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<\|description\|>Alicia Ferdinand \| \| \| \| Alicia Ferdinand Age: 17 Additional Infos: ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ \| Personality: Her personality at first glance might look somewhat like that of your typical snotty upper class British lady at the time. But make no mistake. She wasn't like that at all in her core. She certainly valued those of the lower class, as long as they behaved decently and properly, of course. She acted cold against others, thanks to the combination of her lonely upbringing, making her unable to have a close social relationship without feeling awkward, and her parents bringing her up to be a "prim and proper" lady, which meant not interacting with the servants unless necessary. She never liked social gatherings like tea parties or balls, finding them terribly superficial and a bore. Secretly however, she also hated them because she kept having these young noble men who would ask her for a dance, which just made her terribly uncomfortable and nervous. And when she started rejecting them, they came on to her even harder, giving her the nickname "The Untouchable Rose". She really couldn't handle flirtations well at all, thinking that they were all genuine and not just in good fun. She had a strong sense of social justice, though she would never fancy herself as a grand philanthropist like many others in her circle did. Anonymously, she had an orphanage built with her shillings, as well as a house for the infirm and sick in her father's land. She despised those with a lax moral compass the most. As much as she loved cleanliness, always taking a bath twice every day, even in winter, she despised those with filthy, impure hearts the most. \| \| \| \| \| Interests Reading, especially those romance novels though she would never admit it Painting Taking walks in her garden \| Strengths Stubbornness Determination An analytical mind Does not panic easily \| Fears Loneliness Ennui Living a life she does not want \| History: Alicia was born to the Ferdinand nobility, with her father having an ancestral claim to a knight serving Queen Elizabeth The First. However, her father didn't have a seat in the House of Lords, or participating in politics in the slightest. Instead, he was a landowner and a businessman, owning a trading ship to India and Africa. As you would expect, she wanted nothing in terms of money. However, what she wanted was the attention of her parents, as her mother preferred to spend her time in London being a busy social bee, and her father would frequently go on trips abroad for months on end. She was all alone, only accompanied by her servants whom she wasn't supposed to get close to, being an only child. She met her pixie when she had her daily stroll through her gardens. She told her that she had watched her help all those people without giving a single credit to herself. Perfect to become a Witch. She agreed. She figured it would be a good way to both save more people while staving off her boredom at the same time. Magical Identity \| \| \| \| Witch Name Cestinia ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Upon transformation, her hair became longer and her outfit changed completely into an ornate white leotard with an open white-red skirt, allowing her complete mobility in combat. It reminded her of the ornate costume the performers would wear in a fantastical theatre show, especially those worn by the fairies. It was a little embarrassing at first, but she quickly became accostumed to it. Weapon Antinomy ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ A sword which blade is swirled like a spring/drill. It could extend at will, allowing greater reach for her melee attack. Intended to be used in a swift and accurate manner. \| Pixie Aether ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Like her partner, she is a serious Pixie, always watching over Cestinia, wanting her to grow more and more as a Witch. She would help her in combat, telling her the best approach she should use against the enemy. Outside battle, she almost acts like her surrogate mother/older sister, always reminding her of things she should do and things she must do. Transformed State ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Once Cestinia transformed, she would become the rose adorning her hair. She could give advice freely to her from that position. \| Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Pact with a Holy Beast Allows Cestinia to summon a small Unicorn Dragon to her stead. She would ride it like a horse, allowing her to fly and increase her speed. It could also do its own attacks, firing off beams of light from its mouth. \| \| \| \| \| \| Last seen magical girl anime: Corrector Yui</s> <\|message\|>Clarissa Sherman Mary Anne "It's nice to meet all of you," Mary chimed in. "I've been at this, hm...something over a year, I think. You might've seen me in the papers every now and again." She didn't elaborate further. "Careful there," Umbra spoke up to admonish her. "You really shouldn't draw any more attention to yourself." "Oh, why not," Mary argued in quiet tones. "If we're all working together it won't matter, or they'll find out anyway." Mary wasn't sure if she should get up and curtsy for her hostess or anything, but she was already seated, so that would've been silly anyway. If they needed as many people as possible, whatever this is must be big. But she didn't feel like there was much reason to ask things without hearing what the actual reasons for the coven were. So small talk it was, for the moment. --- Clarissa Clarissa really couldn't put off introducing herself anymore, so she finally spoke up. "I'm Clarissa Sherman. It's a pleasure to meet all of you." She actually was looking forward to working with them, at that. Something one of the other girls had said in her introduction had piqued her interest, so she addressed her directly. "Jackie, was it? Training to be a doctor is an admirable thing. I'm something of an amateur detective myself." Mary Anne quickly hides her shock at the mention of the word "detective." Clarissa wanted to ask about how they managed to track down so many witches. The rest of her questions, at least, would probably be answered in due time. "I'd still like to know how you managed to track down so many of us to send invitations," she said.</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn Marilyn Marilyn smiled at the pixie of the girl called Alicia "I've been doing this since I was a brat, so, uh, around five years at most I think" she said nonchalantly. Marilin most of the time she wasn't actually chasing around Hydes, but she wasn't going to tell them that of course, besides all that running and sneaking around must be of some use. From the ones that had told the group how much time they had been witches, it did seem like there was a huge time difference between her and them, still, Marilyn hoped they wouldn't rely on her too much just because of her experience. Overall it seemed like Ms. Wright had gathered quite the colorful cast, from which Marylin had taken special notice on the amateur detective, she was probably not going to approve of Marilyn's money-making ways, and unlike the cops, there was the possibility that she came to the conclusion a witch was the one committing seemingly impossible crimes. Well, that's one positive thing to come out of the meeting, she would have probably never come across her if she hadn't come to the meeting. On the topic of Ms.Wright herself, she was the textbook definition of a noble lady; kind and polite. Marilyn wasn't even sure if she could have the heart to hurt something, even a Hyde. Yet she did know about witches and had managed to send invitations to everyone here, which considering the size of London and how elusive witches (or at least her) probably were meant it wasn't an easy task. Given that Ms. Edwards was the one explaining the reason for the meeting, she decided to wait until the rest of the witches were done asking, as nothing came to mind.</s>	<\|message\|>Alicia Ferdinand Hmm, this place is certainly quite fancy… Alicia had to admit, begrudgingly, that the place might be just a little nicer than her own. It looked to be recently renovated, as opposed to her mansion which was clearly old and weathered. Sure, she could spend a Crown or two to make it look nicer, but truthfully, she didn't really care. She'd rather save the money, or give it to the orphanage she was funding. She wanted the orphanage to be as nice as possible after all, not like those other sorry, pathetic excuses of orphanages that she had visited, where they would only feed the children grue and give them thin dresses while having a constantly leaking and windy roofs. Keep them humble, they say? Hah! While they themselves wore gaudy jewelry on their necks and fingers, she thought angrily to herself, thinking of the proprietors and benefactors of said places. That was one of the reasons why she wanted to make an orphanage of her own, just so for once, England could have one decent orphanage around. She gave a short and respectful nod to the butlers who opened the door. She always tried to be polite to the servants whenever they performed a service for her. She did the same to the maid that poured her tea for her. "I see…" she replied to Amarantha, who seemed to be reluctant to share more with the group. Understandable, she thought. They were strangers after all. She too felt the same. She didn't know what Ms. Crewe meant when she might have seen her in the papers. Well, she certainly could not remember such a recollection. The detective-looking girl then introduced herself as a detective. Well, big surprise there. She almost huffed, only stopping herself out of politeness. "Since five? Wow, that's really young!" Aether covered her little mouth in surprise, responding to Marilyn. "So you must be really good at it then!" She brightfully smiled at her. When Jacqueline spoke, Alicia couldn't help but furrow her eyebrows. So young. Is a girl that young suitable to be a witch? Or maybe she just looks young? Hmm… Didn't look much like a fighter either. Maybe her magic is more about supporting other witches. That would be a bother. That means her strength would be limited if she were to hunt alone. As she pondered about the young lady, the door behind them suddenly opened, to a group of young children from 4 to 8, followed by whom she immediately assumed to be the hostess of the place, the one that had called them here. She told them to go to their beds, which they seemed to readily reply, though they were accompanied by some butlers in the process. It was clear to Alicia that the younglings were fond of her, calling her Sister or Mother. Well, she certainly has the looks and temperaments for that, she commented. She then proceeded to greet everyone present, including her, noting her owning an orphanage of her own. "Well, I certainly don't keep them in my own mansion," she replied in a somewhat dismissive tone. "Too noisy. I'm already tired enough from my monthly visits to them." Aether giggled. "They love her so much everytime she comes they would be all over her like cute little bees. In fact, once, they were all over her so much they accidentally pulled down the front of her dress! You can just imagine how embarrassed Ali—" SNAP! "—Oww, what was that for?" The fairy rubbed her head once more, little tears coming out from her eyes. "Don't say anything unnecessary," Alicia replied, her cheeks burning red. With a cough, she looked back to the hostess. "I am grateful for your invitation tonight." She bowed on her seat as well. She then introduced herself as Sophia Marjorie Wright, and told the group to ask any questions they might have in their mind. "Alright then," Alicia quickly answered with a stern look on her face. "I'll ask the first question. Why are we here? Why do you need so many witches in one group like this? We can hunt the Hydes individually just fine." She wanted an honest and straight answer. She was not interested in joining an aimless, purposeless group after all. "And then, second question. Are we expected to tell everything about our power immediately?"</s>
<\|description\|>Sophia Marjorie Wright 'Justicia' --- \| \| \| \| Sophia Marjorie Wright Age: 19 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ \| Personality: At first glance Sophia is poised, calm, mature and have her wits about her. She seems to constantly give off an aura of nobility; standing proud and strong. Although on a deeper level, which is not that hard to find once striking a conversation with her, she is also deeply caring and kind. Selfish to a fault, some in her family would say. Among the desperate crowds of Victorian England, it was said by some that Sophia stands as a ray of sunlight; Pure, Innocent yet strong and with purpose. \| \| \| \| \| Interests Reading, Helping those in Need, Painting \| Strengths Kindness, Calmness, Poise, Strength of Character, Determination \| Fears Loneliness, The Dark, Negativity, Failing \| --- History: Sophia is the eldest child of a prominent Londonian family, the Wrights, who's father is a well known and respected Admiral in the British Royal Navy. As such, Sophia grew up rarely seeing her father as he was most often gone on peace missions to keep the Pax Britannica. Her mother, on the other hand, was always present. She always had been sickly and weak from her youngest years, which was why the couple had rejoiced in noticing that Sophia didn't inherit this condition. Instead, she was a strong child and a strong personality that didn't shy away from saying what she thought and doing what she wanted. Sophia grew up under her mother's tutelage, learning the virtues of kindness and patience, but also inherited her father's strength of character and will to act. Her youngest years were happy and fulfilling - but her mother died suddenly after giving birth to a second child, a younger brother. Ever the strong one, Sophia did not let the death of her cherished mother change her. If anything, it strengthened the lessons she was taught, as a way to respect her memory. Sophia's father was still rarely there, even less so the first few months and years after the death of his wish. Sophia took on the role of leader of the family's house and tried to raise her little brother, although this task fell mostly on servants and caretakers because she was busy and judged too young. She only got busier after meeting her Pixie companion only a few months after the tragedy. While taking care of her mother's garden, a creature of seemingly pure light approached her and gave her an opportunity; to give her the means to proactively use her willingness to act and help by giving her the powers to make a difference. It did not take much explanations for Sophia to believe and accept the Pixie's proposition. Ever since, Sophia fulfilled her new duties as Witch superbly and without fail. \| \| \| \| Witch Name Justicia ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Upon transformation, Justicia's hair changes to an almost pure white with only one strand of golden hair, representing Sol - on top of also becoming very long, following her every movements like a beautiful strand of silk would a veil dancer. Her regalia is mostly blue with lots of golden decorations which changes colours depending on the magics Justicia uses. Weapon ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Justicia's weapon is a blade with the shape of a musical note. The center of it is rounded and offers some protection, behind which is the handle. The seemingly decorative golden engravings along the sword changes colours depending on how Justicia uses her magic. \| Pixie Sol ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Just like the Witch she chose to enhance, Sol is poised and strong willed. Unlike Sophia however, Sol has more of a cold calculating personality that favours results over actions taken to get them. The destruction of Pixie's antithesis, Hydes, are Sol's main and most important goal. Transformed State ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Once transformed, Sol most often takes the form of a golden hair brooch in order to be under the sun as often as possible. \| Magical Identity Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Sun's Dance Justicia's magic seems complicated, but is actually very straightforward. It enhances the Witch in short but potent burst of magics that gravitates around movements, but isn't limited to. The main form the magic takes are the leg armours Justicia gains as she takes her magical form. These allow the user to skate upon any surfaces as if it was ice, allowing for great speed, grace and movement. On top of this, The Witch can tap into her magic to gain short enhancements such as momentum in a straight line, high jumps both horizontally or vertically, skates on vertical surfaces such as walls and others. The magic has no offensive options apart from the sword itself, which can cut through any and all Hydes encountered thus far. As a result of this, Sol only chooses strong willed individuals that are highly disciplined. \| \| \| \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn Marilyn "Ah!, no I meant it as in I've been doing this for five years, not since I was five years old" Marilyn explained herself to Alicia. She wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic but she didn't want to take any chances. She wasn't even good enough to run without tripping at least once, she would surely have become food for a hyde if she was picked that early. With that out of the way, she listened attentively to Ms.Edwards, Pixies exchanging information was something new to her, but considering how Kephri usually was Marylin probably figured that she wasn't told because she never bothered to ask, much to her annoyance. So the gist of their task was going to be an extermination job, good. Marylin was sure she could take on a mature hyde by herself, and with the others help the job surely wouldn't be too difficult. She briefly thought for a moment about asking for any kind of compensation, but for once she decided to save it for later. Once the mission was over she would have proved herself to be useful and that could be a bargaining chip. "I can probably help up with tracking too" she began "I don't know what are the mechanics behind it but thanks to Kephri I can emulate the abilities of insects. Aside from that I could patrol and see if there's anything strange around the city."</s> <\|message\|>Veronica Edwards "The Portraitist" --- Veronica Edwards ~ The Portraitist --- Veronica listened intently as the others explained their abilities, and how said magic could aid them with the upcoming mission. "A range of skills such as yours," she addressed the girls who'd replied, "sounds like it could make our tasks much more manageable. Of course, we'll still need to be cautious, and be sure to work together to the best of our ability." She glanced from Amarantha to Marilyn, that trace of a smile returning. "Speaking of teamwork, hunts won't be the only reason for our gatherings. If there are aspects of your magic you have yet to figure out, this way we can help each other train and learn." Claria flitted around the room, grinning down at the newly assembled coven. "That's the attitude! And I can't wait to see what you're all capable of!" In contrast, Veronica's expression became neutral once again. "That," she said, eyes flicking to the slowly dimming view through the window then back, "is something we'll be seeing very soon." It wasn't long before dusk crept over London, people heading home for the day as, unknown to them, a new kind of activity stirred. It wasn't just that in the rowdy pubs and inns Veronica passed by, either. The reports she'd heard could easily be written off as the ramblings of the drunk, but she knew better. Glimpses of ghostly figures. Bouts of aggression that went beyond drunken brawls. Attacks by unseen assailants. Disappearances. This was, after all, the perfect place for Hydes to prey on the vulnerable. "Excess. Paranoia. Anger. Despair," she mused, peering through the dingy surroundings. The stench of alcohol and filth didn't faze her, nor did the air of seediness. She'd long since cast off all self-consciousness while doing her duty - after all, in her transformed state, she'd slip by the average person unnoticed. "The kinds of emotions and impulses that feed and breed Hydes, all in plentiful supply in places like these." Places that, given their experience, many of the witches here would be used to. Then again, sometimes there was no telling where a Hyde would lurk. "Too bad we're ready for them!" Claria rose into the fetid air, casting a glimmer of light through the murk. "And the more there are, the easier they'll be to spot!" With a grim nod, Veronica continued along her way. Numbers, after all, weren't just on the enemy's side. --- Lucilla Crawford ~ Ignis Fatuus --- A purple glow bathed the brickwork as Lucilla raised her candle, looking down the alley with a wry smile. It was ironic, how even after Wisp and Sophia had allowed her to turn her life around, she still belonged in the shadows of London. Now, though, it was to calm the chaos instead of cause it. If the team worked together as well as Veronica and her pixie seemed to think they would, at least. "Ready? That we are," she agreed, snickering. "Let's remind those Hydes it's those people's party, not theirs." She gestured to an inn, from which she could hear off-key singing. As she trailed along, she hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Even with a decent level of faith in her combat ability, teamwork was something she still had to ease into once more. Not that she was the only one who felt that way, judging by some of the other girls' mannerisms. Besides, if things were as bad as Veronica said, they didn't have a choice. Not if she and the others were to stop a repeat of that incident. Her fingers clenched around the candle holder as memories flashed through her mind. Blood, lifeless forms, a barely human figure hunching over them. That figure, still bearing traits of her friend, writhing in flames. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes as if to block out the scenes. No. It wouldn't happen again, not tonight. Putting on that smile again, she turned her attention from Clarissa, to Amarantha, to Lilith, then to Marilyn. She knew this network of streets like a home, but this situation called for a precise search. "Looks like a good time to put those tracking skills of yours to use."</s>	<\|message\|>Sophia Marjorie Wright Unfortunately, Veronica was all too right about their surroundings. Despair was all around, and even those Witches with special tracking powers would not have needed them to detect this. Hell, even a non-witch would feel it in their bones. Such as the state of things, in this part of town at least. In the dim light provided by the street lamps, people could be seen wandering towards their poisons of choice - or away from them, desperately so. --- --- The group had been walking for a little while now, after having left Sophia's residence. They had managed to stay together so far, despite some of them seemingly still unsure about this whole covent thing. Sophia could only hope to reassure them with time. She was one of those who chose to wear the guise of her Witch form for their 'outing'. As this self, she seemed a lot more focused, serious and strong than as her regular cheerful, warm and motherly self. "This part of town used to be so nice..." Sophia could't help but to think out loud. They were in a part of time that used to mostly house markets as well as one large park. It used to be lively, with lots of people shopping during the day, and lots of customers staying in Inns or walking around later at night. Now, due to influx of people and lacks of good jobs, it was mostly a slum. Storages became houses for the numerous poor families, the market was now empty, mostly, and the park was residence to many without a roof over their head, including orphans. They were close to the edge of the City, explaining the large yet unused land for the park and vast market areas now empty. Or not entirely - it didn't take long for them to notice a few Hydes walking around. One of them was closely stalking what looked and sounded like a drunk man aimlessly walking around. The Hyde, this one a shadowy tall and thin figure with piercing red eyes and no mouth, was so close behind the man it looked like it was part of it's body. Clearly, it was feeding off of him...until the man fell down, exhausted and asleep. Surprisingly, it then turned around and began walking away. It was not the only one of it's kind, and they all seemed to do the same thing. Feeding off of nearby targets, but unusually walking away instead of sticking to one target until it's demise or until they were strong enough to go back to their point of origin. Many a Hyde could be seen walking away in various directions; some in the park, some towards the docks, others towards a house district, some more towards a large area where it was mostly storage buildings for companies and, lastly, another group heading towards the center of London. "Strange." Sophia remarked. She and Veronica knew they were going to be numerous tonight, but did not expect such a peculiar behaviour. Veronica noted the Hydes diverging like predators that had caught the scent of new prey. "Well that's unusual," she commented, although her face and tone suggested nothing truly surprised her any more. Despite her ever-cool demeanour, she spun to face the others. "It seems they're drawn to something," she concluded. Theories ran through her mind, not that she could fully launch into them. Time, after all, was of the essence. "We have to make sure they don't reach whatever - or whoever - they're looking for. I know we planned to work together, but if we split into smaller teams, we'll be able to stop them all at once." Sophia did not waste time agreeing with her covent sister. She did not like the idea of splitting up, but it really did seem there was no choice. Besides, most Witches here were not entirely new. "I believe Veronica is right. Furthermore, it seems we have five locations to head towards to...and unless I am mistaken, we are the exact correct number for it. Lilith and Jacqueline could investigate the Park, Clarissa and Marilyn could investigate the docks, Lucilla and Mary-Anne, would you head to the housing district? Veronica and Amarantha, take the warehouses. Finally, it would leave Lady Ferdinand and myself to head towards the center of town." she said, without missing a beat. "We should not waste any time. I fear for what those Hydes might be looking for, or who they might hurt."</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality Boisterous and foolhardy, Eldrid embodies the wild spirit of the northern marches from which she originates. The girl had always been tempestuous, acting upon whims and heated emotions with a reckless lack of forethought, and the introduction of dragon's blood to her body has done little in the way of taming her stormy temperament. Equal parts passionate and stubborn, she has the tendency to be obstinate over matters trivial or dire, believing wholly in her own correctness over evidence overwhelming. Such a disposition stems from a strong sense of pride she holds, one that is easily offended. While she is volatile and quick-tempered, she is also equally fast to forgive, often opting to settle disagreements and insults with a bout of physical confrontation. Only when she is denied such a conclusion, or made the victim of a truly heinous crime, does she hold a grudge. Such grudges, hard-won as a result of her relatively carefree nature, are long standing and difficult to overcome. Owing to her devil-may-care approach to life, Eldrid does not take well to authority. She takes great joy in her independence, and the ability to exercise her wanderlust that accompanies it. Being forced into a regimented system in which she must go to her betters before acting flies directly in the face of her impulsive, freedom loving nature. She works best when left to her own devices, and believes all people truly crave to live as she does. Only when she has garnered a true respect for someone—either by strength of arms or character—does she acquiesce to orders and requests without complaint. Eldrid is also quite covetous, primarily of worldly wealth. She never bedecks herself with finery, but she will voraciously horde valuable assets if given the ability, leading to some... contentious relations with the law. Some might summarize it a result of her draconic nature. Eldrid herself is not so introspective. Appearance Eldrid, while not a traditional beauty, takes great pride in her appearance. She stands taller than most women that she knows—just a few inches shy of six feet tall—and possesses a hard, athletic frame to accompany it. Her apricot skin is as rough as her nature, covered here and there by ridges of scar tissue earned from various scraps and battles long past, the most prominent of which stretches from cheek to forehead across her left eye. Wild, wavy red locks of hair cascade every which way from her head, framing the sharp features of her face in an inferno as fiery as her magic. Her eyes are a rich teal in color, and typically hold either an amused mirth, or headstrong glint. On matters of wardrobe, she is not particularly picky. Simple tunics and utilitarian trousers suit her purposes, and she tends to favor tough leather boots over lesser footwear that wouldn't hold up to the north's conditions. She does have a tendency to dress lightly, specifically swearing off sleeved garments, as their constrictive nature is an affront to her physique. The origin of her magic ensures she does not suffer for this decision. "Fucked up how a goblet is a cup and not a little goblin." \| N a m e: \| Eldrid Isfjellbarn \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Fire Autist \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 18 \| R a n k: \| C½ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Yesterday \| Guild Seal Location: \| Somewhere you don't wanna see, son. \| History: \| Eldrid was born the youngest daughter of a woodsman and his homemaker wife, in the village of Stenhus. Built in the border-marches of Fiore, where the land of man and those of the ancients began to blend, the village was home to a hardy folk, many of whom had set off for lives of adventure and fortune rather than toil in the frigid cold of the far north. Eldrid was one such individual, who from the time she was old enough to listen to stories at the lap of her grandparents, wished to see the world outside their humble hamlet. But life so close to the mystical was dangerous, and she was but a small girl. As such she spent most of her life behind the safe palisade walls of her hometown. But she could only remain a small girl for so long. As she grew so too did her wanderlust, and with it, her resentment towards the restrictions imposed upon her. Her father had staunchly forbid her from wandering off to become another foolhardy casualty for some horrid abomination, like her brother before her had done. She balked under this, yearning to see what all the world had to offer outside of snowy peaks and fir trees. When a great fire befell the woodlands outside the village, talk came to the townsfolk that a monster had taken refuge in the mountains, leaving carnage and destruction in its wake. She was forbidden to leave even on the occasional errand, for fear she would do something as foolish as attempt to track the beast. It went without saying that the moment she was capable, she did exactly that. Making off into the night while her family slept, the young rebel disappeared into the hills with a warm cloak and all the determination. She had thirsted all her life to be as the heroes in her elder's tales, and now she had her chance! It was too good for her to pass up, and so she spent the dark hours clamoring up rocky terrain until it became slopes, and slopes until they became craggy goat paths. The gossip said the beast had taken roost in the caverns atop the great stony monoliths that she had grown beneath the shadows of, and she meant to see it with her own eyes. By the time the sun had risen, she had found the trail of carnage the monster had churned up, and steeled herself as she approached its den, a cavern system carved by spring streams into the interior of the mountain. What she found both shocked and amazed her. The beast truly was great, a dragon of all things, like the ones from the stories. It was truly worthy of her wonder... but the glory of the monster was not what shocked her. Massive and majestic as it may have once been, the great reptilian creature had been laid low, injured beyond a measure even dragonkind had hope to survive. What could have done such a thing to such a powerful being was beyond the mind of a simple, stupid girl who had climbed a mountain for the privilege of witnessing it. She had more pressing concerns to attend to, for the dragon remained just lucid enough in its mortally wounded state to perceive her presence. Using what little strength it had left, the great magical beast bellowed, and in an instant she disappeared with a snap into its massive maw. It rightly should have been her end, there and then, killed for her rebuke of authority and logic. But she was spared. While her father had always told her that her defiant nature would be her end, it was just that which allowed Eldrid to live on, rather than succumb to despair and perish in the frozen cold. With her teeth, she ripped into its flesh, and it was this flesh that would sustain her, the furnace like warmth that permeated its body even in death allowing her to stave off frozen night after frozen night. She supped on its insides and drank of its blood. Gruesome as it was, it gave her strength, and filled her with vigor. It must have been a week or more before she managed to eat her way out of the dragon's corpse, emerging from her viscera cocoon a changed girl. The trip back home from there was of little consequence compared to the ordeal within the cave, and when she was met not with opened arms, but by her father's enraged lecturing, she had made up her mind; her home would be the world now, just as she had always desired. If she could survive a dragon, what more could there be to stop her? She had only been sixteen years old then. Two years prior to her arrival at White Harbor, having spent them journeying around the north of Fiore, honing her body, hardening her will, and perhaps most importantly, learning to utilize the strange gifts that had accompanied her consumption of that dragon so long ago. Upon hearing that the town played host to its very own Mage's Guild, she decided to investigate for her own benefit. The rest, as they say, is history. \| Magic: \| Fire Dragon Slayer Magic Fire Dragon Slayer Magic is a form of Dragon Slayer Magic that allows its user to generate and manipulate the element in question. Like other forms of Dragon Slayer magic, it also imbues the user with an immunity to their element's detrimental effects, bestows them with enhanced senses, and allows them to consume their element to restore their magical energy. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| + Overwhelming Determination To call Eldrid stubborn is an understatement, and she possesses a vast depth of willpower to call upon when she—or an ideal she holds dear—is challenged. One is more likely to break her body before then can break her spirit, which considering the former's toughness, is quite a feat. This trait is especially valuable to one who possesses Fire Dragon Slayer magic, as her passionate refusal to surrender only causes her flames to burn all the hotter. + Unusually Durable More of an innate quality than anything born from training, Eldrid's body is surprisingly sturdy. She is difficult to injure, withstanding powerful blows and debilitating conditions that might quickly fell lesser combatants without succumbing. Such a trait might have been the very reason for her acquisition of magic in the first place; the inside of a dragon tends to be quite inhospitable. - Internalized Misogyny Eldrid has no weakness, because weaknesses are for women. \| Miscs : \| my father was a gamer... and a fiend.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia couldn't stop herself from letting out a polite laugh at Arc's reasoning. It wasn't going to be the first or last time they misinterpreted one another, she supposed. But it was all in good fun! And more importantly, no harm done. The duo turned into a trio and then a group, and soon it was herself, Arc, Lee, and Karna all accompanied by the reporter as they left the guild. Nia tugged at the sleeve of her coat as she listened to Arc talk about Mrs. Whitecliff with a small frown on her face. A missing child was enough to worry any decent person, she couldn't possibly imagine the anguish the poor mother was going through at the moment. That said, she was pulled out of her thoughts as Claire spoke. Shoot, she was hoping to avoid an interview by focusing on the mission. At the mention of Serena, however, she did raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Serena could be intimidating sometimes, but she was harmless. Well, mostly harmless. "Ah, no, your assumption is correct," Nia cleared her throat, putting on a polite smile. "I came here from Crocus some time ago and heard about the guild through some very spirited banter in a tavern. Well, not so much spirited as instead it was more of a heated debate on mages and the effect on the town..." She uttered the last part, although she quickly shook her head and perked up. "Aiden was kind enough to accept me, and for that I am grateful. Getting to be in a guild is more fun than I imagined." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Yes, it certainly did sound like they had a plan. Ria's problem wasn't just coming up with a plan, it was sticking to it. If they had a communication lacrima so Cade could keep watch from the shore and tell Will and maybe she'd hear it one of the times she surfaced. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be staying under the entire time, but she certainly wasn't going to be able to hold onto a communication lacrima and deal with Bessie. The blast of frigid air that proceeded their guildmaster's grand entrance hit like a punch in the chest. She could stand outside without her spell cast for a decent amount of time in what she was wearing before she'd really feel the chill, but that was the natural environment. The Ice-Maker magic Aiden used put White Harbor's frigid gusts to shame. A shiver ran down her spine, but a smile spread on Ria's face all the same watching the display of his maker-magic. "Okay, let's go," she laughed as Serena broke the news to Aiden - that the interview was off. They had more important things to do than delay starting their job. "As you said before, the sooner we start - the sooner we might be able to finish and get something to eat." Ria didn't mind the questioning - and sometimes criticizing - glances she got walking down to the docks. She was used to the judgemental looks when she headed out for a swim. The cold didn't bother her until the spell wore off, and generally by then she was already on her way back to the guildhall. That's what she figured would happen again this time. She never really timed how long it took for her spell to wear off, but she figured they had plenty of time, especially since she was going to be out in her element. "So, Cade, you're staying on the docks, right? I'll be counting on you to help try to keep an eye on how things are going. I know the split between the bay and deeper waters below water, but I won't be able to tell how far I'm getting her out if we stay close to the surface. Will, if you're coming out with me, did you already secure a boat?" She looked at him. "Or were you planning on swimming too?"</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card It was out of the frying pan and into the fire or so it seemed. There wasn't but a moment of reprieve for Kvasir nor his comrades when the wagon was once again launched ass if it were made of paper mache. Before the wagon was launched and he had been laughing at the talking dog a shiver passed through him as the hairs on his neck stood on end. It wasn't the swamp causing the problems this time, it was something else or rather someone else. His instincts reacted faster than his mind like always. Using the momentum in which the wagon was tumbling, Kvasir propelled himself off the wagon and towards the direction of the beast instead of backing away. Klaus had a similar plan but instead sent his ghoulish ships to bombard the strange figure. Hopefully the cannon fire and sheer size of the ship would cloak Kvasir's body as he rocketed towards the fiend. It was all for not however since Klaus' attack seemed sufficient enough to put down the creature. Kvasir never trusted one attack to fully euthanize an enemy. To ensure he was dead, Kvasir landed viciously onto the ground beside the creature before raising his foot to bring it down aiming to curb stomp the creatures head.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card "oh no what happened to the creature is it dead"</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Please believe in me, as I will protect you to the end. --- --- Personality Poised, graceful, and with one hell of a resting bitch face, at first Nia comes off as a quiet girl. So long as she keeps her mouth closed, she can be mistaken for a cold if somewhat distant person. The truth is the complete opposite; her cheerful and bubbly way of thinking often dominating everything she says the second she starts talking. She has no issues offering her opinion on a matter, and is generally open minded, making her easy to talk to and she can talk to just about anyone. She has a rather positive deposition, an optimistic view on nearly everything, and likes to look for the silver linings in even the worst situations. She will never let you down, even the idea of disappointing someone makes her always put in her total effort. As a result she is quick to help out those in need. Still, she puts a lot of pressure on herself even if she is told to take it easy. Polite and usually keeping a calm head, she comes off as more of a caretaker than a wizard. Despite her warm and gentle nature, however, she seems to avoid opening up to people even though she likes it when people confide in her. Her tendency to keep people at a distance is somewhat contradictory, often confusing people, and she has a lot of trouble expressing her emotions properly. Should she be crossed, she keeps her gentle demeanor, though becomes exceedingly passive aggressive. Her observational skills are astute and she weaponizes it when she's angry or annoyed, taking a delight in honing in on people's weaknesses, addressing them with a misleading smile. Appearance Standing at a height of 5"8', Nia is a lovely girl with fair skin and long, pink hair. Her big, baby blue eyes are her most noticeable feature, her heart shaped face giving her a rather innocent look. She has a fairly slim body type with a few curves, a modest bust and hips, and willowy legs. She tends to move gracefully and often has a gentle expression. Her clothing leans towards elegant, preferring clothing that flows with her. "Let's all do our best, okay?" \| N a m e: \| Ourania Clavis \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Happily insists on being called Nia. \| G e n d e r: \| ♀ \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Happily active for almost four months! \| Guild Seal Location: \| Upper right thigh \| History: \| Born to Governor Uranis and his wife Raine, Ourania was raised in a sheltered environment. Aside from questionable parenting choices, there wasn't much excitement in her life until she finally received her mother's blessing to start making contracts with Celestial Spirits. She naively assumed that she would get to spend the better part of her life studying the spirits and practicing magic, only to be given a rude wakeup call in the form of an arranged marriage. The fire of rebellion was sparked afterwards, and with keys and a few belongings in hand, Nia left her home in search of adventure. It was easier said than done, with her mother often using her father's influence to send out a bill to multiple guilds to return her. It happened about three times until Nia finally wised up to it, devising up a better-thought out plan of escape. To ensure her success, she played along while doing a little research on where to go. She decided she would get as far away as she could, out of any of her family's reach, and settled on White Harbor as her destination. There was a minor hitch in her plan, but she delayed it until the last possible minute, fleeing the estate and jumping on a ship. After arriving, she realized just how harsh the area was and made her first priority finding some sort of employment. While at the tavern, she overheard a pair complaining about the current guild. As far as she was aware, she hadn't heard of any guild in the area, and realized it was the perfect place to work and hide among the other wizards. She arrived at the guild hall still wearing her wedding dress, asking to be let in. \| Magic: \| { Celestial Spirit Magic } Nia is a Celestial Wizard whose magic comes in the form of using Celestial Spirit Gate Keys. Celestial Spirit Gate Keys are magical keys that can be used to summon Celestial Spirits, powerful beings from another dimension. Her specialization is utilizing the Star Dress spell, a Celestial Spirit Magic Spell in which the user incorporates the power of a Celestial Spirit into their body. The power manifests itself in the form of a wardrobe change in the form of an outfit centered around the Spirit in question's own wardrobe. By adopting the powers and appearance of the Spirit they choose, the user also adopts a portion of their powers, being able to make use of their magic. [ Gate of the Water Bearer: Aquarius ] ♒︎ Summons the water bearer, Aquarius. The spirit's temperament and outright refusal to follow orders often results in the two bickering whenever she is summoned. She has mastered the Star Dress Form associated, gaining the powers of the celestial spirit. Aquarius' domain is Water Magic, granting her the ability to manipulate the element. [ Gate of the Maiden: Virgo ] ♍︎ Summons the maiden, Virgo. A stiff spirit, despite obeying any orders to a tee, she often insists on being punished immediately afterwards, much to Nia's dismay and discomfort. She has mastered the Star Dress Form associated, gaining the powers of the celestial spirit. Virgo's doman is Earth Magic, granting her the ability to manipulate the element. [ Gate of the Charioteer: Auriga ] Summons a chariot pulled by a horse named Auriga. [ Gate of the Shield : Scutum ] Summons a grand shield whose size can increase depending on the user's power. [ Gate of the Mirror: Meissa ] Summons a a celestial being named Meissa that has a pair of mirrors that enable communication between them. [ Gate of the Glass: Telescopium ] Summons a spyglass used to see over far distances. [ Gate of the Lyre: Lyra ] Summons a lyre player whose voice and music are considered otherworldly. [ Gate of the Furnace: Fornax] Summons a small furnace that emits warmth around the area. Leaves everyone feeling nice and toasty. [ Gate of Canis Minor: Nikola] Summons a small dog. Friendly and cute, he makes for a good companion. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| * High magic stamina * High physical prowess and durability when using Star Dress * Knowledgeable on magic * Reliant on Star Dress for physical prowess * Reliant on keys for magic * Low physical strength \| Miscs : \| She occasionally lets slip details about her past, but outright refuses to talk about it even when caught. Contrary to the image above, her usual outfit is more weather appropriate. The Clavis family was once hailed as a pioneer in magical item production, though it has been a long time since they had contributed to any recent discoveries. They have left their mark on Celestial Key creations, a majority of Bronze and Silver key designs credited to them. She apparently has a contract with another Celestial Spirit, but left the key behind when she left her home.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Seeing the beast rise out of the water trying to get something, Ria smirked a little. This is going to be fun. Bessie was about the same size as Cormenila. She loved chances to spar with him. This was just going to be less fighting, and more tag. "Just like a game of tag," she muttered to herself with a nod. Fun. Her attention turned back to Will when he offered her the magical ring. Her eyes lit up, smirk turning an excited grin. "Oh, wow! This is so cool!" She took it and slid it onto the pinkie of her offhand. If she did need to throw a punch while dealing with Bessie, she didn't want to make it hurt more from the ring, or break the ring in the process. That would kind of ruin the point. She held up her hand to both watch it adjust to size and admire it. "So awesome." She looked over at Cade when he joked about needing one. She laughed. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on us." The smile left her face as she realized he was helping one of the barrier mages off the boat. She jogged over to help the mage off his boat. Surely that was why Cade was here too. "Hey, Kaito. Bessie isn't leaving as fast as I was told she would, huh? We're going to get her on her way." She offered the mage a smile. "You shouldn't have to go back out again to deal with her tidal waves. So rest up and relax, 'kay?" She waved as she walked toward the far end of the dock. "Right, guys, are you ready? Time to dive right in, right?" She laughed at her own pun.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster White Harbor --- --- "W-wha. . ." The young man looked between Cade and Vectis with glazed eyes, barely able to focus on their words before Ria piped up. Kaito looked at the small girl with a slow turn of the head, a hand holding up his head as he stumbled his way into a seating position. "R. . . Ria? I'm sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now. Been. . . holding up the barrier. . . four hours. . . so . . . tired." With a groan, the poor mage fell backward, sprawling out along the dock with his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He was still alive but obviously pushed well past his limits in keeping the rogue waves conjured by the massive sea creature from wrecking the town. Luckily, that meant that there was nothing stopping the group from nabbing the small boat for themselves. Rose The North(east)ern Grove --- --- Claire The reporter listened to all of the group's responses with keen interest, writing down notes on her lacrima slate. She offered a small apologetic nod to Karna for her assumption that she wasn't a native, feeling more than a little embarrassed for the misstep. At Lee's insistence on taking a child with them, however, she couldn't help but furrow her brow. "Isn't this a quest revolving around a missing child? I'm not on expert on these things, but that seems a hair irresponsible of you to do as her caretaker." Tapping her stylus against her tablet, she wrote down a few more notes with a frown before tucking it away to approach the symbol that Arc had pointed out. With a slight incantation, she conjured a magical seal in her palm to run over the symbol. Her eyes lit up for a moment, rapidly shifting images fluttering across her iris before she let them fall shut with a shudder. Taking a step away, she brought a finger to her chin, tapping at it in deep thought as she considered the marking. "In any case, this symbol you pointed out is. . . old. Really, really old. My Archive's database can barely pull up anything about them. If i can hazard a. . . rough translation, I'd say that they all seem to imply no small amount of danger to anyone passing this threshold." She slipped a none to conspicuous glance towards Lee as she said this, eyebrow raised but choosing to continue talking to the group as a whole rather than making further comment. "I can't really read anything else besides that, but if we're going to split up at all, I'm probably going to stuck with you, Arc. Call it a hunch." @Grey@KiwiTime@Inkarnate</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was almost no sign left of the monster that attacked them. Kvasir grew impatient and angry when he had nothing to crush under the weight of his foot. His senses were still heightened as he didn't trust this was all that was left of the beast who challenged him for authority. The words in the background were inaudible to him but not the sound of tendrils smacking the marsh runner's skull into the ground. Kvasir almost snarled in reaction until his vision was interrupted and forced to cut to underneath him. Blobs similar to that of the creature formed underneath them sprouting tendrils of their own. Had he simply stayed there the tendrils would sure enough pull him into the caustic center. In one swift action his chest puffed out and the veins from his body expanded through the skin. A deep howl left his lungs before blood shot out from his body in what seemed to be a concession of blades. Tendrils were cut and sliced like pieces of squid. He had to put some distance between him and the blobs and closer to the monster at the center of this. Propelling himself off the goo monster he touched solid earth once more and took off behind it and the marsh runner. Whatever the dog and the red headed woman chose to do was up to them.</s> <\|message\|>Karna Belladawn --- "Well, what information are we missing, then?" Karna wrapped her arms around her back, clutching them in an almost royal manner. The silver-haired noble wasn't quite sure what the group wasn't being told. It may have been paranoid but the young woman had an inkling that they were going in with half of the information they needed. Going in blind seemed like a poor choice. But the thing about jobs like this were that sometimes they were forced to do such things. Upon hearing they would split up Karna tapped one of her fingers, "If we are splitting up. I will go with Nia."</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Nia shuddered slightly as they arrived, looking around a little nervously. Arcturus was right, something about this place was weird. She felt like something was going to jump out at them at any second, making it difficult for her to pay attention to the conversation. Keeping in a whimper of fear, she lightly smacked her face to snap herself out of it. She was a wizard for crying out loud! She had her keys, her magic...everything was going to be okay. No need to get scared. Right? Tuning back into the conversation, Nia did look around at the mention of lights. Oh this place was definitely haunted, wasn't it?! Quietly taking in a deep breath, she rubbed her arms as she listened. Unfortunately, runes weren't her specialty, and she couldn't say she was a huge fan of splitting up--this was like a horror story waiting to happen! That said, however, they were here to find the lost child, and he could be by himself and in need of help. So she nodded in agreement at Karna's statement, uncrossing her arms as she took a hold of her keys. "Okay, if we're splitting up, then..." She took a few steps back as she unhooked a silver key. Brandishing it, she channeled her magic into the key. "I call upon thee! Open, Gate of the Mirror: Meissa!" With a flash of light, a small, pixie-like creature appeared, its wings fluttering as she formed a circle. Once the circle completed, it split into two and a pair of mirrors formed, floating into Nia's hands. "We can use this to communicate," Nia suggested, offering the other mirror. "You know...just in case." She let out a nervous laugh. </s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn The trip to Bludmach had been about as much of a pain in the ass as signing up for the damned guild had been; a comparison that meant something, considering the location of the guild's seal she had chosen once the paperwork was done. She had only been with them for a day before signing up for this job, and before she knew it she was here, in the back of a wagon, in some godforsaken swamp, with two weirdos she barely knew, and a mosquito-like irritant up front. Sprawling across the wagon's floor with her arms crossed behind her head for comfort, the young mage cast a turquoise eye towards Malon as he prattled on about the woes of his situation. The promise of good pay might've been enough to sway her into volunteering to take up this assignment, but the Guild master hadn't said anything about listening to some swamp-rat's bellyaching. Lifting up one of her legs, the fiery lass drove the heel of her boot into front side of their vehicle not once, but twice. Two good, solid kicks right beneath the driver's seat to remind him he wasn't making the trip by his lonesome. "We didn't hire you to whinge about your poor decisions along the way, we hired you to get us to Bludmach. So why don't you make yourself useful and tell us how close we are?" She remarked irately, hoisting herself up onto her elbows so she could lean forward and peak up at their surroundings.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- A Light in the Dark ✰✰✰ @Grey@KiwiTime --- --- --- --- Staring at the job board intently, Nia's eyes roamed the few jobs that lingered. The most interesting job had been snatched up right away, and the group had long departed. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, but so long as they stuck together and followed Klaus' lead, things would likely be alright. Her worry did fuel her indecision somewhat, part of her wishing she had some way of knowing how things went, another part of her subtly trying to figure out how much she still needed to make rent this month. She could probably skirt by the month with a small amount just under budget, but there were a few things she wanted to get for her little home that required more jewels than usual. At least, that was what she told herself; her apartment was minimalist at the moment, and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need more chairs for the seating area or a nice painting to hang on the empty wall, but she couldn't help herself. After letting out a wistful sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and randomly snatched a page off the board. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the lucky job--one Thoronia Whitecliff was requesting aid in finding her missing son. Oh, no, this was terrible and sad and--goodness, she felt herself tearing up already. There weren't very many details on the bill, instead asking for wizards to help her out. She frowned at the page, wondering what could have happened. --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card The foul stench was getting to the sea dog. To a normal person, the stench of rot and bog water could be tolerated or ignored. His large physique could only recoil into itself to avoid the foul air. Seeing his imposing figure curled up and his large, clawed hands holding a much too small, soaked in spirits handkerchief to his nose was a sight to behold. Klaus was having an absolutely miserable time in the swamp on the outskirts of Bludmach. Why did he even come to a place so far away from the sea? The answer was responsibility. Having someone who—quite literally—joined the guild the previous day take an urgent, high-difficulty mission was a big red flag. Doing such a thing either meant you were sandbagging for most of your life or were an overconfident shmuck. The latter was always more likely. Having one of these types was bad enough, but two of them were bold enough to run headfirst into that four star quest wall. It wasn't like those elusive jobs undertaken by the greatest mages, though. Unless there was something really wrong, there was really nothing to stop people from overextending. Common sense, maybe, but nothing else. With Eldrid raging against the runner, the sickened Klaus piped up to rebuke her. "Oi, don't make trouble. Yer part of a guild now. Bein' a knob fucks it up for the rest o'us." He didn't really acknowledge the fact that his passive bonus to a party's intimidation played a pretty major part in getting the poor marsh runner to cart them in the first place.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Arcturus Arcturus looked around for the source of the whistling, and spotted Nia in the distance, doing something odd with her hand. After a moment's thought, the young man finally realized what Nia's actions meant. He had seen those repetitive arm curls before. He began posing.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- It looked like Claire wanted to come along. Nia supposed there wasn't really a good reason to say no to that, but she was still a little antsy at the thought. Well, if she came along, then no need for an interview! Or that was her assumption, anyway, but it was too late to back down now, especially when Lee joined the conversation. Oh well, what was the worst that could happen? At Lee's comment, she politely waved him off. He wasn't giving himself or Arc enough credit. Sure, Arc's entrance was highly energetic, but it was better than complete apathy, right? "Oh, he's alright, he's just enthusiastic, that's all," Nia assured Lee. She noticed that Arcturus had yet to join them, although when she looked over at where he was last, she noticed he wasn't walking over. What was he doing? Her jaw dropped as she looked back at Claire and Lee, letting out a quiet laugh. "U-Um, let's convene with Arc, I'm sure he...he has some information we could use..." She said between laughs, covering her mouth as she tried to stop. She did fully pause, however, as she realized she failed to properly introduce herself. "Oh, I'm Nia. It's very nice to meet you, Miss Hartsfield." Deciding to approach Arc directly, she clasped her hands behind her back. "Are you alright, there?" She asked. "I tried to wave you over." --- --- @Grey@Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster Serena --- --- "Give the kid a break, grumpy." Serena rolled her eyes as Caderyn glared down Arc as if he wanted to vaporize him with the strength of his gaze along. "I don't get what you have against the kid. He's a bit loud, sure, but harmless for the most part. . . and makes for good eye candy for a few of the village girls if the rumor mill is anything to go by. Makes good business when they come and try to talk to the dolt." With that said, the red-haired woman looked over to see that Claire was still talking with Nia, but didn't seem to be taking down any notes like you'd expect an interviewer to do. Taking a sip from one of the glasses in front of her, Serena wondered what the spectacled reported had in mind but decided to leave her to it. She had done her part in setting everything up and telling Aiden that the girl was here, so everything else was up to him. "Before Ria comes and collects you both, either of you wants this drink? Seems like Nia and Company are stealing our reporter away from us and I'd hate to see it go to waste." @j8cob@pkken@Sanguine Rose----------------- "Glad to see you guys don't lose your sense of humor around here." Claire couldn't help but join Nia in her laughter as the strange blonde started to pose for seemingly no reason. She gave a nod of acknowledgment to Nia and Lee as she followed them over, risking a glance over at Serena as she did so. Seemed like the redhead wasn't moving to intercept her, so she was likely free to proceed with the group on their job. Glancing over at Lee, she couldn't help but notice another figure skulking around along the edges of the guildhall, with little lights that acted in a similar fashion to the stranges. . . illusions she wanted to say that the pale man had around him. "Uh. . . excuse me for assuming but. . . do you know that little girl over there? The one with the lights popping in and out of sight over her head?"@Hero@Grey@KiwiTime----------------- Road to Hilsgerd --- --- For one Trixia Blackfang, the last few days had been. . . less than stellar. Two days of nothing but watching the scenery go by, chilly nights on the roadside, a rather tasteless campfire broth, and similarly unappetizing trail rations. So far, the rest of today seemed likely to just be more of that as she sat on the back of the wagon while the trader that had requested the job managed the oxen pulling them along with nary a word to say. The entire trip he'd been fairly quiet and averse to conversation, speaking only in one or two words responses at best. "HEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy Trixie. . . whatcha lookin' at?" (Un)Fortunately, the man's son, Odin, proved to be much more sociable sort, having poked and prodded at the young girl for details and stories about how the guild was like, about her magic, about her life before the guild, and any other number of topics that a young merchant's son could think of as he tried his best to either get to know or irritate the girl. At present, he was sitting next to his father, turned around to give the young girl one of his beaming over-exuberant smiles. "I can't wait to show you the sights at Hilsgerd. Most people tend to think it's just a sleepy little town, but I'm telling you that if you know where to look, it can be quiet the fun little destination." He continued without even giving her room to really answer, gesturing to the road ahead where one could just make out the signature Windmill that marked the boundary town. While explicitly on the border between this region and the rest of Fiore proper, it was the first major settlement that people from Fiore are likely to pass through and as a result, often sees quite a bit of trade flowing through it. "There's that one pie shop that mother always loved to visit, the minstrel shows that play around midday, not to mention sneaking up to the old windmill. Oh, and let's not forget. . . " And so the boy would likely continue, spouting off about all of the mundane little pleasure to be found in the town unless Trixie saw fit to interrupt him.@Quincy----------------- Bludmach: Outskirts --- --- As the trio got themselves sorted out after their tumble in the back of the wagon, Klaus and Eldrid both would be made privy to another noise entering the marshlands, if only just so. Hidden in between the bursts of toxic bursts. . . a low grumble that was coming from. . . below. They would have only an instant to react before the entire wagon was suddenly launched skyward, flipping end over end and sending any unable to react in time soaring as well. Where the wagon had been situated, a shadowy creature stood instead, its form flickering as if it was not but a mirage brought on by the toxic swamp gases. But the strength which had launched the wagon was very much real and so was the toxic muck that some of the crew was about to fall into. Contact with the red mud with any exposed flesh would bring forth an almost searing pain as the caustic stuff began to eat away at their very flesh. Malone, for his part, was already getting ready to break his fall, curling into a ball to disperse as much of the force from landing as he could manage. That, mixed with the soft nature of the soil, made it so the force of the fall would not be too bad for anyone taking similar precautions, though it still knocked the wind out of him upon impact, seemingly unable to get up right away as he tried to catch his breath. They would be given scarely a moment to breath, however, as the creature continued its assault by tearing a path straight towards the weakest link in the group: Malon. @OwO@Asura</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Taking the sudden shake of the cart very well, the sickly Klaus sat dead still as a Ksavir launched through the air. Like some poorly written romance schlock, his hand had nested itself in a highly unprofessional place. Accidents happen. The sea dog knew that much. Though, if Eldrid had chosen to exact some form of retribution, he wouldn't really interfere. Such was sea law to let such small trifles (hey, it wasn't mutiny) be sort out by those involved. After they resituated themselves, a new noise made itself apparent. Something below. Oh lord, it wasn't a giant worm, right? Worms were pretty gross. Not that Klaus couldn't stomach them, metaphorically or literally. Their ribbed bodies and weird movement were kind of creepy. He could't warn anyone else before a sudden feeling of weightlessness came over him. The carriage that protected them from the bog had began to spin, something theorized by most as "very bad". For the first few flips, Klaus stuck inside the carriage, his rear practically glued to the seat. Around the fourth flip, his body was launched out of the carriage in the same position he had spent the entire trip in. Dogs were not to meant to fly. Klaus could swim and stay stable on any surface, but flying was out of his wheelhouse. Quickly turning to the advanced art of flailing, the wild dog spent his air time trying to land on his feet. Mud would soften the blow, but it was pretty much fetid shit. Probably had venereal disease in the muck too. But, by some miracle, he landed with enough grace to not get a face full of the toxic goo. His sleeve and pants took the brunt of the caustic mud. Thankfully, what did managed to splash onto his bare body had been rendered mostly null by the layers of fur that he possessed. But now was not the time to ascertain the damage. The MASSIVE wo—er, the reasonably sized (from his point of view) beast that caused all of the shit to unfold charged at Malon. It would require quick wit in order to get out of the bog unscathed. Or plain brute force. "I got'em! Tuck'n roll, Melon!" He bellowed at the marshrunner. Without much hesitation, Klaus drew his cutlass in one hand and pointed at Malon with the other. In an instant, the tip of a ghostly brigantine formed around Malon. The ship—its cannons suspiciously missing—erupted from the pressure the mud exerted on it and launched the entire ship directly at the beast. Thank goodness this was a swamp that smelled like liquid ass, Klaus thought for the first and last time in his life. Had it been regular dirt, his boat would have simply been stuck in the ground. Instead, multiple tons of boat had been turned into a projectile headed directly at the beast. Not the fastest attack, but a big ass boat on a collision course with one's skull was something that couldn't be ignored.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Lee Interacting with: @Raijinslayer@Grey Following Arc and Claire, Lee was quieter than normal. If the air was already cold, Lee and Violet were positively frozen as the two went on guard immediately. The dim lights were concerning admittedly, but they did not seem attached to any spirit Lee could recognize. "I'll admit, it could be worse, though I would be lying if I said I knew what is going on here. Just try not to stray from the group just in case us losing sight of the others immediately and the unnatural darkness didn't catch your attention." If this was anything like what the child experienced, there was no doubt they would have been lost almost immediately. Much like her father the air around her was cold, but filled with the familiar warmth of life that the small lights that oft accompanied the the two mages gave off in their presence "I don't feel anything yet, is that bad?" The lights danced around the Necromancers, even going as far as darting closer to the other two in the group, as if they were protective of the living mages they could recognize.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn Crashing into mossy soil and stone was never something to be triumphant about, but the sudden impact of the creature crashing to the marsh's floor was something of a win for Eldrid. It meant that the beast wasn't just going to skitter off back to its den the victor of this cowardly ambush. She hadn't expected to fell the thing with a few savaging blows, so its sudden shriek and reversal of the impromptu grapple she held on it did not surprise her much. Rather than try to struggle free from the monstrous creature as its shadowy maw grew to engulf her, she donned the wicked, battle hungry grin so common among those who practiced her magecraft. "Better than you have tried this, asshole!" Her hands slipped from its sides as its jaws saw fit to lock around her, fingers digging into the edges of its mouth in what one would assume to be a preventative measure to keep it from snapping closed on her. But it was not to keep it off her that she held so fast. Instead, it was to keep it from escaping her. Even as the whirring blades of its internal void sliced at her arms, the Dragonslayer inhaled a deep breath, the putrid swamp air mixing with the coppery scent of her blood. Then, with just as little warning as her earlier maneuver, she exhaled. Only, instead of the air she had sucked up, a cone of fire erupted from her mouth. Angry red dragonflame filled the beast's stomach in lieu of her flesh.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card The sea wolf had been too preoccupied with watching his two compatriots. Aye, he came along to ensure they wouldn't face permanent injury from the quest (and to ensure that a certain two people wouldn't ruin the reputation of the guild). To watch those kids (though they were at most 10 years his younger) scrap it out and try to help others filled him with a certain sense of pride. Wait, Malon was still being carted off by monster. Now wasn't the time for him to watch in pride. His thick fur that often protected him worked against him. It hid the feeling of him being sunk into the earth; he only realized once he was ankle deep. With all his strength, he resisted the creature's pull. He wasn't one to be beaten by his youngers, nor would he die in a place that wasn't the sea. No, he would sink with his ship in a blaze of glory. That was his chosen fate. A simple smoke monster that he could barely see thanks to his horrid dog vision? Not a chance. A ghostly green shape began to form on his back; a cannon's barrel pointed directly at the monster both above and below. With his back protected, the creature's bladed thrust had been redirected away from his broad back. At the same time, the cannon fired with a loud explosion. A flaming orb of spirits crashed through the smoky monster above and dragged their air with it. The pressure of the ball dragged what mud had been on his fur with it. The cannon itself, however, felt the recoil. The large frame smashed into the mud, erupting in an explosion of muck that was definitely felt by whatever was below. Klaus felt the recoil too, his body being sent even further into the ground. It wasn't far enough to trap him, though. With power in each step, he dragged himself out of the mud. How was he going to catch up with the flying Eldrid and help Malon? By stealing her idea of course. Aye, this wasn't something he would have wanted to done, but the situation called for it. He'd have to steal that technique that she used. With another cannon forming in front of him, he quickly clambered inside of the chamber. With another explosion, he was launched forward toward Eldrid. He'd make it, probably. His feet were in absolute pain and his hearing was shot from the two point-blank blasts, though. On the way overhead, he stuck out his hand for Ksavir. "Grab on, kid!" He yelled at the blood mage. For only a brief moment, the air dog's hand was reachable for the blood mage. Whether he came along or not was depending on how fast he could react to a wolf that was no longer restrained to land and sea.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- A Light in the Dark ✰✰✰ @Grey@KiwiTime --- --- --- --- Staring at the job board intently, Nia's eyes roamed the few jobs that lingered. The most interesting job had been snatched up right away, and the group had long departed. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, but so long as they stuck together and followed Klaus' lead, things would likely be alright. Her worry did fuel her indecision somewhat, part of her wishing she had some way of knowing how things went, another part of her subtly trying to figure out how much she still needed to make rent this month. She could probably skirt by the month with a small amount just under budget, but there were a few things she wanted to get for her little home that required more jewels than usual. At least, that was what she told herself; her apartment was minimalist at the moment, and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need more chairs for the seating area or a nice painting to hang on the empty wall, but she couldn't help herself. After letting out a wistful sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and randomly snatched a page off the board. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the lucky job--one Thoronia Whitecliff was requesting aid in finding her missing son. Oh, no, this was terrible and sad and--goodness, she felt herself tearing up already. There weren't very many details on the bill, instead asking for wizards to help her out. She frowned at the page, wondering what could have happened. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- The foul stench was getting to the sea dog. To a normal person, the stench of rot and bog water could be tolerated or ignored. His large physique could only recoil into itself to avoid the foul air. Seeing his imposing figure curled up and his large, clawed hands holding a much too small, soaked in spirits handkerchief to his nose was a sight to behold. Klaus was having an absolutely miserable time in the swamp on the outskirts of Bludmach. Why did he even come to a place so far away from the sea? The answer was responsibility. Having someone who—quite literally—joined the guild the previous day take an urgent, high-difficulty mission was a big red flag. Doing such a thing either meant you were sandbagging for most of your life or were an overconfident shmuck. The latter was always more likely. Having one of these types was bad enough, but two of them were bold enough to run headfirst into that four star quest wall. It wasn't like those elusive jobs undertaken by the greatest mages, though. Unless there was something really wrong, there was really nothing to stop people from overextending. Common sense, maybe, but nothing else. With Eldrid raging against the runner, the sickened Klaus piped up to rebuke her. "Oi, don't make trouble. Yer part of a guild now. Bein' a knob fucks it up for the rest o'us." He didn't really acknowledge the fact that his passive bonus to a party's intimidation played a pretty major part in getting the poor marsh runner to cart them in the first place.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Picking out just the right outfit that wouldn't get in the way and would still offer at least a bit of warmth was difficult. There were plenty that would do one or the other, and in the end, after piling almost all her clothes on her bed in various - seemingly incoherent - piles, Ria finally settled on a pair of skin tight shorts and tank top; no shoes - those would just get in the way. Her usual swimming attire, which she planned to pair with same spells she always cast for negating the cold of the harbor for her swims. But this time wasn't about a swim. The last thing she grabbed before leaving her room was the job flyer. If it hadn't been so late when she heard there was a job that would let her go swimming again, she would have been out on the bay already. For the past two weeks she'd planned to do just what the rest of the town was doing - waiting to see if Bessie would move back to deeper waters on her own. That wasn't happening, and now she'd get paid to do what she'd been considering. She didn't even care that it was a split between three people. A slight skip entered her step as she headed down to the ground level. "'Morning, everyone!" She waved at the gathered people at large as she walked over to the counter. "Serena, you made note that Cade and Will and me are going to deal with Bessie, right?" She pulled the flyer from where she'd stuffed it into her top. "They helped me find it yesterday. I figure it shouldn't take me long by myself, so with them helping - we'll have Bessie back out in the ocean by sunset. No problem!" It would just be a matter of waiting for her shopping buddies to be ready. She didn't want to wait long, but she wasn't about to start the job without them.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia shuddered slightly as they arrived, looking around a little nervously. Arcturus was right, something about this place was weird. She felt like something was going to jump out at them at any second, making it difficult for her to pay attention to the conversation. Keeping in a whimper of fear, she lightly smacked her face to snap herself out of it. She was a wizard for crying out loud! She had her keys, her magic...everything was going to be okay. No need to get scared. Right? Tuning back into the conversation, Nia did look around at the mention of lights. Oh this place was definitely haunted, wasn't it?! Quietly taking in a deep breath, she rubbed her arms as she listened. Unfortunately, runes weren't her specialty, and she couldn't say she was a huge fan of splitting up--this was like a horror story waiting to happen! That said, however, they were here to find the lost child, and he could be by himself and in need of help. So she nodded in agreement at Karna's statement, uncrossing her arms as she took a hold of her keys. "Okay, if we're splitting up, then..." She took a few steps back as she unhooked a silver key. Brandishing it, she channeled her magic into the key. "I call upon thee! Open, Gate of the Mirror: Meissa!" With a flash of light, a small, pixie-like creature appeared, its wings fluttering as she formed a circle. Once the circle completed, it split into two and a pair of mirrors formed, floating into Nia's hands. "We can use this to communicate," Nia suggested, offering the other mirror. "You know...just in case." She let out a nervous laugh. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Caderyn --- Ah, that makes it easy then, Cade thought to himself with a light chuckle as the mage passed out almost immediately after disembarking from his rowboat. "Alrighty then, the boat's yours Will. I'll keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty here." Since the guy passed out pretty hard Cade couldn't help but wonder how exhausting it was to hold up that barrier. Of course it would be way easier for him, because he's a badass with plenty of strength to spare. But the curiosity still lingered as he crouched down next to Kaito, making sure to turn the unconscious mage on his side. "I'd appreciate if you could get off the dock though..." he muttered to himself. "That barrier of yours ain't gonna last if this goes how I think it will..." With no further risk of the mage choking on his own tongue or vomit in case his condition got worse, Caderyn returned to his feet and looked back towards Ria and Will as they finished their final preparations before diving in. Literally, in Ria's case as she pointed out. Cade smirked at her joke and held out his left hand towards his partners, palm open and facing the sky. A bright glow could be seen radiating from underneath his sleeve, a white light as the magic seal on his arm activated. The light ceased to glow from his arm and instead a new glowing form manifested in the air above his open hand, quickly growing in size and taking the shape of a large bow. Once fully formed the glowing ceased, revealing that Cade had summoned his magic weapon, Eurytus. After he gripped the floating weapon he brought it back down to his side to take a distinctively non-combative stance. "I'm ready to save your asses if I'm right," he told Will and Ria, smirking confidently all the while. "Let's kick Bessie out now."</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was a half moment of hesitation, a moment that Ria debated going over and casting one of her restorative spells on Kaito, when she saw him collapse. She figured it was going to happen; she should have just done it when she was right beside him. But Cade seemed to have things well in hand. Chewing lightly on the inside of her cheek, she shook the thought from her head. Cade wouldn't let someone die. He'd get someone to help if Kaito is in real trouble. Her attention turned to the one-eyed (as far as she knew) mage. The concern and indecision vanished as she nodded. Her usual smile spread back on her face. "Don't be overeager and hurt her unless she is about to hurt one of us, please." She turned, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at Cade once more. "I'm counting on you to give signal if she's getting out of control. I don't want any more of my friends dropping off the barrier; I'll take it over if it starts to drop." She knew the spell from before she even moved here, they'd needed it from her before, but she had other barriers in mind. Stronger ones that relied on the force a dragon slayer could wield. The dragon slayer turned back to the sea, taking stock of the next wave to crash against the barrier simply from Big Bessie moving beneath the waves. She's just a giant lizard. Not even a dragon. This will be easy. She's just lost. Time to help her find her way out of here. Setting her feet like a sprinter, she ran for the edge and dove into the water. Her skin shimmered like light against water as she used the water around her to propel herself; she knew the water was frigid, hypothermia inducing, but her spell held both the cold and its dangers at bay.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn Crashing into mossy soil and stone was never something to be triumphant about, but the sudden impact of the creature crashing to the marsh's floor was something of a win for Eldrid. It meant that the beast wasn't just going to skitter off back to its den the victor of this cowardly ambush. She hadn't expected to fell the thing with a few savaging blows, so its sudden shriek and reversal of the impromptu grapple she held on it did not surprise her much. Rather than try to struggle free from the monstrous creature as its shadowy maw grew to engulf her, she donned the wicked, battle hungry grin so common among those who practiced her magecraft. "Better than you have tried this, asshole!" Her hands slipped from its sides as its jaws saw fit to lock around her, fingers digging into the edges of its mouth in what one would assume to be a preventative measure to keep it from snapping closed on her. But it was not to keep it off her that she held so fast. Instead, it was to keep it from escaping her. Even as the whirring blades of its internal void sliced at her arms, the Dragonslayer inhaled a deep breath, the putrid swamp air mixing with the coppery scent of her blood. Then, with just as little warning as her earlier maneuver, she exhaled. Only, instead of the air she had sucked up, a cone of fire erupted from her mouth. Angry red dragonflame filled the beast's stomach in lieu of her flesh.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- The sea wolf had been too preoccupied with watching his two compatriots. Aye, he came along to ensure they wouldn't face permanent injury from the quest (and to ensure that a certain two people wouldn't ruin the reputation of the guild). To watch those kids (though they were at most 10 years his younger) scrap it out and try to help others filled him with a certain sense of pride. Wait, Malon was still being carted off by monster. Now wasn't the time for him to watch in pride. His thick fur that often protected him worked against him. It hid the feeling of him being sunk into the earth; he only realized once he was ankle deep. With all his strength, he resisted the creature's pull. He wasn't one to be beaten by his youngers, nor would he die in a place that wasn't the sea. No, he would sink with his ship in a blaze of glory. That was his chosen fate. A simple smoke monster that he could barely see thanks to his horrid dog vision? Not a chance. A ghostly green shape began to form on his back; a cannon's barrel pointed directly at the monster both above and below. With his back protected, the creature's bladed thrust had been redirected away from his broad back. At the same time, the cannon fired with a loud explosion. A flaming orb of spirits crashed through the smoky monster above and dragged their air with it. The pressure of the ball dragged what mud had been on his fur with it. The cannon itself, however, felt the recoil. The large frame smashed into the mud, erupting in an explosion of muck that was definitely felt by whatever was below. Klaus felt the recoil too, his body being sent even further into the ground. It wasn't far enough to trap him, though. With power in each step, he dragged himself out of the mud. How was he going to catch up with the flying Eldrid and help Malon? By stealing her idea of course. Aye, this wasn't something he would have wanted to done, but the situation called for it. He'd have to steal that technique that she used. With another cannon forming in front of him, he quickly clambered inside of the chamber. With another explosion, he was launched forward toward Eldrid. He'd make it, probably. His feet were in absolute pain and his hearing was shot from the two point-blank blasts, though. On the way overhead, he stuck out his hand for Ksavir. "Grab on, kid!" He yelled at the blood mage. For only a brief moment, the air dog's hand was reachable for the blood mage. Whether he came along or not was depending on how fast he could react to a wolf that was no longer restrained to land and sea.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card A shiver ran up Ria's spine when she finally gave herself a moment to focus on her surroundings. It had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with how eerily empty the bay was. She didn't like it one bit. The bay, the sea, the ocean were supposed to be more lively than this. Even for a bit of fishing trouble, she expected to see more than just Bessie. She shook the thought from her head as she propelled onward. She dove a bit deeper, circling wide to keep Bessie fully in her sights. Big as Bessie was, she wasn't about to assume the beast couldn't maneuver fast. There were plenty of creatures that were large and seemingly slow, but could move when they wanted to. Her head tilted slightly as she observed Bessie for a long moment. The more she watched the creature before her, the more she was reminded of swimming with Cormenila. She had to shake her head to refocus. All right. Let's get you out of here. The dragon slayer stopped, treading water where she was, before finally summoning a current and pushing it toward Bessie to get the beast's attention. She would only wait long enough to figure out if it worked before taking off further out to sea - should Big Bessie respond to the prod.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Locals getting roughed up by the guild's manager was nothing new. Ria hadn't even thought twice about it really. The woman wouldn't have just roughed him up for fun, so obviously he had to have done something and whatever it was, Serena had taken care of it. What had taken some of the wind out of the girl's sails was the way Serena talked about Bessie. She always took the woman's advice to heart even if she learned later that the advice was actually just a joke. But where something might have been emotionally joking, one of the many things she had learned was that she never joked when warning about personal safety. At least, not when it was a serious job. Chasing off Bessie was a serious job. If not for the sake of the fishermen getting back to work, then for the sake of their barmaids not having to put up with daily harassment. Well that was going to take some thought. A lot more thought than she'd originally given the task. Originally she figured she'd just dive on in and get Bessie to follow her out to the sea, but she hadn't really studied how fast the beast was. If she was as fast as Cormenila, it would certainly take a bit more than she anticipated. Well, that was what Cade and Will were for. She could go in a direction and deal with a problem, but this planning thing was going to take someone that could plan. The whole reason she took it was because she could do the bit in the water and others couldn't. The only way this would have been easier would have been if Klaus hadn't gone to keep an eye on two of the other slayers in the guild on a more fighty job. The thoughtful look vanished from the young mage's face, quickly chased off by her typical smile, at the request to fetch Aiden. She heard of Sorcerer's Weekly; people talked about it. She opened her mouth to respond but heard Cade speak up from behind her. After a moment to process he'd shown up, the smile was back. "Well, we're just waiting on Will now. Then we have to figure everything out. Bessie may take a bit more than I figured since we just want to chase her off an' not kill 'er. But we'll talk about all that when Will gets here." Ria pushed off the counter with a bit of a bounce. "Serena asked me to go get Master Aiden, so I'll be right back. 'Kay? Don't go leaving without me!" She turned and bounded off toward the guildmaster's office. Knowing him, if he was doing paperwork like Serena implied, he'd fallen asleep. That safe assumption was confirmed when she stepped into the office. If it wasn't for the paperwork, he'd get a quick dose of water to get him going. Considering that meant the paperwork Serena didn't want messed with would be soggy at best, she had to decide on something else. Something less...hydrating. After a few moments of scratching her head, she finally shrugged. Tried and true was probably best. So she walked up to the guildmaster and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Master Aiden? Serena said someone from Sorcerer Weekly is here to see you. You gotta get up," she said softly while giving his shoulder a gentle shake.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- The tap and unfamiliar voice caught Nia's attention, the girl blinking in confusion. Oh, right, Serena did mention that a reporter would be coming around. But she didn't think she was going to get approached, but she supposed that the guild's more excitable members were either occupied or had already taken off on other jobs. Her eyes flickered from Claire's face to the lacrima, and she realized that she was just a little nervous. She'd rather not have any pictures taken, but she didn't see any photo-taking lacrima on her. Well, if it was just an interview, it should be alright. She'd have to decline any pictures if asked and answer a question. "Indeed, I am," Nia replied cheerfully before catching Arcturus' announcment. She tried to keep herself composed, though a tiny sigh escaping her. Putting two fingers to her lips, she let out a shrill whistle, waving Arc over before turning back to Claire. She gave her an exasperated smile, nodding. "Never a dull day here, I can assure you." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Kvasir had been busy punching trees outside until his knuckles were raw, but more importantly trying for the last half an hour to catch quite the elusive fly that had been pestering him for the last several days. This however was not guild etiquette especially in display of any onlookers even reporters to say the least. The violent giant still fresh blood to the guild was gently reminded of this by Aiden when he came waltzing outside. The mage full of grace and poise snatched the fly out of the air by its wings before handing it to the savage brute. He crushed it just as quickly as he obtained it leaving nothing more than a litany of body parts. Aiden spoke of a mission to some place called Bludmach, he didn't really pay much attention besides a few grunts to show he was fine with whatever the guild needed. The wagon was more or less, broken. It was quite the miracle it was able to house Kvasir, Eldrid who was rivaling his stature for a woman, and the dog that could stand on just his hind legs. Whether it was a party trick or magic, Kvasir couldn't tell but similarly found it too exciting to care. Bludmach's decrepit environment had done nothing in the way of alarming Kvasir. He had been used to seeing harsh environments on his way to Winter's Blade from the countryside. Unfortunately for Klaus, Kvasir's attention had been on him the entirety of the ride. Kvasir couldn't help but feel a strange compulsion to comb through the dog's fur looking for any kind of fleas or ticks. "Haha silly doggy" he thought until he was violently thrown across the wagon into the fiery red head. Kvasir propped himself up with what appeared to be a hand on Eldrid's bosom.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia couldn't stop herself from letting out a polite laugh at Arc's reasoning. It wasn't going to be the first or last time they misinterpreted one another, she supposed. But it was all in good fun! And more importantly, no harm done. The duo turned into a trio and then a group, and soon it was herself, Arc, Lee, and Karna all accompanied by the reporter as they left the guild. Nia tugged at the sleeve of her coat as she listened to Arc talk about Mrs. Whitecliff with a small frown on her face. A missing child was enough to worry any decent person, she couldn't possibly imagine the anguish the poor mother was going through at the moment. That said, she was pulled out of her thoughts as Claire spoke. Shoot, she was hoping to avoid an interview by focusing on the mission. At the mention of Serena, however, she did raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Serena could be intimidating sometimes, but she was harmless. Well, mostly harmless. "Ah, no, your assumption is correct," Nia cleared her throat, putting on a polite smile. "I came here from Crocus some time ago and heard about the guild through some very spirited banter in a tavern. Well, not so much spirited as instead it was more of a heated debate on mages and the effect on the town..." She uttered the last part, although she quickly shook her head and perked up. "Aiden was kind enough to accept me, and for that I am grateful. Getting to be in a guild is more fun than I imagined." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Yes, it certainly did sound like they had a plan. Ria's problem wasn't just coming up with a plan, it was sticking to it. If they had a communication lacrima so Cade could keep watch from the shore and tell Will and maybe she'd hear it one of the times she surfaced. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be staying under the entire time, but she certainly wasn't going to be able to hold onto a communication lacrima and deal with Bessie. The blast of frigid air that proceeded their guildmaster's grand entrance hit like a punch in the chest. She could stand outside without her spell cast for a decent amount of time in what she was wearing before she'd really feel the chill, but that was the natural environment. The Ice-Maker magic Aiden used put White Harbor's frigid gusts to shame. A shiver ran down her spine, but a smile spread on Ria's face all the same watching the display of his maker-magic. "Okay, let's go," she laughed as Serena broke the news to Aiden - that the interview was off. They had more important things to do than delay starting their job. "As you said before, the sooner we start - the sooner we might be able to finish and get something to eat." Ria didn't mind the questioning - and sometimes criticizing - glances she got walking down to the docks. She was used to the judgemental looks when she headed out for a swim. The cold didn't bother her until the spell wore off, and generally by then she was already on her way back to the guildhall. That's what she figured would happen again this time. She never really timed how long it took for her spell to wear off, but she figured they had plenty of time, especially since she was going to be out in her element. "So, Cade, you're staying on the docks, right? I'll be counting on you to help try to keep an eye on how things are going. I know the split between the bay and deeper waters below water, but I won't be able to tell how far I'm getting her out if we stay close to the surface. Will, if you're coming out with me, did you already secure a boat?" She looked at him. "Or were you planning on swimming too?"</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card It was out of the frying pan and into the fire or so it seemed. There wasn't but a moment of reprieve for Kvasir nor his comrades when the wagon was once again launched ass if it were made of paper mache. Before the wagon was launched and he had been laughing at the talking dog a shiver passed through him as the hairs on his neck stood on end. It wasn't the swamp causing the problems this time, it was something else or rather someone else. His instincts reacted faster than his mind like always. Using the momentum in which the wagon was tumbling, Kvasir propelled himself off the wagon and towards the direction of the beast instead of backing away. Klaus had a similar plan but instead sent his ghoulish ships to bombard the strange figure. Hopefully the cannon fire and sheer size of the ship would cloak Kvasir's body as he rocketed towards the fiend. It was all for not however since Klaus' attack seemed sufficient enough to put down the creature. Kvasir never trusted one attack to fully euthanize an enemy. To ensure he was dead, Kvasir landed viciously onto the ground beside the creature before raising his foot to bring it down aiming to curb stomp the creatures head.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Seeing the beast rise out of the water trying to get something, Ria smirked a little. This is going to be fun. Bessie was about the same size as Cormenila. She loved chances to spar with him. This was just going to be less fighting, and more tag. "Just like a game of tag," she muttered to herself with a nod. Fun. Her attention turned back to Will when he offered her the magical ring. Her eyes lit up, smirk turning an excited grin. "Oh, wow! This is so cool!" She took it and slid it onto the pinkie of her offhand. If she did need to throw a punch while dealing with Bessie, she didn't want to make it hurt more from the ring, or break the ring in the process. That would kind of ruin the point. She held up her hand to both watch it adjust to size and admire it. "So awesome." She looked over at Cade when he joked about needing one. She laughed. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on us." The smile left her face as she realized he was helping one of the barrier mages off the boat. She jogged over to help the mage off his boat. Surely that was why Cade was here too. "Hey, Kaito. Bessie isn't leaving as fast as I was told she would, huh? We're going to get her on her way." She offered the mage a smile. "You shouldn't have to go back out again to deal with her tidal waves. So rest up and relax, 'kay?" She waved as she walked toward the far end of the dock. "Right, guys, are you ready? Time to dive right in, right?" She laughed at her own pun.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster White Harbor --- --- "W-wha. . ." The young man looked between Cade and Vectis with glazed eyes, barely able to focus on their words before Ria piped up. Kaito looked at the small girl with a slow turn of the head, a hand holding up his head as he stumbled his way into a seating position. "R. . . Ria? I'm sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now. Been. . . holding up the barrier. . . four hours. . . so . . . tired." With a groan, the poor mage fell backward, sprawling out along the dock with his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He was still alive but obviously pushed well past his limits in keeping the rogue waves conjured by the massive sea creature from wrecking the town. Luckily, that meant that there was nothing stopping the group from nabbing the small boat for themselves. Rose The North(east)ern Grove --- --- Claire The reporter listened to all of the group's responses with keen interest, writing down notes on her lacrima slate. She offered a small apologetic nod to Karna for her assumption that she wasn't a native, feeling more than a little embarrassed for the misstep. At Lee's insistence on taking a child with them, however, she couldn't help but furrow her brow. "Isn't this a quest revolving around a missing child? I'm not on expert on these things, but that seems a hair irresponsible of you to do as her caretaker." Tapping her stylus against her tablet, she wrote down a few more notes with a frown before tucking it away to approach the symbol that Arc had pointed out. With a slight incantation, she conjured a magical seal in her palm to run over the symbol. Her eyes lit up for a moment, rapidly shifting images fluttering across her iris before she let them fall shut with a shudder. Taking a step away, she brought a finger to her chin, tapping at it in deep thought as she considered the marking. "In any case, this symbol you pointed out is. . . old. Really, really old. My Archive's database can barely pull up anything about them. If i can hazard a. . . rough translation, I'd say that they all seem to imply no small amount of danger to anyone passing this threshold." She slipped a none to conspicuous glance towards Lee as she said this, eyebrow raised but choosing to continue talking to the group as a whole rather than making further comment. "I can't really read anything else besides that, but if we're going to split up at all, I'm probably going to stuck with you, Arc. Call it a hunch." @Grey@KiwiTime@Inkarnate</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was almost no sign left of the monster that attacked them. Kvasir grew impatient and angry when he had nothing to crush under the weight of his foot. His senses were still heightened as he didn't trust this was all that was left of the beast who challenged him for authority. The words in the background were inaudible to him but not the sound of tendrils smacking the marsh runner's skull into the ground. Kvasir almost snarled in reaction until his vision was interrupted and forced to cut to underneath him. Blobs similar to that of the creature formed underneath them sprouting tendrils of their own. Had he simply stayed there the tendrils would sure enough pull him into the caustic center. In one swift action his chest puffed out and the veins from his body expanded through the skin. A deep howl left his lungs before blood shot out from his body in what seemed to be a concession of blades. Tendrils were cut and sliced like pieces of squid. He had to put some distance between him and the blobs and closer to the monster at the center of this. Propelling himself off the goo monster he touched solid earth once more and took off behind it and the marsh runner. Whatever the dog and the red headed woman chose to do was up to them.</s>
<\|description\|>CT 6871 "Carter" Age: 15 or so? Would probably look like mid-to-late 20s. Race: clone trooper Brief Bio: Carter is a Spaarti clone trooper and member of the 14th infantry brigade, who were created by Lord Palpatine himself near the end of the clone wars. Due to the point in time at which he was created, Carter only managed to get sent on a few missions, but had proved himself to be a dedicated and skilled soldier during them; enough so that the senator himself caught wind of the trooper's prowess. Impressed, and with need to protect a recently acquired specimen from the old Sith order; Palpatine called Carter up from his service and stationed him as bodyguard of the entity known as "Vehia". Carter was given the amount of time he needed to select gear to be taken with him, was briefed on what exactly he was to do, and was sealed into a cryo-stasis pod and placed in the warehouse alongside that he was to guard; the pod set to thaw him out if Vehia's were ever opened. Carter's orders were precise and had two objectives. The first was to ensure that when Vehia was activated, she wouldn't let slip of her true nature, or at the very least any slips were to be cleaned up with 0 witnesses to spread the word. The second was to stay at Vehia's side and, unless contradicting the 1st objective, follow her requests and instructions. Due to this, as well as the fact he was in cryo-sleep as the order was given; Carter missed the call to kill the Jedi that came with the fall of the republic and the rise of the empire. He is loyal to the orders he was given now, whatever that may end up meaning for those around him. Faction: Due to his orders, Carter has no strict loyalty other than to Vehia. If the emperor were still around this may be different, but that man has recently been removed from power, leaving Carter's only superior to technically be the bioweapon in his charge. Personality: Carter has always had a professional air to him, acting almost more like an officer than a soldier at times. This doesn't mean he was ever cold or strict as a person, just that he took his duties with a certain stoicism. This does add a slight predictable side to him though; as using whether he's acting rather relaxed and cool-headed or silent and focused can tell you whether you're in the clear or if he's about to start blasting anyone in sight he deems an obstacle in his tasked mission. Physical description: Carter looks about as masculine and well built as one would expect for a clone trooper, however his body is considerably less scared than the average clone due to his low mission count. One would not be too blameable for thinking him to be a shiny if you took a look at his face. He has one scar across his lower left side thanks to a close encounter with a B-2 super, but that's still far less than several of the veteran troopers out there. Equipment: * DP-23 shotgun * DC-17S silenced blaster pistol * A few thermal detonators, just in case</s> <\|message\|>CT 6871 "Carter" "20 odd years, right. Seems I have a lot of catch up work to do." Carter slowly steps out of the cryopod, keeping his shotgun ready but not directly aimed at Holdo. From the display given she was clearly not a threat, and while this other guy was far more competant, he seemed to be neutral enough. All the same he'd be cautious, scanning the room for anything else of note, including the pod containing his mission target, his footsteps slow and precice as he backed off from the woman who had woken him up. If nothing else, these two could prove helpful with catching him up on the time he'd spent in the deep freeze. "First off, who are you two?"</s> <\|message\|>Vaugtri Earhen "Thats a long story you see after the Clone Wars the Republic became an Empire because Palpatine claimed the Jedi tried to assassinate him and turned the Republic into an Empire and all that fun stuff. The Senate being full of monarchies and dictatorships thought it was the tightest spast and kept going for the next oh 20 Years or so before getting dissolved after they built the Deathstar, a superweapon that can crack worlds." Earhen continued rambling on with the historical lesson "Get to the point dammit!" Holdo yelled. The nearby guards were tense as well but what could they do a Vat grown killing machine holding their commanding officer hostage. "Fiiine I was enlightening this gentlemen on the current state of Galactic politics excuse me for being enthusiastic. We were initially the Alliance to restore the Republic then the Alliance of free Planets now we're the New republic now. Basically the new boss to your old boss cloney."</s>	<\|message\|>CT 6871 "Carter" "I see..." Carter said. So the chancellor overthrew the Jedi order and became the leader of an empire for two decades before being kicked out of power by these New Republic people. This brought to question the idea of 'what now?'. His loyalty did technically lie with the republic last he checked, but he fought directly underneath Palpatine. Not to mention his cover was a Couroscant guard soldier. Were these people his enemies or allies? He thought for a moment... His objectives were to keep Vehia's nature secret and to follow her orders... Well, that solves that dillema. Carter lowers his gun, stepping into a simple at-attention stance with safety on and barrel to the floor. "In that case, specialist CT 6871, codename Carter. I worked as part of the Corouscant guard until being tasked with acting the bodyguard for a high risk VIP named Vehia by the Jedi council. Speaking of which, where might the cryopod for her be located?"</s>
<\|description\|>Tasaia Straka Age: 38 Race: Farghul Brief Bio: Tasaia remembers very little from her childhood and early teens as it was all a haze of sedative induced docileness. Slavers stole her from the Farrfin city of Jahhnu after her parents stung the slavers with a sabacc scam. The slavers were penniless and took their daughter to repay the losses. Her parents, being unarmed and unable to compete with blasters, had to let them go. Tasaia was kept sedated as she grew to prevent any sort of attacks on anyone owning her. Until she turned fourteen, owners of her used her for two things: house duties and eye candy. She was cute and soft, so she would be on a couch by her owner at events to put visitors at ease and give her owner something to pet. She was not a slave long enough to become involved in dancing or prostitution. Her owner, a human of Susevfi, attracted the attention of the Jensaarai after a small incident of Tasaia inadvertently Force Pushing a visitor that was petting her too hard. The Jensaarai, a human woman named Kiara Straka, found the sedated slave and decided to take her in for training. As expected, her owner was frothing, but attempting to combat Kiara led to him bisected from her lightsaber. Tasaia's first memories were of three days after that, waking up in a Jensaarai medical bed with Kiara asleep across her lap. The two grew close, Kiara treating the young Farghul much like her daughter, even going so far as to name her and share a surname. Tasaia took to the training well, her predatory nature and independant mindset leading her to learn and perfect techniques easily. By the age of sixteen, she had reached her first milestone of mastering the basics. By eighteen, she made her lightsaber, an unusual combination of dual phase and saberstaff. The saber, when only using one side, could be extended up to three meters in length, functioning much as a two-handed sword. Unlike her peers, she did not gather her own crystal due to the short time of her training. Instead, she intentionally made four compressed synth crystals that made her saber midnight blue with an indigo core. The compressed crystals made the blade thinner and small energy oscillations run up the blade every three seconds. This afforded greater precision and control, thus making the extremely long blade of the dual phase much easier to control. Following her creation, Tasaia resumed her training, taking it at an accelerated pace. She managed to fully catch up to her peers and began crafting her armor within one year. While she was busy crafting and imbuing her armor, the isolation of her meditation and forging insulated her from the sudden partial purge of her people. Her mother was one of the casualties. Following the mediation and crafting in the isolated base, she was informed of her loss and the events as she was elevated to the status of defender. Feeling alone for the first time in her life, Tasaia went into self-imposed seclusion, training and working alone as she grieved Kiara's death at the hands of Palpatine. After a year, she decided to leave the planet and the Jensaarai behind. She felt no more kinship with them nor did she continue sharing their isolationist ideas. Tasaia, through a combination of her Force powers to mask her appearance and the help of a smuggler, managed to get offworld without incident. Once offworld, she discovered that the smuggler was also Force sensitive and was actually a part of a lesser known tradition. The Disciples of Twilight, as the man explained, worked quietly from within a society to protect and help the citizens. They particularly opposed tyranny and abuse of power. The smuller, actually a Disciple, let the young ex-Jensaarai know that he sensed her power and sought to potentially bring her into the fold. Luckily, Tasaia was drawn naturally to the Disciple mindset and decided to join him. From there, she traveled to Dyspeth and trained. Her already considerable ability with Force Illusion made her learn the unique powers of the Disciples within short order. Her mastery of the new powers came a year later. In 2 BBY, she finally left Dyspeth and began travelling the galaxy, protecting people as she went. This was a direct continuation of her training. She observed the infancy and development of the rebellion into a full-feldged military power. She saw the Empire cracking down on civilians. The war was not overly interesting to her as she had her hands full preventing the corruption and mistreatment of citizens, especially non-humans, among Empire territories. Her travels ended temporarily when she had to make a crash landing on Yavin IV following a pirate attack. On Yavin, she found the remnants of the Rebel base and some leftover ship parts and items. Using her technical ability and trial and error, Tasaia developed enough expertise in her ship model to repair and modify it using the parts she could find and salvage. She found a servant droid and astromech droid powered down but still intact. Upon reactivation, the droids became mainstays in her life for the 3 years she was alone, affording her some proficiency in binary. Once the modification and settling was finished, it was a scant few days before Luke arrived on the moon. Seeing them on some long range scanners that she managed to mostly reactivate, Tasaia managed to hide herself and ship in a nearby jungle. The Jedi landed and began whatever he had intended. Thus, since then, Tasaia has kept herself and her ship cloaked, making ventures to observe Luke's plans and actions while sensing no Dark Side in the group. Faction: Disciples of Twilight: Defected from Jensaarai after Disciples helped her learn of the galaxy, and she agreed with their worldview. Personality: Possessed of a highly independant streak and focus, Tasaia is an autodidact more often than a student. She will find materials or processes and learn them on her own rather than relying upon a group. However, she is very used to directed learning as she spent years under the guidance of Kiara. These traits make her highly knowledgeable and well-rounded in a variety of topics as well as granting her at least a passable skill in many procedures. Her self-education focused primarily upon medical and mechanical fields. Her mechanical expertise is mostly restricted to blasters, weapons, and armor for sentients. Outside of her education, she tends towards being witty and gregarious, often accidentally invading someone's personal space. What transpires next is very much feline. If she has been enjoying the company or meets a friend, she will then generally rub up against them a little. If not, she will normally not even get close. She holds her head high and is far from meek, though her small size and relatively high chance to simply first observe makes her prone to being forgotten. She finds the sudden surprise of when she speaks up quite amusing. She is virtually aromantic, though it is more a facade than an actual aversion to romance. It is partially a fear of loss and partially a matter of not yet finding someone she could like in that way. In addition, she has absolutely no interest in marriage or children and finds very small children annoying. Adults that tend to act childlike also tend to grate on her nerves. Tasaia is not prone to conning people, but she uses her innate conning ability to outsmart or con those harmful to the citizens around her. She usually uses this cunning in day to day life to play some pranks or games with friends or interested parties. She is not afraid to use the Force when playing games to increase her chances of winning. Her favorite games are Chatta-ragul and Dejarik, with her preferring the latter. Despite not being a mechanic, she has developed enough talent to maintain and modify her own ship. She could do some basic repairs and maintenance on other models of ship, but she is only particularly familiar with XS freighters and the modifications she made to her own. She does have a technical aptitude for crafting items and can function as an armorer and weaponsmith as well as being able to craft and modify blasters. She is multilingual, being fluent in Basic, Huttese, and Farghul. She, while not completely fluent in it, is able to understand droidspeak enough to communicate with her astromech droid. Both droids are precious to her and maintained meticulously. She intentionally will not memory wipe them and allowed them to develop their own personalities, finding it comforting to have almost biological company. She learned Farghul during her Disciple training as a way to reclaim at least a little bit of her ethnic heritage. Physical description: Straka stands at an impressively short, for a Farghul, 5'1". Her short height is made up for with her enhanced strength and speed, courtesy of her species and her felinoid status giving her leaner muscle for the same strength. Her seemingly curvy and soft exterior is quickly shattered for anyone touching her. Each movement felt betrays her densely packed muscles. Her fur is of an uncommonly dark variant and is kept well groomed. For some reason, much to her own comfort and the delight of others, she never lost the softness of her kitten fur, essentially staying adorably soft and warm to the touch. Her hair shares this softness, though it is much thicker than her body fur. Her golden eyes are obviously feline in nature and even have the tapem lucidum, granting her strong night vision and the trademark glowing eyes at night shared by many mammals. Her claws are kept clean and sharp, always ready to bite into a foe that manages to catch her unarmored. This overall grants her an attractive and seemingly inoffensive look with only her claws and sharp canines granting any hint of her predatory ability. Ship (Optional): Modified XS Freighter called Kitten's Ire Modifications: 1. Addition of 1 Astromech Droid and 1 Servant Droid after crash. It had 4 astromechs and 2 servant droids already. (They are models that have inherent limitations and thus cannot develop personalities) 2. 6 sets of passenger sleeping rooms, able to house two passengers per room. (12 total passengers) 3. Conversion of excess space into fuel storage and power production (reducing it to 50 tons of cargo space from its original 300) 4. Hyperdrives upgraded to Class 1 5. Part of the inside is converted to a captain living quarters, another part has a crafting area, and there is a small medbay. A full sized galley sits by the captain quarters.The central area of the ship is a large living area. 6. Hull has been updated with lighter, stronger materials, allowing for the same strength with reduced weight and bulk on the inside. (20% reduced internal bulk for the same RU) 7. Deflector shields have been modernized and rebuilt for both ray and particle shields. 8. Addition of two ion cannons, one on the bottom of each wing tip. 9. Addition of additional "wing" to produce symmetry and allow one more laser cannon hardpoint. 10. Replacement of laser cannons with stronger, 1000 terrawatt versions and making all three turreted.</s> <\|message\|>Eira "My name is Dremmick, and this is Eira. We appreciate the hospitality, Krayt. If you don't mind, I'd like to make a military landing, see what we can do about joining. I have a bone to pick with the Zann Consortium, but progress is slow on my own, want to hit them harder. The Nexu isn't the hardest hitting vessel, but you won't find many that can outrun her. If you could use a ship like that and two extra members, I'd gladly like to offer my capabilities to the Republic," Dremmick finished, hoping his answer was satisfactory. Eira on the other hand was a bit offended at the man's critique of her piloting. "I wouldn't have run us into anyone, he's just surprised his radar couldn't pick us up till I turned off the sonar dampeners," she mumbled. "Not now Eira, you can show off the ship after we land. I'm starting to feel cramped in here," Dremmick said, waving a hand and trying to get her not to interrupt.</s> <\|message\|>Lahana Sunset Yavin IV Kale and Lahana had landed on the moon minutes ago, choosing to come back to the temple for a number of reasons. Before searching for Aren in earnest, Kale needed to have maintenance done on his ship. The last thing they needed in an emergency was engine failure. While Kale spoke to a mechanic Lahana walked through the temple. She stopped by a training room and saw the droid she'd broken had been fixed. Her hands clenched, and her breathing quickened. It reminded her of Alara, and Alara reminded her of... She let out a sharp breath and walked off. The other reason they were here was because of something her Master had felt. A disturbance in the force, and an ominous presence that called for his attention. She hadn't felt a thing, like always. Some Jedi she was. So here they were, ready to defend the temple if need be, or go off moon to battle whatever force they needed to. She stopped to sit on a bench overlooking a fountain, hoping the shaking in her hands would cease soon. Kale meanwhile called Luke's com-link. "Do you mind if the two of us talk, alone?"</s>	<\|message\|>Tasaia Straka With Mara coming so close and basically hanging off the Farghul, Tasaia responded surprisingly well. She bumped her hip lightly to Jade's and rested her clawed gauntlet on the opposite hip as they walked. "Mmmm, yes, well let's not empty the Order's coffers or clothing inventory. We could find a few political fatcats to get some...donations to our cause if that's how you want to play it." She let out a surprisingly girly giggle, throwing a few nearby people for a loop given her imposing armor and stance. As the three others began to discuss some more important matters, Mara could feel Tasaia's fingers press into her hip some as the woman thought deeply about the situation. Once they spoke of it all and their concerns, the Farghul felt she had the floor enough to speak. "Yes, well, some grounding in traditions will help us gain a foothold to become better than our predecessors. However, the more pressing concern is that presence in the Force. Regardless of these larger forces at work, we need to figure out our local issue before it consumes us. One cannot deal with outside interference before internal issues are resolved, after all. The surge was not natural. It sent some of the local animals into a frenzy and made others spooked to the point of hiding for days, even the predators. There have been a few more minor pulses over the years I have been here, but the one last week strikes me as the harbinger of more powerful aftershocks." Tasaia took a pause to sigh heavily and close her eyes, feeling the Force again. The presence was growing ever more oppressive. She opened her eyes, a grim expression on her face. "We should be wary and ready for a fight on our hands. This arrogance is destructive, pride driven beyond human limits. I want at least some focus upon this before we begin training in earnest. Young Force users training in an atmosphere such as this are far more likely to accidentally delve into powers that corrupt, whether they intend to or not. I would rather not risk our fledgling group for the sake of showing off to the bureaucrats that we can begin training right now."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Treville felt his body relax, just a little at the fact she had not insulted him so much he would wish to cut her down where she stood. As much as he was an experienced veteran spending most of his time in war, he had heard the fearsome stories of this King and he would not be surprised should the treaty not be signed. After all the Eorzians were under the impression the marriage would not go through, a part of him believed as such so he would ensure he was ready to whisk her out of danger. It was hard not to feel some sort of curiosity toward him, her husband to be. A part of her had expected him to retaliate to her disrespect, her father would have but she had spent many a year fighting against him receiving ample punishment for her actions. Look at you now, sold away like a piece of meat. Just because I'm a lady, had I been a son I could have fought. The fights with her father had gotten her nowhere, it only fuelled her anger, fuelled her hatred towards men with power thinking that they owned her like she was property. Watching as he responded to her, saying there was no need to apologise the anger started to simmer down and she started to uncurl her fist. He had been respectful, better than what she had been, and she felt a pang of guilt for being so disinterested. Was I too guarded? No. Perhaps I am simply playing into his plan. "Thank you, your highness, for coming all this way to escort me and ensure I reach your Kingdom safely. It is greatly appreciated." It did not surprise her when he spoke of his lands being perilous, it had been quite difficult for the Eorzians to survive such a land whilst in war with them. Nodding to him as she watched him turn, she turned her own back looking at her men who had began to move into place to continue on the ride. Treville had started ordering men back into position and he stood at the carriage door to open it and help the Princess inside. Elise was about to return to her carriage, feeling the relief that she had somehow managed to smooth over her mistake but hearing his next words made her heart drop. "I…" Stumbling over her words for a moment she felt the hesitation, not ready for the option of him riding with her in her carriage. She couldn't outright decline the request, that would be disrespectful, and she could not push her luck. Not yet. Turning to look at him once more she glanced at Treville who gave her the look of don't even try it and she conceded. Offering a smile to Ozraged she gave a nod; the smile did not reach her eyes, but she doubted he cared. This is all for appearances after all. "What a… wonderful idea." Regaining her composure as she considered his words, tedious journey. Alleviate boredom. Either he was hinting towards the fact that he felt this was tedious or again she was no doubt overreacting. Taking Trevilles hand as he helped her into the carriage, she sat herself down feeling a bit concerned on what they would even talk about, get to know each other? Was it really necessary? Although maybe I could find a weakness, use it to barter for my freedom. Fidgeting in her seat she closed her eyes composing herself, calm yourself down. Don't get yourself into trouble. Maybe you can use this time to figure out a way of the marriage, but still keep peace? She began giving herself a pep talk, reminding herself that she should not show any sort of weakness to him. Turning to address the King she opened her mouth before frowning, she didn't really know what to ask. In fact, she felt quite awkward, her fingers began to tap against the blue fabric of her dress before she finally spoke up "What's your Kingdom like?" It was a good start for her, it might even be beneficial to gather an understanding of his Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth That had thrown her off balance, Ozragad thought to himself with a sense of small satisfaction as he dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to one of his guards. He had seen her hesitation then, the glance for reassurance to her guards. She had regained her composure soon enough, but when they were alone, would she act so brave before him? "Go ahead, I will have no further need of your services." He dismissed his herald and the two guards with a wave of his gauntlet covered hand, took one final look over the edge of the bridge into the rushing depths below, and casually walked over to the opened carriage door. As he climbed inside he fixed his eyes of molten gold on the older guard with the scarred face, the one the Princess had glanced to so conspicuously before. Try anything, and I will open her throat before she can scream. He did not want the game he was playing interrupted by an ill advised assassination attempt. As he took his seat opposite the Princess the door swung shut behind them, the driver lashed the reins, the carriage began to roll forward over the chasm. To sit comfortably Ozragad had to unbuckle his sword belt, he did so slowly, deliberately. When he had removed it he lay it carelessly his lap in full view of Elise. His hand sat resting near the top of the scabbard, his fingers drumming against the leather coated wood, the hilt easily within his grasp. Waiting. Her hands were busy also, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. She is nervous now we are alone. Perhaps he should be the one to speak first. Perhaps it would be better to let her sweat and suffer his silence. She turned towards him, frowned in thought or concentration. She is considering her words carefully, she thinks before she acts. Finally her lips parted and she asked him a question. What was his Kingdom like? A neutral question, not quite a banality, but not searching for personal secrets or intimate knowledge. A useful question for a foreigner like herself, but perhaps a thorny one for him. He turned away from her and looked out of the carriage window, considering his own response. They had past the towers that held the Morganyth side of the bridge and were travelling up a rocky windswept valley to mountain pass that would eventually take them to his capital. Scree slopes of shale tumbled down from the peaks to either side, clumps of hardy twisted birch trees grew in the shelter of the larger boulders, budding for the arrival of spring. The base of valley was taken up by stream that trickled down to meet the Kazadun and open areas of brown grassland and bracken. On a hillside, a lone figure stood by a flock of small dark fleeced sheep, they watched the procession below with interest. When he finally spoke his voice was deep, sonorous. "Much of it is as you see before you, mountain and moorland. On the southern coasts it turns to salt marsh and if you go too far north the mountains grow higher and are crowned with ice. Beyond Cirith Anyr are the Ashlands and mountains of fire, they are... difficult... to comprehend if you have not seen them with your own eyes. As for my city... you will see it soon enough." Ozragad's lip curled with a faint smile at that. There wasn't much beauty in the harshness of his land, but he was proud of what the Formori had built at Cirith Anyr, in spite of the bitter memories he associated with it. The he felt the flicker of his rage when his mind retraced those old wounds from his past, carelessly resurrected by an idle thought and a woman's presence. How different his life might have been if Morganyth had been green, if they had just a sliver of what the Eorzian's squandered. Is she mocking me? Making me spell out the meanness of my Kingdom to make light of our inferiority. His face set into stone. "I understand from my time in Eorzia that it does not compare favourably." He looked at her directly then, would she agree him with, or try to play false modesty? He decided to press her further, provoke her. "The countryside around the capital is especially pleasant I recall, but you must have grown up in the palace correct? How does it look now? I haven't lain eyes on the interior since it burned. Did they remodel? I always found the frescoes in the royal bedchamber too gaudy for my preference."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Hearing the door shut behind him was deafening to her, it felt like she was locked in. Trapped with her fate and she couldn't help but watch him. Elise could feel her heart hammering away, being stuck in this carriage with him was not exactly what she had in mind. Feeling rather uneasy as she watched him unbuckle his belt it sent quite a few dark thoughts running through her mind. Stop it, stop overreacting, he wouldn't dare do anything unless you give reason too. Fingers played with the hem of her dress, finding comfort in fiddling with the expensive fabric. Turning to the window when he had taken a look outside, she waited for his response to her earlier question, it felt strange to be going so far into a foreign land. The land itself was extremely different to her own and what she had grown up around, but she had barely left the palace. Elise had been quite the sheltered Princess, but that was because her father feared letting her out of the confines of the palace worried she'd get kidnapped or assassinated. Listening to his description of his land she continued to look out the window letting the scenery accompany his words, building a better for her about his Kingdom. I guess it has its own beauty, the mountain of fire however sounds interesting. I can't picture such a thing. Looking over at him she caught glimpse of a faint smile, he was proud of his land and even though it differed to her own he should be proud of such a thing. She would have been proud too if she was in his own shoes and she accomplished as such. "It's quite admirable what your people have down with the land, considering." There was no hint of her words being malicious, it was a genuine compliment. One that she felt would be the only compliment she would make whilst here, but she could not deny that his people had done well considering how dead the land itself looked to her. Leaning back in the carriage she watched him once more, his next words irking her, provoking her and she almost retaliated without thinking first. Almost. "I suppose I could be modest about my own land however Eorzia is very much blessed in every way." There was no need to be fake with him, he knew she didn't like him so why pander to him? Why should I play fake modesty to stroke your ego? "Our countryside is exquisite; we are blessed with plenty of crops each year that our people harvest. Lands of various greens, flowers consistently in bloom and the fresh air has done wonders. It's hard to imagine our Kingdom was at war with how peaceful the countryside could be. Perhaps you'll enjoy a visit seeing as my dowry comes with land." She wasn't stupid, although her father had not told her what the price for her had been, she had found out herself, sneaking a look at the letters that had been exchanged regarding her fate. The Kings next words however did hit a nerve with her, the fire returned in her blue eyes and the fabric she had once been fiddling with was now scrunched up beneath her fingers as her hand curled into a fist. "I can't comment on it's past interiors, maybe you did it a favour by burning it? Maybe not. However, the palace is like a work of art, although I highly doubt your taste levels agree with ours." Looking him up and down as she clearly questioned his own taste with her words, her own pride getting in the way of what might have been a more sensible response to him.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Crossed his mind? Spies? Being thrown into a cell? It was hard to read him, but it was safe for her to assume he could have expected all options. Being a King, you must expect the unexpected, you can't underestimate anyone, or it could be your demise. It was a depressing and no doubt exhausting consistently thinking on such things, but it couldn't be helped. Underestimating someone had been the downfall of him, Athos the deceased younger brother of the Hydealyn line. It pained her father to this day to talk of him, so he was barely mentioned anymore. It was as if he never existed. Athos had been killed because he had not been cautious of someone that had gotten awfully close to him, they had wormed their way into his heart and stabbed him in the night killing him. It had been quite the blow to Eorzia. "Thank you, that is very kind of you to do so." Offering a polite smile when he had stated he would find people to attend to her, she expected he would. It's probably a win for you, watching my every move. I would have done the same in your position. Pondering her thoughts on what kind of reception she would receive from his people, there had to be some hatred. She was a foreign Princess and she knew that envoys of opposing countries received quite the amount of scorn when in another country. Considering his words as he mentioned he would have his own guards escort her she had opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she thought more on the words. Her own guards could cause quite the stir, if they were about in the foreign city their safety couldn't be guaranteed which could be a reason as to why he had said his own guards to escort her. "I would like to visit the upper city, when you deem it acceptable of course. I am curious to your land, your Kingdom. It's incredibly different to what I have grown up with and it would only be respectful to your people if I learn about your customs and lands." Plus, I hate being confined anywhere. Leaning on her hand as he continued the rules, outlining where she could go, she nodded. It was pretty standard, his own palace had areas she was not allowed much like hers back home. "Understandable, I will do my best to abide by that." Stifling a yawn behind her hand she didn't want to come across rude, he wasn't boring her she was just tired from the journey. Sighing inwardly, she knew the day was not even close to being over and it would be hard to rest in new surroundings, well it was hard not to worry someone would come by and kill her in the night. "How many people are in attendance to this ceremony? You mentioned it was going to be small so I can assume it won't be a long affair?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad watched as the Princess covered her yawning mouth with one slender white hand. Was he boring her? No, it had been a long journey for her, at least three days already. They may not have even stopped properly the night before last when they entered the marches. She must be tired. He would give her a chance to rest before they arrived at Cirith Anyr. It would probably be the best for both of them frankly, he already had plenty to consider from their conversation thus far. "My regent must return my seal of office when we arrive. The wider court will be in attendance but you will not have to speak with them, that can wait until tomorrow." He looked out of the carriage window once more, they had crested the mountain pass he saw, the road ahead of them led back down into a wider but more desolate valley than the last. The trees were fewer, the grass patchier. Though the mountain tops were still mostly composed of rock, the soil seemed sandier and had a distinctly greyish tinge. Now was as good a time as any to take his leave. Ozragad thumped twice on the roof of the carriage, signalling for the driver to stop. "I can see you are tired. It would be wise to rest to now, you shall still have a few hours before we arrive at Cirith Anyr. I will take my leave, Your Highness." When the carriage came to a halt he pushed open the door and stepped out. Further down the road his men had noticed the delay and were turning to face the Eorzian entourage. He gestured to them to bring his horse up for him as he re-buckled his sword belt around his armoured waist. I think that went surprisingly well, considering the fact we both openly provoked and insulted each other on our first meeting. When they brought his horse back around he remounted swiftly, glancing back over his shoulder once to see if he could catch the eye of the Princess with his own smouldering gaze before he rode off. So long as they both understood she was just a tool to used, his schemes would ultimately be realised, he was sure of that. Ozragad felt he had gotten the better of her in that encounter, his power over her would only grow once she was in the palace surrounded by his own people. They rode onward. Ozragad took the point of a wedge of his soldiers in front of the carriage and the Eorzian guards as they made their way back down from the mountain pass. The wind that blew in down the valley and rippled through his long unbound hair smelled faintly of brimstone. In the distance he could see a pall of smoke hanging above the horizon. One of the fire mountains must be erupting, there would be a heavy ashfall tonight. They should hurry, darkness would come earlier with the ash. He spurred his horse forward. For sometime they travelled onward through the barren landscape, the brooding clouds drawing nearer and nearer. At the end of the valley they came to river, smaller and gentler than the Kazadun, the road split in two there. One branch continued out across a low arched bridge and off into a seemingly endless grey plain beyond - the Ashlands. The other branch swung north, along the meandering course of the river, tracking it to its source. That was the path they chose. Not long now... The night was closing in fast, but before them he could see the great mountain beneath which the hidden city of Cirith Anyr was concealed. As they approached the gates, Ozragad felt something softly fall upon his forehead. It felt like a snowflake, but with none of the cold. He raised a hand to wipe it away, the fingers came back smudged. Ash. He stared up into the sky and watched as the ashfall began, the flakes dancing down from the leaden sky above. The river split before them, the larger part came boiling out of a low cave beneath a high rocky cliff. The other half was a narrow stream that tumbled down from the mountains and ran along the bottom of the cliff face to join the flow they had followed up from the crossroads. This narrow stream was bridged also, but it did not lead to another valley or vista beyond - it lead directly into the cliff side. A great gateway had been carved there, rudimentary battlements and towers protruded from the rock face, and two long red banners fluttered to either side of the open gates. These were gates to Cirith Anyr. He was home. ---</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Would that be rude? Not to speak to them. It's probably a safer option, I barely managed to smooth over insulting the King. It was a relief to know that she did not have to address them, not tonight. The journey had been long, and she had never been on the road for so long before, there were parts of her body she never knew could hurt. There had been times when the carriage felt so confining, no air as well as the feeling of being claustrophobic something she had not experienced before being on the road. Was it that obvious? Meeting his gaze as he spoke of her being tired, thankfully he was using that as an opportunity to leave the carriage and she could be on her own once more. She felt a rush of relief because she could take the time to get some rest whilst feeling safe surrounded by her guards, it wouldn't be the same when she was in his palace. His home. Watching as he left the carriage, she felt a huge amount of pressure leave, sighing outwardly as she slumped down in the carriage not realising just how much effort that had taken. Safely back on her own in the carriage she looked out of the window only to catch his gaze before riding off, she felt the anger once more. Her gut instinct telling her that she might just have lost her first battle against him, but she had to remind herself that was okay. Perhaps he will underestimate me. Scoffing she threw herself back onto the chair folding her arms as she refused to watch him lead the charge, various emotions coursing through her as she closed her eyes grumbling about him being a fool. "Stupid, arrogant… maybe I'll just run from the palace. Watch that peace crumble. Get myself killed, then there would be no worry" Grumbling to herself as she felt the cool wooden wall of the carriage as she leaned against the fine wood. It was hard to settled as she could feel every ache in her body, the stiffness of her shoulders but exhaustion had won. Amidst her grumbles her body started to relax, once folded arms began to fall to her side. The slow rise and fall of her chest as she finally got some rest, dreams of the future plaguing her sleep. "Gah!" Opening her eyes with a start as Elise frowned glancing around the carriage looking for the cause to her waking. There had been a bump in the road, and it had woken her with a start but for a moment she had panicked. Tutting to herself as she rubbed her neck scolding herself for being stupid, she glanced out the window looking at the brooding clouds that were looming above them. How long was I asleep for? Rubbing her eyes pale fingertips brushed against her cheeks noting they were quite warm, shaking her head she looked back out of the window taking in the new scenery to distract herself. "That's not snow." Whispering to herself as she saw white flakes fall from the sky, a part of her had thought for a moment it could have been, but she remembered how this land was near volcanic activity. She was certain of it. Blue eyes caught sight of the gates; eyes widened at how they looked. It was magnificent in its own regard, but yet it terrified her. No… I should not be here. I should have run when I had the chance. Her stomach churned as she couldn't look away from the gates, the red banners fluttering away in the wind and she felt she had arrived at her doom. Feeling the carriage come to a halt her hand went to her mouth, for a split second she had felt like she was going to throw up, but she kept composure. Feeling her stomach still churn away she took a moment in the carriage before she would emerge, she heard the door open no doubt Treville was waiting to help her out, but she just couldn't. Not yet. "Your highness." Smoothing out her curls as she heard the hiss of Treville urging her to leave and she sighed, there was no going back. Her stomach had not settled fully but she could work with it, ensuring that she stood tall and proud, fully composed she left the carriage taking Trevilles hand as he helped her out. It felt so strange taking her first steps on foreign land, something she had never imagined herself doing. Looking up at Ozragad she bowed her head politely knowing that whilst in his land she did have to be respectful. Elise however did not speak for fear of her stomach betraying her, even though the Princess was quite fair her complexion was paler than usual.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Would that be rude? Not to speak to them. It's probably a safer option, I barely managed to smooth over insulting the King. It was a relief to know that she did not have to address them, not tonight. The journey had been long, and she had never been on the road for so long before, there were parts of her body she never knew could hurt. There had been times when the carriage felt so confining, no air as well as the feeling of being claustrophobic something she had not experienced before being on the road. Was it that obvious? Meeting his gaze as he spoke of her being tired, thankfully he was using that as an opportunity to leave the carriage and she could be on her own once more. She felt a rush of relief because she could take the time to get some rest whilst feeling safe surrounded by her guards, it wouldn't be the same when she was in his palace. His home. Watching as he left the carriage, she felt a huge amount of pressure leave, sighing outwardly as she slumped down in the carriage not realising just how much effort that had taken. Safely back on her own in the carriage she looked out of the window only to catch his gaze before riding off, she felt the anger once more. Her gut instinct telling her that she might just have lost her first battle against him, but she had to remind herself that was okay. Perhaps he will underestimate me. Scoffing she threw herself back onto the chair folding her arms as she refused to watch him lead the charge, various emotions coursing through her as she closed her eyes grumbling about him being a fool. "Stupid, arrogant… maybe I'll just run from the palace. Watch that peace crumble. Get myself killed, then there would be no worry" Grumbling to herself as she felt the cool wooden wall of the carriage as she leaned against the fine wood. It was hard to settled as she could feel every ache in her body, the stiffness of her shoulders but exhaustion had won. Amidst her grumbles her body started to relax, once folded arms began to fall to her side. The slow rise and fall of her chest as she finally got some rest, dreams of the future plaguing her sleep. "Gah!" Opening her eyes with a start as Elise frowned glancing around the carriage looking for the cause to her waking. There had been a bump in the road, and it had woken her with a start but for a moment she had panicked. Tutting to herself as she rubbed her neck scolding herself for being stupid, she glanced out the window looking at the brooding clouds that were looming above them. How long was I asleep for? Rubbing her eyes pale fingertips brushed against her cheeks noting they were quite warm, shaking her head she looked back out of the window taking in the new scenery to distract herself. "That's not snow." Whispering to herself as she saw white flakes fall from the sky, a part of her had thought for a moment it could have been, but she remembered how this land was near volcanic activity. She was certain of it. Blue eyes caught sight of the gates; eyes widened at how they looked. It was magnificent in its own regard, but yet it terrified her. No… I should not be here. I should have run when I had the chance. Her stomach churned as she couldn't look away from the gates, the red banners fluttering away in the wind and she felt she had arrived at her doom. Feeling the carriage come to a halt her hand went to her mouth, for a split second she had felt like she was going to throw up, but she kept composure. Feeling her stomach still churn away she took a moment in the carriage before she would emerge, she heard the door open no doubt Treville was waiting to help her out, but she just couldn't. Not yet. "Your highness." Smoothing out her curls as she heard the hiss of Treville urging her to leave and she sighed, there was no going back. Her stomach had not settled fully but she could work with it, ensuring that she stood tall and proud, fully composed she left the carriage taking Trevilles hand as he helped her out. It felt so strange taking her first steps on foreign land, something she had never imagined herself doing. Looking up at Ozragad she bowed her head politely knowing that whilst in his land she did have to be respectful. Elise however did not speak for fear of her stomach betraying her, even though the Princess was quite fair her complexion was paler than usual.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- Morganyth - Cirith Anyr --- --- They emerged from the long darkness of the tunnel and into the perpetual twilight of the great cavern of Cirith Anyr, last of the cities built by the the Formori before the arrival of humans. The enormous cave, large enough to house a whole city, had been carved out over the course of thousands if not millions of years by the river that trickled through its base - the Anyrun. A stone bridge stretched over its course to link the side they stood on to the city that rose towering above across the water. The whole city was built into the far wall of the cavern, a great steep sided natural ziggurat of rock face that had been carved into level upon level of stepped terraces. Bound by three dividing walls, the city was separated out into lower and upper districts, with the palace sitting atop the whole edifice. Outside of the lowest of these walls the floor of the cavern was planned and managed as well. The river was crossed with dams and weirs, turning it into a series of deep ponds and pools. There were even fields of a sort by its bank, cultivating fungi and tubers, which needed little light to thrive. The architecture of the city was varied. The houses and squat towers of the lower city were plain and utilitarian, reminiscent of the construction of the fortifications which had guarded the entrance to this secret haven. This section of the city was the newest, hurriedly thrown up the days of his great grandfather to accommodate the rush of refugees that come here to seek shelter from the threat of humanity. Those refugees had gone on to become the everyday citizens of Cirith Anyr, those who made up his armies and operated the workshops and factories that the Morganyth war effort relied up. High above the lower city the great walls of the upper city loomed, draped in Ozragad's red banners. These had once been the original walls of the city, the buildings they hid were finer and more delicate than those below. Fluted towers, great domed halls, and arched colonnades stretched along the edges of the terraces. This was the old city of the Formori, the last of their ancient stronghold that they still clung to. It spoke of a very different culture than the one which had built the cyclopean defences at the mouth of this cave. A culture that had once loved beauty for its own sake and had indulged in whimsical flights of fancy. And crowning it all, glowing with ethereal white-blue light, was Ozragad's palace. Its elegant ivory spires almost seemed to hover like a mirage in the gloom of the cavern, disconnected from dark grey stone of the natural rock. It was an illusion of course, the palace had merely been built of white marble, enhanced with the magic of the glowing moon crystal that was set into its facade. It was not as large as the palace in Eorzia, Ozragad knew that, but he had always thought the craftsmanship that went into it was of a far higher standard. The Formori had spent hundreds of years carving every surface with ornament and detail, transforming bare stone into scenes so real they almost had a life of their own. He had seen reliefs of stone forests that swayed with the breeze, stone fish that leapt and swam in their stone waters. It was beautiful. He envied the Princess for a moment then, see this for the first time, untainted by the past. They brought their horse to a stop whilst still on the far side of the Anyrun. Horses could deal with the narrow, twisting, and often stepped streets of Cirith Anyr well enough, but the Princess's carriage would not be able to do the same. One of her guards had dismounted and opened the door of the carriage. She took his hand and emerged, bowing her head to Ozragad when she did. Good, she knows how to play at being dutiful at least. "Princess Elise Hydaelyn of Eorzia, this is my capital. This is Cirith Anyr."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Casting her eyes over the capital Cirith of Anyr it was kind of mesmerising, she had never seen such a thing before. Although it was dark compared to Eorzia it held such a beauty of its own, even though there was barely any greenery she could see the fields by the riverbank harbouring what she could only assume was fungi thriving in the darker setting. Comparing it to her own city the architecture was vastly different, it seemed basic in places, but it was almost like a secret city nestled within this cave giving it quite the mysterious aura to her. It was quite a lot to take in, the secret city within the cave. The somewhat darker feel of the city, but it radiated power and history. The curious side of her wanted to know more, she wanted to explore the city as she was certain she would never see anything like this again. It was hard not to admire it's beauty, although Eorzia was different with more aesthetically pleasing gardens, greenery and sun this city had it's own beauty. Looking up at the glowing castle it was hard to miss, it was the shinning beacon of the city and the white-blue light gave it such a royal feel. That was clearly the palace, the ivory spires and elegance that oozed from it she couldn't picture any other place being his home. A part of her envied how the palace seemed to glow, as much her own home was elegant and stunning it didn't have that glow to it. It was simply amazing, but her thoughts turned bitter at admiring the city. I highly doubt I'll be leaving this place, not alive anyway. That thought alone sent shivers up her spine as she felt she was entering her demise here. Lost in her thoughts her eyes were darting around the place, taking in everything she could see. It took a couple of minutes before she had realised Ozragad had addressed her. Snapping out of her thoughts she looked at Treville who had cleared his throat to grab her attention so she didn't completely embarrass herself or insult anyone. Elise felt herself inwardly cringe at the realisation she had ignored the King, composing herself she turned to face him offering a small smile which did not reach her eyes. Thankfully that sickness feeling has passed so she wasn't too fearful to talk. "My apologies, Cirith Anyr is breathing in its own way. I've never seen something like this before, it's… quite a lot to take in." Taking a look back at her carriage she could see her men preparing it to be stored somewhere, it didn't look like it could go any further into the city so no doubt they were placing it somewhere for safe keeping for when needed in the future. If it would be needed. A part of her still focused on the negative, the idea that she would never leave this place and how she was now trapped. "Your palace, it glows. I'm assuming the marble plays a part in that?" The only material she had ever seen so white was marble and their own palace had room crafted with such material, but it didn't glow. Not like his palace. Moving forward slightly she saw Treville move slightly behind ready to protect her from any sort of attack, it was a possibility that could happen she didn't completely trust his intentions.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn At least I am not the only one who feels awkward in this encounter. Looking back at the food in front of her she tried to focus on anything else but the King who was sat right next to her, it was hard not to feel somewhat awkward around him. It was easy enough to shoot men down and their feeble attempts at courting, but this was a completely different matter as her father had sold her off already. For some stupid land, although by the looks of it his people could do with the greenery. I highly doubt much can grow here. Focusing on her thoughts she had barely caught the fact he had replied to her about being happy with her quarters. Reaching out for a piece of bread she hesitated slightly looking over at him as he blew on the hot soup before eating. The words he had spoken told a different story, a part of her was curious as she wondered on if she had offended him in some way or perhaps something was wrong. Well he would hardly speak about it to me. Glancing back at the roll she let her hand drop from reaching out and instead went for more wine over the food, she could smell the soup in front of her and she knew she should eat regardless of her appetite waning at his venomous words. Are you trying to scare me? Or is this something to coddle your own ego? Watching as he had turned from her and began to speak with Manawyndan exchanging quite brutal war stories, no doubt in her mind about it being her people he had slaughtered as he seemed to focus on the bloodiest of battles. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes she looked away not entertaining the idea anymore, she would simply focus on eating her food. Perhaps the main course, I've gone off the idea of soup. Under the table her hand touched her stomach as if the warm touch of her hand would quell the nausea but all she was met with was the soft fabric of her dress. Drawn from her thoughts she looked over at one of the Formori who had addressed her, offering a smile as she looked over the woman, she couldn't help but think how beautiful she was. The striking colour of her hair and jewellery that matched her eyes, it was hard not to appreciate how well the colours of her dress to the accessories and hair that all tied in together beautifully. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Cheldarine." Following her gesture as she introduced her eldest son to the youngest. "Thank you." Eyes glanced over at the adolescent who had refilled her glass of wine before turning back to Lady Cheldarine, excited at the idea of talking to someone else. Laughing softly alongside Cheldarine as she hinted towards her son taking his duty and not wanting a mother to distract him, "He will miss it one day, no matter how old nothing can break a bond of a mother and their child." Smiling as she glanced back over at the royal cup bearer before returning her attention to Cheldarine, "Oh don't apologise for boasting about your children, I expect nothing less from a proud mother." It brought fond memories of her own, Elise had been very close to her mother until an illness had claimed her life but that did not mean she stopped loving her. Feeling her own smile falter slightly as she continued on about being far from home and surrounded by strangers, it was difficult, and she wanted nothing more than to speak with her brother or feel the safety of being within her own palace walls but she couldn't. "I'm adjusting, it's… different getting used to change but so far everyone has been quite welcoming." If you don't count the people that wished my death on the way, then I guess everyone has been somewhat welcoming. Even the King in his own way, well least he did not throw me in a cell and keep me as a prisoner like my father had thought would happen… well hoped so that he had a reason to return to war. Trying to push back her troubling thoughts she took another sip of her wine before placing it down noting she should pace herself; the smell of fish caught her attention as the main course was set down in front of her. Reaching for the cutlery she caught sight of her pale hands making a mental note to try and sleep this evening as she knew she would only come off worse if she didn't. Tucking into the main course she was a little slow to eat due to the worry her stomach would reject it, however she was pleasantly surprised with the taste and how the food seemingly warmed her up easing one of her many worries until a dark thought crossed her mind. Perhaps I will get poisoned, a nice easy way to be killed I guess unless it's not a fast acting poison and causes agony.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Mhmm, well Your Highness, I am glad that you have felt welcomed in our country thus far." Lady Cheldarine's amber eyes glanced over to meet the Princess's for a moment. Despite the inconsequential nature of her words, there was a seriousness to them. Her gaze broke away as a fillet of flaky white fish drizzled in a buttery sauce was set down in front of her. Bowls of steamed tubers and root vegetables accompanied it, along with a series of savoury pastries stuffed with spiced meats. She thanked the servers as they laid them out, waiting for them to leave before continuing. "It is good that you are adjusting, I personally believe change to be a good thing. Though I hope you will soon have us making changes of our own, some are long overdue. This war..." She stopped herself, even though she had spoken softly so as not to be overheard. She glanced at the King, but he did not seem to overhear, still swilling wine and talking battle with Manawyndan, his plate barely touched. "Let me say that I am very glad you are here. Very glad indeed." Lady Cheldarine picked at her food daintily with her fork. She had not broken her composure despite the gravity of her words, and anyone looking from the outside would only read polite sympathy on her face. She ate in silence for a moment, turning away to exchange a word with her elder son who sat next to her. At the far end of the high table, a peel of laughter broke out from the plump curly haired man on the far right. The man seemed to be sparring words with the elderly woman sat on the other side of Manawyndan. The severe looking councillor seemed unimpressed, whilst his young wife expressed amused disbelief at their actions. In the hall at large, spirits were running high, four guards were restraining a pair of men who had exchanged blows at the bottom of one of the tables that ran length ways in the hall. One of the two combatants was dressed in the long robes and scarves of an Ashlander. The soldiers pinned the arms of the unruly guests behind their backs and marched them out of the hall. The fight did not seem to greatly disturb the merriment of others. Ozragad broke away from his conversation with Manawyndan to listen to a whisper into his ear from the female guard captain with the shaved head who had been roving around the hall since the start of the feast. He paused, nodded at whatever she had suggested, and she too marched out of the hall in the wake of the minor brawl. As she passed behind Elise the Formori soldier shot the Princess a venomous look and turned up her nose. The King faced back to his right, and the Lady Cheldarine turned back to Princess Elise once more, an easy smile on her face. "I hope we can become better acquainted in the weeks to come Your Highness, after all, we are to become kin soon enough if all goes as planned. Or did you not know that?" She frowned momentarily again. "I am not sure exactly what is known in Eorzia about our country. The length of the war, the difference in our lifespans, it makes things difficult to comprehend sometimes. I am cousin to King Ozragad, on his father's side, I have known him since I was a girl."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Glancing back at the food that was sat in front of her she had taken a few bites before her stomach started to churn uncomfortably, to her it signalled quit while you're ahead as she knew it wouldn't end well if she kept eating. The food looked magnificent and Elise hoped no one would take offence that she wasn't eating too much. The fish looked stunning with the buttery sauces and it tasted it too as she had a few bites of it but as much as the fish smelled and looked amazing, she knew her limits so placed the cutlery gently to one side on the plate. "Hmm…" Looking up slightly she offered a smile at the idea she had been welcomed in, some people had been nice at least and it looked as if Lady Cheldarine was one of those she would consider nice. Not one of the ones wishing for her death at least. Grabbing the wine once more she sipped at the drink letting the cool liquid calm her as she settled into the chair that was beside the King. Eyes trailed over to Ozragad as he continued to talk with the others a part of her wondered just what was going through his mind over all of this, her fingers tapped against the goblet whilst she considered his thoughts for a moment before returning to the conversation with Lady Cheldarine. "Change can be good." Nodding in agreement as she focused her gaze back to Lady Cheldarine looking away from Ozaragad, though she felt herself frown slightly at the next words. Changes of our own? I wonder what kind of changes she expects I'll be able to make. I doubt the King is easily swayed. This time she glanced at the King once more, watching him for a moment before she shook her head out of her daze. "I am glad, you are the first to express such opinion." It felt uplifting that someone was glad of her arrival, even if Elise herself did not feel it, it was nice to know that another expressed such a view. I wish I could say the same. Although people seemed merry, happy and enjoying the feast she caught sight of the men who had exchanged blows. Now being arrested for whatever fuss they had caused, unable to stop herself from looking she caught sight of the one dressed in long robes and adorned in scarves. A part of her wondered if the fight was just because they were drunk, or if it was something to do with the upcoming peace that had been proposed. Something I doubt I will ever find out. Looking back over the hall of people Elise felt so out of place, she could dress like one of them for sure, but she knew deep down she would never be accepted by them not when so much blood had been shed over the war. Sighing softly to herself looked over at one of the female guards that had spoken to the King, only to be met with a venomous look and upturn of the nose. Feeling the anger stir within her she wanted to fight back, say something but sadly the reasonable part of her mind told her to keep her mouth shut. Instead of returning a look of distaste Elise decided to smile at the female guard in hopes it would only anger them that she seemed unfazed by the unwelcoming look. Sometimes you have to smile like you are unaffected by anyone. "Oh!" Turning back to Lady Cheldarine who had addressed her once more she listened to her words, confusion crossed her face for a moment when she had spoken about being kin. "I'd like that, to become better acquainted." At least I can show some effort in wanting this peace to work. "I… well." Frowning slightly, she looked down at her hands shaking her head, "I hope you don't take offence to this but well… Eorzians they never really thought about teaching your customs as I'm sure that might be said the same here. I guess it is ignorance really." Pondering the thought as she rubbed her arm slightly feeling a chill, "I don't know much of your customs here, lifespans or anything if I'm honest. I was only ever taught the history of my own country." Grimacing slightly as Elise confessed how very little knowledge she had of this country. "Should it be permitted I would love to learn." Returning the smile once more, it wasn't awkward talking with Lady Cheldarine, it was not what she had expected as Elise honestly thought that the feast would be such an awkward encounter for her. "So, you are the King cousin?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Pale fingers had taken hold on a book, the book itself was on the royal family of Morganythian and its lords and ladies. Elise felt it was a good idea to understand the history, the families that all supported their king, but before she could open it or even settled down to the read the door had opened forcing her to look around to see none other than him walking inside. What is he doing here? Surely not looking for me, I hope. However, as Elise began to think on what could have brought the King to the library, she felt her anger rise at his words of greeting. Oh… it's you? Charming, absolutely charming who the hell does he think he is? Its you? I am not some peasant, not a spy to assassinate him. How insulting. There was a fire in her blue orbs as she looked at him, fingers gripping the book so hard in her hand it was trembling slightly. "Apologies, I did not realise I was to stay confined to my room seeing as I am already confined to the palace." Words spoken through gritted teeth as she glanced down at the book in her hands calming herself from the anger, she had felt moments before. I must compose myself; he probably enjoys seeing me react in such a way, relishes in my anger and unhappiness here. Standing tall and proud Elise was dressed in a fine gown that any royal Princess would wear, it had a beautiful black lace trim and sat off of her shoulders, the only catch was that it was black and it contrasted against her pale skin. Black a colour often seen in mourning, but Elise thought it was fitting as she was mourning her freedom, her impending marriage and being bound to a warlord that clearly disliked her as much as she did him. There was nothing they would have in common, but words of Lady Cheldarine came to mind from the feast. He could make a good husband. No, nonsense. He is a king, he doesn't need a romance, we are not destined to have love in this cruel game of power. Looking him up and down she could see he was dressed simply, no armour to show the power he held but there were still weapons sat at his belt just in case something should happen. It was strange to see him like this, it made him look like a normal person not a King with the weight of a country on his shoulders and a distasteful marriage to sort out. Feeling her anger diminish as he stepped in making conversation, she looked at the book in her hands feeling a little embarrassed for her earlier remark and anger at his greeting. Smiling as she looked around the room at the vast number of shelves adorned with books, scrolls and ancient texts she nodded. "It is quite the collection; you must be proud of it. This has to be years, no centuries worth of information at your fingertips." Glancing back to the book that was clasped in her hands she held it up slightly, "I thought I'd start with this, it's only polite to learn about those who graciously host me here. Lady Cheldarine has been wonderful as have my ladies." It was no lie, the ladies although spying on her had been nothing but lovely as well as Lady Cheldarine. Hesitating before she spoke her next words she frowned ever so slightly, a part of her didn't want to ask but then if anyone would know it would be him. Blue eyes downcast as a flash of worry passed through them unsure on how he would react "I don't suppose… you have heard anything from Eorzia?" Tentatively asking as she spoke her home county name, her father had yet to write to her and it had been a week. Even her brother hadn't and a part of her had hoped that maybe he had her letters, perhaps they had to be read before she was able too and at first she had been annoyed at the thought but now she just wished there was something. It was hard not to feel alone whilst here in enemy land not knowing anyone and the idea of her family not writing made her feel as if she had been exiled for them. Sold away like nothing.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad watched as the Princess trembled before him, her white fingers clenched around a leather bound tome she had drawn from the shelves. What was this? Fear or anger? Did it matter either way? Just another manifestation of the rift between their peoples, between their countries, and between them as people. Then she spoke and all became clear, it was anger, of course it would be anger. I should have known that about this Eorzian Princess by now. He felt her eyes linger over him as his own did the same. The black lace dress against her pale skin, it reminded him of the gown she had worn the night of the feast, the one that he pictured her in whenever the Princess crossed his mind. How different it was to the bright and gaudy colours he normally associated with the people across the border. There was something almost sculptural about it, the play between black and white, like marble and basalt. Regal perhaps. Ozragad wondered then what it was that she thought of him... Suddenly she looked away from him, at the book clutched in her hands. She was embarrassed? What by? Had she noticed the way he had been staring at her, looking her over? Perhaps she mistook it for a sign of desire. Ridiculous of course, why should he have any desire for an Eorzian Princess, other than for the sake of his people? She is my enemy, that is I think of her and wonder what she thinks of me, no other reason necessary. He coughed into his hand and broke his own gaze away, walking past her and deeper into the library. When she spoke again and he turned once more to face her. And she was smiling, complimenting him on the great trove of books and scrolls assembled within the palace. The King could swear he that he felt a light flush in his cheeks. Why would that be? He hoped he was not coming down with a fever. "Yes... well.. I cannot take credit for it. This was mostly the work of my mother, and my grandfather before her. I have made few additions." He frowned then, realising that was not strictly true. There was a large collection of Eorzian literature he had plundered from the Royal Library of Novrandt before he had burnt the rest. Perhaps this was not the best time to mention that. The book she held up was one he was familiar with, Ysgollia's Genealogies of the Great Houses, it had been commissioned as a gift to his grandmother when she had wed the House of Gwydion onto the throne of Morganyth. It showed the lineages of all the ancient Formori nobles that still resided east of the Kazadum, and traced the roots of many of them back to the mythic Kingdoms and Queendoms that had once existed where now only Eorzian humans ruled. It would no doubt be something of grim read for her. Wait why should he care? It will just lead to some other fight, some other conflict with her. That is why I care, nothing more. "My cousin has a kind heart. But that is a dry and ponderous tome of history, Ysgollia was a diligent researcher but his prose lacks finesse. I would recommend 'Recollections upon the Queen's Court', less scholarly but a much but more colourful picture of life at court. More recent too..." He stopped. That book had been written near the start of his reign, most of those it mentioned were dead, and it had been written before her grandfather had even been born. "Relatively speaking of course." It was his own turn to feel embarrassed it seemed. How long had it been since he had commissioned a new work to sit in here? Some of his retired generals had set down memoirs of his campaigns that they had generously sent him, but he had not chronicled a single year of his reign, not since the war. Ozragad coughed and turned away again, pretending to examine whatever collection of books and scrolls happened to be in front of him. Which in this case were... the erotic poetry Idras of Iscarion. His face went pale. Thankfully most of it was written in old High Formori. She couldn't read High Formori could she? Wait! Why do I care if she could?! He almost missed what she said, had he heard anything from Eorzia? Of course had heard from Eorzia, he had spies and scouts over the border sending dispatches, as well as envoys riding to and from the capital hammering out the exact terms of the peace treaty, the wedding, the dowry, the alliance that would follow, everything really. Then he saw the downcast look upon her face and realised she did not mean had he heard from Eorzia in that sense. "There are envoys travelling between our two countries regularly now. Lord Chancellor Iria oversees our correspondence, I will no doubt he seeing him later today. I will ask him when I do."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Why does he keep staring at me? Should I say something?... Hesitating to speak she heard his cough as if to break the awkward silence she bit her lip slightly unsure on how to feel. Confusion swept through her seeing him dressed in such manner, no heavy weight holding him down. Nothing screaming regal, well he still held himself in such a manner, but it was strange not have the clothes accompanying it. It still made her feel quite overdressed for their spontaneous meeting in the library and quite self-conscious. He is an enemy, do not forget that. Do not let your guard slip, not once. The compliment on the library seemed to have eased into more of a conversation, her grip on the book loosened as she looked over at the King noting that something seemed different. Was that a flush? Did he just take a compliment? No, don't be silly. This lack of sleep is really catching up with me. I need to fix that. Talking herself out of the idea that he had taken the compliment she focused back on his words to hear about who had started the collection. Blue eyes looked back towards the books as she thought about how his mother and grandfather before her had created this, he had added some, but it sounded as if mainly it had been them. "It's wonderful, books are a great source of knowledge and they say knowledge is power." Smiling as she looked back over at Ozragad realising that she was having more of a conversation with him than they had ever had before. I guess he isn't so bad. Wait… why am I even saying that? Looking back at the book in her hands as he explained how it would not be such a colourful read. Do I care about that? That is nice of him though, to suggest something more tasteful and recent. Staring at the book she turned to the shelf putting it back in its place, taking his suggestion of taking a read of 'Recollections upon the Queen's Court'. "Thank you, I will follow that advise, I will read over that one." It felt strange not having some sort of argument with him, or disagreement for that matter. In a strange way it was nice not to be at odds with him at this moment. Turning to the shelves she looked through the books trying to find the piece he had suggested, there were quite a few titles. Perhaps I should ask? Turning to look back at him she saw him looking over a particular collection, curiosity got the better of her and she could help but ask. "What are you looking at? Is that the book you suggested?" Taking a step towards Ozragad to see if it was the book, sadly she assumed it was not and in fact it was not any language she had seen before. "What language is that?" However, her attention was caught when he had realised what she had said, the fact she had asked about her home Eorzia and she tried not to look downcast over it. To show him that openly she was quite distressed on the fact she had not heard anything, it made her feel quite alone in a country that called for her death. Stop it, don't look so pitiful. That is not who you are. Clearing her throat as she stood tall smiling once more, "Thank you, if there is news will you let me know this evening? If it's no trouble of course. I just… I'll be honest. I'm a little anxious I have yet to hear anything from back home. I just thought that I… I just thought my father would have wanted to say something." A part of her cringed for blurting a little bit of that out, he did not need to know how she felt over it. He didn't even care, but it was hard as she thought that she meant more to her family than not to write. It was hard not to be disappointed over the fact they had not spared a thought for her. "I am free to write to them? If I request supplies that is okay to do?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Deciding it was best not to push the subject of the old poetry Elise watched as he plucked a book above her with ease, a part of her didn't think it was poetry especially with how quickly he had stepped away from it stating it was irrelevant. "Ah… thank you." Feeling herself smile naturally as she took the book from him, but for a moment she felt their fingertips touch in the brief exchange, and it was hard not to blush, not feel her heart skip a beat. It was hard not to feel something when a part of her desired to be loved. Don't be a fool, that is not on the cards for me. Reprimanding herself she glanced down at the thinner book from the last in her hands, the faded coloured cloth and beautiful golden font. Slender fingers tracing the letters upon the book as she took a moment to glance at it, taking a peek at the pages inside as she tried to forget about the touch and how for a brief moment, she had forgotten herself. I am foolish, he probably thinks I'm some stupid girl with feelings. I don't have a desire to be with him, to be loved. No. What had made it worse was that she had rambled about her feelings, shown weakness and given him something he could use to his advantage which was all too clear at his response. The way he had changed, forced a laugh at no doubt her expense made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Trouble you? Yes, because my sole aim of coming here is to trouble you. Get over yourself." Instantly she had become defensive, angered by his words but it was hard to hide the hurt as he continued. Feeling her heart stop it took an additional few seconds for Elise to process what he had said, it was a wave of emotions as she felt her walls crumble. Would they care enough to reply? They have just left me here, sold me off. No communication. Nothing. No. I won't cry, I won't give him satisfaction. He would love it if I broke down like some weak child. The hurt was soon replaced by anger and a frown crept up on her face as she clutched the book in her hands narrowing her eyes at King Ozragad. "THEY gave me to you. That means nothing because I have not given myself to you and I NEVER will." Speaking up firmly as she glared at him, "No one could love you, you're just a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill." Her words were laced with venom as it was clear he had struck a chord with her with his words. Anger coursed through her as she dared to fight back, speak up against him as she couldn't, no wouldn't let him win. "You know what. I don't want to learn about your people. I. Don't. Care." Without even thinking the book in her hands went flying towards him as she threw it with force, the anger clouding her judgement on how stupid throwing a book at him was. Although Elise wasn't finished, the idea that her family didn't care had really affected her and even though it had been something she felt hearing the words from him made it worse. "You might as well keep me as a prisoner or kill me because I will NOT marry you. I refuse." Elise felt her hands tremble as she clenched them into fists, shaking with anger. "I will NEVER marry you."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "No one could love you, you're just a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill." Those words tore deeper into King Ozragad's soul than he could have ever guessed before they had been uttered from the Princess's lips. He did not understand why, such accusations had been levelled at him before by his many foes and enemies, but never had they stung like this. Why did it hurt so? And why was his fury rising forth from the gashes those words left in their wake? Why should he care if she thought him incapable of love? Ozragad knew what the was capable of, more so than this Hydaelyn girl, surely? But still this anger, this agony. That had to be some reason. Surely there had to be some way to make sense of what he was feeling in that moment. And then it spoke inside of him. That quiet mean voice, his war voice, the one that told him how to kill and destroy. And its words filled the king with horror. It's because she reminds you of her. It's because you realise what she says is true. You are a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill. No one could love you... not even her... not if she had seen you as the man you would become. He stood there stock still for a moment. His deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts running freeing in his uncomprehending mind. Ozragad was so preoccupied he almost forgot the Princess was there until she hurled a book at him. It was pure instinct that took over then. His body reacted as his mind reeled in the way it had been trained to, through long practice in the arts of war. The King ripped his dagger from its belt and parried the tome away from his face with an errant swipe. It exploded into a shower of slashed and torn pages. Had he really been expecting happiness when this had all been over? That when he had won his long and bloody war that he would have gone back to being the man before? That he would find love again? Father children of his own? Perhaps... No... Part of him had not expected to survive at all. But he had trod that blood soaked path to its conclusion and still he was here. Ozragad looked down at the knife in his hand and back up to Princess, more words pouring out of her mouth. Words that were the undoing of the plans he had woven. His plans that would have made all the blood, and death, and horror of his war mean something. He knew now that true happiness would forever elude him. But he could still win his war, even if it had made him into a monster. He could still make it all mean something. It had to all mean something. "You will never marry me?" He spoke the words slowly, through gritted teeth. His knuckles whitened around the grip of his blade. If she refused him it was all for nothing. All the strength of his Kingdom spent to gain nought but leagues of wilderness and scorched earth. He could not, would not, allow that to happen. The King lunged at the Princess. Swift as a mountain lion his free hand made to grip her slender neck and use his greater strength and weight to drive her back into the bookcase behind her. She was light in his grasp. He realised then just how easy it would be squeeze shut her throat and throttle her with one hand. "YOU WILL NEVER MARRY ME?!" He roared directly into her face this time, letting specs of spittle fly. "NEVER?!" Ozragad raised the knife to where she would be able to see it. "Then what use are you to me?! If I am bloodthirsty killer, incapable of love, then you should really endeavour to make yourself as useful as possible to me. Because if you are not, then I have no need of you." He would make her go along with his marriage. One way or another.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise could see Ozragad stand there for a moment as if taking in her words, something she instantly regretted saying because it wasn't smart of her to let her emotions take over like she had. It put her in a dangerous position one she wouldn't be able to defend herself in, and she was alone with him, none of her personal guards were near to come to her aid but what could they really do when going against a King? A Warlord no less who had stories of horror told throughout her own Kingdom. Treville of course would stand her ground and protect her, but the others would hesitate unsure on what their position was here, and she couldn't blame them for that at all. It wasn't the smartest move on her side, to provoke someone that could easily overpower her and kill her within moments, and she wouldn't be able to fight back as she was no fighter. Eyes of hers watching the dagger that had easily cut down the book she had hurled his way, a mess of paper on the floor which would just as easily be her own blood if she wasn't careful. Happiness was never going to be on the cards for her, she had lost her freedom to serve this beast in a bid to bring peace and end the bloodshed of the war that had raged for years. When he spoke, she felt her confidence falter, waiver as her gaze fell onto the dagger in his hands. Gripped so tightly she could see the whitening of his knuckles and her own heartbeat quickened as she started to think of some sort of escape. If not now, then certainly in the evening she could try to make a run for it whilst he slept. It seemed silly but to her running away had been a thought that crossed her mind on more than one occasion whilst being here, it was only now did she think it was more feasible with this threat before her. Elise had made up her mind, she would try to make a run for it and just disappear, they could find some other dutiful wife for this Fomori King as she would not be it. Barely enough time to process what happened next her eyes widened in shock as she felt the grip of his hand against her neck, the strength of the hold and the weight of him easily overpowered her and steered her into the bookcase behind her. Wooden shelves crashing into her back and she bit back a sound of pain from the sheer force of what he had done. Knowing tomorrow that her pale skin would be stained by bruises sore from the impact of the wood against her body, but for a split second she had feared for her life. Feared that he would just in fact choke the life out of her and the war would continue on as if she had never existed. Cringing as she heard him roar in her face, questioning her on how she had boldly stated she would never marry him she couldn't help but wince as she felt the anger and rage and soon the knife came into view and she struggled against his hold even though it did nothing. "Never." The whisper left her lips before she could even stop herself, even in the midst of fear she wanted him to know that she would never marry him. It was of no use really, she could deny the marriage all she wanted but her father would never allow it for starters and she honestly had no say when it came to her own fate on things like this. After all she would have always been bartered away to the highest bidder, that was her role in life. "Go on, kill me. You'll only prove to everyone your true intentions and that peace was never an option! I won't marry you; and I certainly won't bare your children so why don't you just end my life?" Elise couldn't say what possessed her to egg him on when she was clearly at a disadvantage with his hands around her throat, she wasn't really thinking straight with the lack of sleep and the constant worry that someone was going to kill her here. She knew she would have to back down to him, she would have to concede, and it left a bad taste in her mouth thinking about it. Had Treville been here she wouldn't have overstepped like she had, the guard knew when she was treading a fine line and would signal to her when she had so it usually meant she could catch herself before things went too far. By now Elise could feel herself tremble in his grasp, fear settling in as she waited for him to hurt her as she had stepped out of line. Her heart hammered away in her chest at the anticipation which was only making her feel anxious, reaching her hand up clasping it around his wrist as she tried to pull him off of her neck so she could at least put distance between them, her back was beginning to ache and she just wanted to go hide away.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn After returning to her room Elise had found that her letters had finally been sent to her and she was sure it had to be some sort of power play, as if he was reminding her that there were people, she cared for back home who he would cut down if she did not obey him. The contents of the letters however did not make her mood any better whilst here and only angered her because it didn't seem like they cared about her welfare whilst here. The first one was from her father who was diplomatic as always, talking about this bringing peace and how she should behave herself and watch that temper of hers. My Dear Elise, I am glad to hear of your safe arrival and I hope that the travel wasn't too taxing on you. Treville is sure to keep an eye on you whilst there, but I do hope you think before you speak as I doubt they would appreciate your temper. Talks are still under way in regard to the wedding, but I doubt it will take much longer as the council are happy with the idea of a peace between the two Kingdoms, so they are trying to push it through quickly. Yeah, but you aren't. You just want the war to continue, you hoped he would take me hostage. Elise thought to herself bitterly as she continued reading sighing to herself as she didn't see anything worthwhile in the letter that he had wrote, other than to remind her of her place it seemed. Your brother continues to entertain the court, countless broken hearts and ruined reputations have followed. Regardless I will uphold my promise to him once your marriage is final. I have sent along more of your things; they should be with you shortly. King Regis Hydaelyn. Brother is whoring himself as per usual then. Elise shook her head as she screwed up the letter from her father tossing it to one side finding no comfort in what he had wrote to her. There wasn't any hint of care and she felt like he had just tossed her aside counting her a loss as if she was something to be owned. That was one major thing she hated when it came to arranged marriages, being born as a woman. In her Kingdom a woman was like owning property, to be moved, sold or bartered off and she had to follow rules, keep her purity whilst her brother just did whatever he wanted and slept his way through the castle. Picking up the other letter she recognised the hand and knew it was brothers, it surprised her that he bothered to write something, but it was nice to see he seemed like he cared but that was dependant on the contents. Opening up the last letter she began to read rolling her eyes as it was just more pointless words talking about the peace and her marriage. Dropping that pile of rubbish back onto the table she moved to the bed to finally get some sleep knowing she was not going to enjoy her upcoming time here. ------------------- Elise had been right in the fact that she would not enjoy her time here, in the few days the bruising had fully fleshed out on her back, causing discomfort as she tried to rest. Nights hadn't been easy as she was plagued by dreams of him, of King Ozragad strangling her and her demise whilst here. It was all she could focus on, her death, the death of those she loved, and she had imagined the cruellest of deaths as that smile of his haunted her of a night. Ozragad had been true to his word in the fact that she had been confined to her rooms and she barely saw anyone except the ladies that served her, she did enjoy the peace at least and by now the marks from her neck had faded. Even though she had been confined to her room she had still heard the rumours that swirled around, apparently people didn't bother being quiet about it, but she figured that was down to most of them wanting her demise here. Elise partly hoped for the idea of him sending her back, but she didn't think it would happen and even he did choose to not marry her she was certain he would rather she was a hostage more than anything. Sighing to herself she was sat at the window jut looking outside not expecting anyone to visit so she hadn't really dressed for the occasion, she was wearing a simple pale pink dress with a grey shawl fabric draped over her shoulders to keep her warm as she sat at the window watching the bustle of people below. Glancing at the door with a frown as someone knocked, she watched only to be met with a visitor that she did not expect. "Lady Cheldarine." Acknowledging the woman as she rose from her position at the window and moved to one of the sofas in front of the fire figuring the woman was here for a reason and wished to discuss something. Taking a seat, she felt her own smile falter as she didn't expect the boldness of the other, calling her out on causing trouble which she had done, but then he wasn't exactly innocent in the matter either. "I… I would not call it trouble myself. I guess we had a disagreement of sorts. It seems we are both quite stubborn." Elise was finding it hard to put to words the situation that had happened.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine followed her host to the cushioned divans that were tastefully arranged around the hearth of the Princess's receiving room in the Silver Tower. She waited for Elise to take a seat before she herself settled down opposite her on the other side of fireplace, neatly gathering her skirts as she did so. The Formori woman listened to the Princess's response with her head cocked to the side. A ghost of smile played across her lips. "Well it certainly seems to have caused yourself some trouble, your Highness. I know my cousin is not an easy man to get along with, he is as you said, stubborn. Perhaps if you told me what happened exactly I could be some assistance in repairing this rift between you? After all, I do know him better than most." At that moment there was a flicker of an idea in the eyes of Lady Cheldarine. She turned to the Formori serving woman who had been discretely attending them from the back of the room and smiled wide at her. "I am however, somewhat parched this morning. Such a long way up to the palace, and so many stairs! Seems silly considering its all still underground, doesn't it? You wouldn't be dear and fetch us some tea would you?" The servant glanced over to Princess Elise as if searching for a counterorder, before bobbing her head obediently and disappearing out of the room. When they were alone Lady Cheldarine turned back to the Princess, holding one finger up. "A moment please." She stood and briskly walked over the door, placing her ear flat against it and listening for a few moments before seeming being satisfied by what she did or did not hear. She then walked over to one of the internal walls of the tower, lined with dark wooden panelling. With one finger she tapped on each of panels, listening as she did so. At the fifth panel she stopped and listened longer more intently than she had at the others, lingering for half a minute. Eventually she was again satisfied by what she heard, it was only then that the Lady turned back to the Princess and returned to her seat by the fire. "Well that makes me feel better, it appears Manawyndan is not currently up to his old tricks. Walls do have ears in this palace I'm afraid. Still, no unwanted eavesdroppers at the moment." She let out her soft husky laugh. "Now tell me, why has my cousin locked you up in here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise felt herself hesitate as Lady Cheldarine caught on, she never expected the woman to take note and realise that her cousin had been a little rough handed with her. Not that it should matter, but Elise didn't what to voice the fact he had been rough with her as she didn't want to appear like some weak little girl. "Wooing me? Please I doubt he would even know how to woo someone nowadays." Sighing softly to herself as she could never imagine this King even start to woo a lady and court them, not that she even wanted it to happen herself. It was strange hosting this woman, she showed no outward signs of wanting to cause her harm which was refreshing but she still found it hard to trust even though Lady Cheldarine was quite easy to talk too. Elise knew she was merely overthinking everything, but it was hard when even her family didn't seem to care too much about her as their letters spoke of the promise to her brother and this wedding. Not one hint of if she was okay. Watching as the other woman reached the window, she found herself furrowing her brow as the question was posed to her, something that had crossed her mind her mind briefly, but it passed by without a second thought. "Well… I had considered it, but I guess I just assumed he was pressured for it by the council." "I'll be brutally honest, my own family and myself included expected this to be a trap and well too good to be true. My father originally threw the offer out to appease the court back home, not for it to be accepted." Leaning forward on her seat as she watched Lady Cheldarine curious to why Ozragad had pursued peace, "Tell me then, why is he pursuing the option of peace? As you say peace doesn't really suit him, not when stories of this fearsome warlord proceeds him."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "It is as I said, he is not as strong as he seems." Lady Cheldarine sighed and let the curtain she had been holding fall back into place. As she turned back towards Princess Elise a shadow pasted over her face. A look of pain, of sorrow. The look of person remembering something they would much rather forget. "This war, it has destroyed almost everything it touches, and that is true of both your county and mine. But Eorzia is larger and richer, and the land here... well you must have seen it on your journey to the capital. Every Formori fighting is another one taken from the fields. Every fighter that falls in battle needs to be replaced." That expression lingered there across her features once again. From the sleeve of her dress, she drew out a small square of white silk and used it to dab the corner of her amber eyes. She did not fully loose her composure, but it was clear enough that something was clearly affecting her. "My own husband... well, it is common enough story for citizens of both our lands." The handkerchief disappeared once more into whatever secret pocket it had been drawn from. That pained look too disappeared, but away into the other secret pocket all people possess, the one in which they hide the contents of their heart. "But the point is that there are fewer and fewer to work the land, and the land was poor to begin with. Three of our last five harvests have been marred by Ashfall. Without a proper harvest this year, Morganyth will starve. If there is peace then the soldiers can home, they can work the fields, they can get the harvest in." On the journey from Eorzia they had indeed past innumerable empty and barren fields, left fallow once they had entered Morganyth territory. There had been fewer signs of this poverty and privation in the palace where Elise had been staying, but the feast she had attend had indeed been meaner than those in Eorzia. There was often a lack of common foods, such as soft fruits or fresh vegetables. Even the portions of the Formori were mostly smaller than those of the Eorzians. "So you see the dilemma that faces the King? He must have peace before the harvest. Either he risks everything, on one last desperate assault against your family and your Kingdom in order to crush you completely before the autumn, or he negotiates. Now my cousin can be a fool at times, but he is not completely reckless." She walked back towards the Princess and seated herself back down upon the cushions there once more. Her face was grave, she was deadly seriously. "He needs you. He needs the lands and the peace your marriage brings in order to rebuild his country, in order to salvage something from this mess of a war. It is either that or risk defeat and ruination on scale he has thus far avoided. I tell you this not for the love of my country or my people or for the sake of my cousin. I tell you this because I need you to make this marriage work too. I need you to save my sons from this war, because it is they who will be fighting it next if this peace does not work." There was now a desperate edge to her voice. "And it may not seem this way to you now, not after what he has done you. But now you are in Morganyth, you need him. You need Ozragad. My cousin can behave like a monster at times. But he is nothing compared to some of the men who once followed him and oppose the peace now. Men like Zakylwe Ahoraa."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise kept herself seated as she began to listen to Lady Cheldarine tell her tale, that this Warlord King Ozragad was not as strong as he seemed. Somehow, she didn't believe that for a second, but then maybe there was more to it than meets the eye. Frowning as she could see the hurt expression on the other womans face as she expressed views on the war. There was no denying this war had destroyed everything for both Kingdoms, Eorzia had seemingly faired better due to its larger land and riches they were able to keep people on the fields and reap the rewards of fresh crops. With their lands being much greener it meant that it didn't need much tending too so when people did drop due to the war it didn't leave too much of a lasting effect. "I'm sorry." It was an automatic response because she sympathised with the loss of the other womans husband. Though she could do nothing to make it right or any better she did like this woman as she had showed nothing but kindness towards her and it didn't feel in any way forced. Thinking back on the journey here there hadn't been much to look at and it was far different from what she expected, barely any sort of greenery and somewhat dark and dreary to most foreigners. Elise was beginning to understand why that was. "It makes sense why he was more interested in gaining land more than the dowry that comes alongside marriage. I did not realise it was quite so bleak here. You'd never be able to tell, he doesn't openly state this. It matters not, as much as I said I wouldn't marry it's not my choice. It is down to my father; my say means nothing back home." Tradition back in Eorzia meant that she would be forced to marry whomever her father deemed fit. "It was simply an empty threat because I can't control my own temper." Shaking her head, she rubbed her arms feeling an odd sense of guilt at her outburst earlier. Now learning much more in the short space of talking with Lady Cheldarine than she had in her whole time here. "I…" Hesitating slightly as she sighed, "I will try to make it work." Admitting more to herself that she would end up marrying this Warlord whether she liked it or not, making it work would be the easier route. "What do you mean once followed him?" Furrowing her brow at the mention of Zakylwe, a name she didn't know but she assumed it was someone who had been important in this Kingdom. "Is it because of the peace? Surely, they can see what this war has done? That it's the best option whether short term or long term." A part of her didn't really expect their marriage to last, deep down she did fear he would have her killed off and pass it off as natural causes. It was probably her overreacting of course as she liked to think of worst case scenarios, leaning towards the negative rather than the positive.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise fell quiet again as she listened intently to what Laldy Cheldarine was telling her. This Zawylwe sounded like quite a dangerous person as she let her speak eager to learn about this country and its people even if they were out to harm her. "Sounds more like a beast than a man." Unable to stop the words that left her mouth, eyes widened as she placed her hand over them embarrassed that she had allowed herself to speak before she had even thought it through. "Sorry… I really must learn to think before I speak. Not my strong point." Looking over to the door as she watched the other glance to it, she frowned knowing time must be running short, but she still had so many questions to ask and who knew when she would get a chance to speak with Lady Cheldarine in private again. The words left an uncomfortable silence as it was revealed just how much danger she would be in if this failed, her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she could not help the dark thoughts cross it as she thought gravely on what they might do to someone like her. It sent a shiver down her spine and she could say she was honestly fearful for what could happen to her here. It had been a surprise at first knowing this had not been a trap, after all most had assured her, she was being sent to her own death, but now the threat felt more real. "R-Right… no, of course. Just hypothetical." Forcing a smile as she tried to pull herself away from the dark thoughts that had entered her mind. Nodding as the woman said it wouldn't come to that, perhaps it wouldn't and Ozragad would keep her safe especially if he was bound by the marriage treaty. It did guarantee her safety if she went through with it, if ill will happened on her death the war would continue, and nothing would change just a broken treaty to add to the reasons of their war. "What?" Elise couldn't stop the shock on her features, she never knew about the first wife and that alone sprung so many more questions. "Brother-in-law..." Hesitating as she looked at the door herself before snapping her head back to Lady Cheldarine, "What happened to her?" She had to know, not just because of her burning curiosity but for the fact it would probably help in her own survival here. If Lady Cheldarine wouldn't tell her would she even dare to ask King Ozragad? After a few of there interactions she knew how easily she could put her foot in it and asking about a first wife who she could assume was dead as she hadn't seen or heard of the woman before would certainly earn her more discomfort here.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth A clear look of dawning realisation appeared upon the heart shaped face of Lady Cheldarine. Her hand rose up to cover her mouth as if to prevent the words she had just spoken, amber beaded bangles catching the light of the fire as she did so. But it was too late, the unspoken, deeply buried secret that lingered over the court of Cirith Anyr had been resurrected. Brought back to life by a careless word. "Oh... of course. You would know nothing of her. It was so long ago, before the war even. Her name was Liveuta. She died." There was a sudden crack from one of the burning logs in the hearth that spat sparks into the air. Lady Cheldarine jumped in her seat, eyes casting around the room as if looking for someone. But they were still alone. The serving woman had not yet returned. She took a closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am sorry, I should not have brought her up and you should not either. Especially not to the King. He forbade anyone of speaking her name in his presence many years ago. It is a particularly sore subject for him, when the Queen died she-" The door swung open and instantly Lady Cheldarine switched the subject to something completely different, an inane conversation about which young women at the court she approved of and could make potential matches for her son Elethiomel, and which she had reservations about. The serving woman brought the herbal tea to the table they sat at and it was poured and served to them along with selection of sweetmeats. The serving women returned to her place sitting unobtrusively at the back of the room. They continued to talk for some time, but never about what they had spoken of alone.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn It seemed that Lady Cheldarine had spoken more than she intended as Elise caught the look upon her face and the covering of the mouth with her hand as if it would take back what had already been spilled. Elise was burning to know about this first wife, what had happened other than that she had died. Leaning forward as she pushed for more, listening intently as Lady Cheldarine was so close to telling her until it was ruined by the serving woman. Typical. Elise thought bitterly as she settled back into the chair nodding along to Lady Cheldarines words. "Yes. I understand what you are saying. I wish I could have more input, but I'm still learning and meeting all these people myself." Elise slipped into the other conversation smoothly, it hadn't been the first time she had to do something like this as that was often the case when in court. Conversations changed at the drop of a hat to hide anything they could have been discussing before. "I'm sure you will choose a great match for your son. I know you're rather proud of him." Elise smiled as she picked up one of the cups to enjoy the warm herbal tea, after all they had requested for the tea, so she didn't want to ignore it and look suspicious. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach me sometime. You have a wealth of knowledge about your home here, I'd love to learn it myself, embrace the culture so maybe one day people can be proud of me." Eyes flicked to her cup of tea as she blew off the steam from the top before taking a sip of the hot liquid, finding that as it ran down her throat it warmed her greatly. Elise hadn't realised how cold she found herself to be lately, but the lack of sleep didn't aid with that fact. Just chatting idly Elise continued to sip her tea happy that she had acted quite naturally when the serving woman had arrived back, "Thank you Lady Cheldarine, for the visit. It's most appreciated." There was no hint of a lie in her voice as she was grateful to see the woman, she had been alone for quite a few days with no visitors and this had been a nice change of pace to her day. Even if it had been unexpected as she would not have been surprised if Ozragad left her to rot here, but the conversation had her thinking on just how important the peace was to that warlord. Now with new information it was becoming difficult to know what the right option was anymore, should she just marry him? Let there be peace among the kingdoms as her happiness compared to thousands was just a small price to pay for that. Just because she was bound to him didn't mean she had to be with him every day, she was sure she'd be allowed to o her own thing. When it was safe. Flashes of her arrival passed through her mind remembering just how much unrest to his people this was causing, there were people out here would kill her within a heartbeat.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Boys can be so difficult though, especially at his age. Trying to be a man, while still thinking and feeling very much like child. I want someone who will be a good influence. Steadying, perhaps." Lady Cheldarine sighed and sipped at the cup of herbal tea in her hands. She sat back and leaned into the cushioned divan as the Princess spoke of learning about Morganyth and Formori culture. She smiled at the Princess's compliments, with almost a hint of smugness. "Well in the case, we must set a date for you to visit my estate in the city, your Highness. Once all this silly confinement has passed." She gave the Princess a smile at that and a roll of the eyes that went unobserved by their eavesdropper. "Although I assure you, there are many in this Kingdom who are already proud of you, myself foremost among them." The polite and inconsequential conversation between Lady Cheldarine and Princess Elise persisted for sometime after the return of the serving woman. They drank tea, nibbled at biscuits, and made pretence of ladies at leisure for all there to see. But it did not last indefinitely. Eventually there came another knock at the door of the Princess's chambers in the Silver Tower. One of the Princess's guardsmen entered into the sitting room and announced that the Lord Steward, Manawyndan, also sought an audience with Princess Elise. "Ah, it appears the good Lord Steward has gotten word of my impromptu visit, and so quickly too. I do so wonder how?" As she finished speaking with a tone of mock incredulity she gave a throaty laugh and looked directly at the woman sat in the back of the room. "I suppose I had best be on my way then, it would be dreadfully impolite of me to keep the poor old man waiting too long."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was quite content spending her time with Lady Cheldarine, sipping away at the tea and even eating a few biscuits here and there. She had a lot to think about when it came to her engagement with the Warlord, perhaps it was even time to apologise for the behaviour of hers the other day. The stubborn side of her didn't want to be the one to cave first, especially when he had his hands around her throat, she didn't want to appear weak by crawling back with an apology. Pride, however, would not keep her alive so she knew she may have to make that step. "Oh, stop it, you are probably the only one who thinks as much." Elise chuckled to herself finishing off her tea as she placed it back on the table in front of her. If she was honest, she was even surprised that Lady Cheldarine was proud of her, part of her doubted the words but it was nice to hear. Especially when she didn't even have her own ladies of waiting to gossip or discuss with. It had become rather lonesome here, but she wasn't here for herself after all as it was all for the people to stop anymore bloodshed. It seemed though her visit was cut short when there was a knock at the door, looking up as she wondered who else wanted to visit? Elise hadn't expected the visit from Lady Cheldarine let alone anyone else and if she had known she would have worn some more fitting than her pink dress and grey shawl. "My aren't I popular today?" Musing over the idea as she leaned back in the chair of her wondering what had brought all these visits on. "Thank you for the visit, I hope to be able to visit your own estate soon." Offering a soft smile to the other woman whilst subtly hinting to her that she had listened carefully to what they had spoken about and had plans to fix it. Giving a small wave to her guardsmen to signal letting the Manawyndan inside she was curious to know why he was here. After all she hadn't really spoken much with this Lord, but there had to be a reason why he was visiting her whilst she had been confined to her rooms. Sighing softly to herself she sat upright placing a polite smile on her face ready to great him, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but watch the exchange, eyes looking from the pair and she could tell with the undertones there was some sort of fight for power between them. It was like being back at home in her own court watching as others tried to gain some sort of upper hand over the over, little jibes and comments that to any onlooker would seem pleasant when there was a darker truth beneath them. Remembering how her brother would often tell her that keeping up appearances meant everything, that you should never divulge your true thoughts or feelings unless absolutely necessary. Not that I followed that when speaking with Lady Cheldarine earlier, but I didn't sense any danger. Unless I am truly being played whilst here. Frowning ever so slightly at her own thoughts as she continued to listen on. This impromptu visit happened whilst both he and the King were busy, she didn't want them to know she was here? Or that I am being spied upon whilst here as the talk was brisk. I still have many unanswered questions. Realising she had been frowning she placed her polite pleasant smile back on her face before anyone could notice, it seemed that both Manawyndan and Cheldarine were too busy butting heads so to speak. "Farewell Lady Cheldarine." Smiling as she began to bid the other a goodbye only to find herself caught by Manawydan once more as he didn't let the Formori woman win their little battle. What the elder man had said had clearly struck a chord with Cheldarine and even she had picked up on what she felt to be a quite threatening undertone aiming it towards the eldest son of hers. Elise knew that this woman was proud of her sons, she spoke so highly of them and she had remembered the proud tone of the woman at the feast a good few nights ago as they had spoke with one another. Sympathising with Lady Cheldarine she felt like she should say something, reassure the woman but it wouldn't help any sort of matter. That and being as she held no power here, she kept her mouth shut knowing that it was best to let Lady Cheldarine fight her own battles, the woman was well versed with things like court and Elise knew she would probably just make matters worse rather than help it. Nodding with a soft smile as Lady Cheldarine finally excused herself once more, she turned to Manawydan who had relaxed now the woman was gone, curious as to why he felt so tense around the Formori she knew it was best not to ask such a thing. Again, she found herself frowning when he began to have a small coughing fit, sitting forward she motioned for the server who was still hanging around in the background. "Would you kindly fetch us more tea? Perhaps some water for Lord Manawyndan." Glancing towards the Lord who had come to visit her just after her visit from Lady Cheldarine. "Of course, take a seat." Gesturing to the sofa before she folded her arms across her chest watching him carefully, wondering what had spurred his visit. "I daresay I was not expecting a visit from yourself, but it is welcomed." Knowing deep down there had to be some motive behind it, maybe he had only visited to shoo Cheldarine away. Perhaps he didn't want them talking with one another too much, but then she could just be overthinking things. It was hard not too when surrounded by a foreign place. "What do I owe this pleasure?" Elise kept her guard up around him, there was something she didn't quite like and she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "You are too kind, your Highness." The old lord said as he seated himself opposite the Princess and a fresh cup of tea was poured for him upon the table between them. He returned her own watchful gaze as the refreshments were reset. Apart from a very brief conversation the night of the Princess's arrival to the city, they had not really spoken to one another before. Manawyndan had been seating on the other side of the King at the feast, and there had been few courtly events or functions in the times since. Perhaps they both had some reason to be wary of each other. It was partly Manawyndan's machinations that had brought the Princess to Morganyth, but he had yet to gauge her character, and now he found other actors potentially trying to use her to their own ends. "It has been a morning for unexpected visits then. Did you discuss anything of import with Lady Cheldarine?" He took a sip of the tea that had been poured for him, the delicate cup sitting incongruously in his gnarled and callused hands. When he returned the cup to its saucer, the smile that parted his lips was pleasant enough, but his dark bronze eyes did not match it. "I will be plain with you, Princess Elise. You have had time to... reconsider... certain decisions you made in regards to your upcoming marriage to the King. My purpose in coming here today is to see if you have come to a more... reasonable... position?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise just flashed Manawydan a polite smile at his compliment of her being too kind, she was sure he was just being polite with her as she had ordered new refreshments for them both. Leaning forward she picked up her own cup of tea to hold it in her hands so she could enjoy the warmth more than anything. Manawydan had to be here with an agenda after all and she just had a feeling it had to do with Ozragad, that's why everyone had visited her so far this evening. "Quite, if I'd have known I would have dressed up." Elise spoke simply as she swept her gaze across the room before falling back on the Lord, "Oh you know, just idle gossip. Lady Cheldarine was telling me all about her sons, the idea of setting them up marriages." Waving it off as if they had just spent the day chatting like most of the ladies in court would. "I think she was just being kind seeing as I have not been able to engage in much conversation over here and I showed interest when speaking with her at the feast the other day." Giving away no hint that they would have discussed anything else, after all she did not personally trust this man and she feared she could get the woman into more trouble when she had been trying to help her. Elise could see the smile that didn't reach his lips, but she wouldn't slip up not whilst here within enemy walls. Lifting the cup to her lips she took a sip of the tea watching him over the rim of her cup as he approached the reason why he was here. Tapping her finger against the cup she let the words sit for a moment before she rested it back on her lap, she knew she shouldn't be surprised to find out that Manawydan knew of her and King Ozragads disagreement. This Lord had to be a part of the council and perhaps Ozragad was already coming up with plans to kill her off and be done with it after her refusal to marry him. "I have had plenty of time to consider my options. Yes." Making it sound like it had been her decision, it hadn't but regardless she found it that it irked her that he assumed she had come to a reasonable position. King Ozragad practically had her life in his hands, for a moment she had thought he would just strangle her to death, but no she had to be the reasonable one. "I must have been feeling quite under the weather at the time, homesick perhaps." Elise picked her words carefully, that she had been unwell and that was why she had denied marrying the warlord. "Certain decisions should have not been made in that state. I was looking to seek an audience with him to discuss it."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise knew she had to keep her wits about her when it came to this councillor, the way he had shut Lady Cheldarine down had struck a chord with her and she had a feeling that he had a lot more in this plan than met the eye. Perhaps she was just being far too suspicious of everyone around her, but that wasn't a bad thing when she was practically surrounded by wolves who could kill her in a heartbeat. "That is… wonderful." Trying to keep her smile in place as he said how the King would be receptive to that idea, or perhaps he was just waiting for another moment to wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life out of her. Unable to tell if Manawyndan was truly happy about the decision she watched the smile and it looked honest enough, no ill will behind it. "O-Oh." Caught off guard by the fact he was willing to go now, she hadn't expected it but maybe it was best to go bury the hatchet whilst he was on agreeable terms as the Lord had said. Even though he had offered her to take time to prepare she didn't feel like it was an option as already it looked like he was ready to go, eager to fix their fight. "No need." Waving it down as she came to her decision that it was best to resolve it now, as much as she would have loved to have been dressed to the nines it didn't feel all that important. "If we are to be married, he will see me in casual attire, so I will not change for the audience with him." Leaning forward as she placed her cup back on the table knowing the server would clean it up whilst they were gone. Rising to her feet she brushed the simple pale pink dress down as she kept the grey shawl wrapped round her shoulders debating on if she should take it. Considering the options, she felt it was better to take it, she could hide her hands beneath the fabric, and he would not be able to see her fiddling with the shawl. Plus, it would keep the cool air at bay, something that she had started to feel more lately which she put down to lack of sleeping. "Of course, if it's no bother I take it you would like to leave now?" Giving him a smile, she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of it being a private audience with a few trusted councillors. Whether it was for her benefit or not she hated the idea that she would have to back down in front of others when she really didn't want too, but on another hand perhaps them being there would make him think twice about strangling her. The marks had faded, but when caught in the right light could be seen to those who were looking for them, after all Lady Cheldarine had caught on to them so easily but Elise knew she had subconsciously touched her neck there giving it attention. "Are you certain he will not mind a visit now? Without any sort of warning?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "That would indeed be my preference, Your Highness. His Majesty devotes his mornings to dealing with matters of state. And this is a matter of state, is it not?" The old Formori phrased the statement like it was a question, a single brow raising slightly as he did so. "After all, this is not some ordinary lovers quarrel, Your Highness." As he spoke, Manawyndan's eyes lingered over the Princess's neck as she subconsciously stroked the marks from Ozragad's attack in library that had only occurred a few days earlier. He quickly averted them, and awkwardly coughed into his hand to try and disguise the movement. The very sight of them seemed to be something of an embarrassment to him. If you wish, you maybe bring any number of your guard with you, to ensure your... physical wellbeing. It shan't be necessary, I assure you, but if it would make you feel more... comfortable... then, please. And please, Your Highness, forgive my earlier choice of words, it was to my intent to offend." Carefully, the old man got to his feet and gave a slight bow to the Princess. "I will await you outside your chambers." He left the Princess's sitting room, quietly sighing as he went. --- Across the palace, in the chamber in which his council met, King Ozragad was seated at the head of long polished table of dark wood. One wall was dominated by a series of high narrow windows that looked down on the city below. Opposite them, on the other side of the hall was a series statues stood upon plinths and set back in niches, all carved in the likeness of dead Formori Kings and Queens. The King sat alone, save for the statues. The council dismissed for the morning in order to work on their own tasks while Ozragad continued to pour over the drafts of new documents, laws, and decrees they had been formulating. It was another part of the process of peace. How would Eorzia and Morganyth trade now they were no longer at war? What exports and imports would be subject to additional tariffs and taxes, which would be exempt from said duties. It was tedious. But it was necessary. It certainly seemed easier to take it all by the sword. Frankly more exciting too. But no, that was all done with now. Well... for now. His councillors had impressed upon him that good trading relations with their neighbour would be one of the quickest ways to ensure his treasure was refilled and his people well fed. So swallow his pride he must, and write laws for Eorzian merchants. And it could all still be for nothing... Ozragad set his quill down and rested his head in his hands, his elbows sitting atop the stacked parchments below. It was true, it could come to nothing. There was still no guarantee that the Eorzian Princess would have given into his threating demands. What would do then? Launch a war he knew he most likely couldn't win or reveal it was all bluff and beg for her forgiveness? The forgiveness of a child a fraction of his age, a child descended from those who had been the destroyers of his people. Gods, what a cruel joke. No, he had to trust that she was just making a show of resisting him. Still at the time it hadn't felt like she had just been putting on an act, that anger, staring death in the face. Manawyndan had been furious when Ozragad had told him what he had done. Rightly so perhaps, it had been nothing more than pride, anger, and spite that had begun that quarrel. And how had he decided to resolve it? Through threats of violence and butchery. Not an auspicious beginning to a peaceful marriage and a peaceful age. Is this really the sort of man you are? Manawyndan and some of his other councillors had been trying to talk him into making conciliatory gestures for half the morning. He had resisted their calls thus far, but for how long? There was a timetable to this betrothal, and the longer this went on the sooner word would get back to Eorzia that all was not going well. In the end he had met them half way, he would send Manawyndan in his stead, that way it wouldn't seem as if he was wavering... at least, he hoped it wouldn't. As the King mulled all of these problems over, he was surprised by the sound of someone knocking at the door to the council chamber. He wasn't expecting anyone until the afternoon when the servants would lay out a light repast before he took petitions in the throne room. "Enter." Ozragad commanded.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was soon learning just how invested Manawyndan seemed to be in her marriage to Ozragad with the fact he had referred this matter as something of state. "I suppose not." It was easier agreeing with him, it was no ordinary lovers quarrel as for one they weren't even lovers and she doubted she could even consider that term in the future. Not when every time she closed her eyes, she could see the image of his hands wrapped around her throat and deep down she feared it would happen again. This truly was a matter of state, a marriage to stop a war and bring prosperity to both Kingdoms, to even think love would be involved was naive. Without realising she found her eyes narrowing towards him, bring guards to ensure her physical wellbeing? The very thought angered her making her feel sick at the idea she would even need guards to make sure he didn't lay his hands on her. Taking a moment to compose herself she stopped herself from making a comment and nodded as he left to wait for her to follow along. It wasn't that she would need them, but more that if it would make her feel comfortable then she could bring them and she was thankful she didn't speak too soon on that matter. Taking guards would not be needed, she would not surround herself like she needed to be protected. I do not need their protection from a brute. Elise thought to herself as she took one last sweeping glance of her room before taking her steps outside to follow Manawyndan to finally talk with the King. Offering a forced smile to the Lord she closed the door gently behind her and followed him in silence whilst she let herself think about the upcoming meeting. Building herself up to apologise she hated the idea already; she didn't feel she did anything wrong. It was he who had pushed her to snap with his comments, maybe she had overreacted but at the end of the day he had started it and finished it when being violent towards her. Still… I should remember Lady Cheldarines words. I'll have to apologise he probably doesn't think he did anything wrong. Walking through the castle with the Lord she took in the sights, it had been a few days since she had left her rooms that she had been forcibly confined too and it felt great to be out of them. A fleeting feeling of freedom. Regardless of the fact she had been confined she still walked with her head held high, she would not let anyone see anything but confidence from her even if it wasn't a true reflection on her feelings inside. There was a hint of doubt that maybe Ozragad would not marry her and just have her killed instead like the rumours foretold. It was still option, even if Lady Cheldarine had spoken otherwise in regard to this Kingdoms state it could still happen. He needs me, I have to remember that. I won't be some inferior woman that he can choose to beat around if he so pleases. As they came to the doors, she heard the knock before his voice called out for them to enter, at the sound of his voice she could feel her stomach churn hesitant to walk inside at first as the memory of what happened in the library was still fresh in her mind. Taking in a deep breath she pushed the thoughts down before she moved inside as the doors were opened for her acting as if nothing had happened between them. It was the first time she had stepped foot in this chamber, but before she could take a look at her surroundings, she bowed respectfully to the King still remembering her manners even if she wanted to disregard them and snub him hoping he did not catch the flicker of fear passing through her eyes. "Good morning your highness, is now a good time to talk?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Of all the people in the palace, she had whom Ozragad had least expected to appear through the double doors of the council chamber. The King's golden eyes widened in surprise. He had given specific orders confine her to her to her rooms had he not? How had she come to be here? Had she escaped? No, someone must have countermanded his orders, but who? It did not take long for the culprit to reveal himself. Manawyndan stepped out of the shadows beyond the doorway and positioned himself at the far end of the hall, behind the Princess. The King's face grew grave, set with a frown. He felt his mouth opening, a harsh rebuke forming on his lips for both the Princess and his Steward for defying his orders. He had sent Manawyndan with the attention of avoiding this exact situation. How dare he spring a trap upon me like this! But, no. He stilled his tongue, straightened his expression. He would have words with Manawyndan later, once the Princess was safely out of earshot. He let her bow. She was being polite, deferential even. That was another surprise. He had been expecting more fire, more anger. Had it worked? Had he scared her into submission? Or had Manawyndan coerced her into cooperating somehow? He glanced down at his hand, the one that had wrapped around her throat so easily only a few days before. It was clenched so tightly. He let it loosen, and raised it, bidding her up from her supplication. If she had seen reason, then was no need for any further... cruelty. "I... I had not expected to see you so soon, Princess." Ozragad glanced at his Steward as he spoke, but his eyes quickly flicked back to settle on the Princess. "But this is as good a time as any other. Sit." He gestured towards the seat at the opposite end of the long table.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise could see the surprise at her visit, and she felt an odd sense of satisfaction knowing that he had not expected her. Apparently, it didn't seem like he even wanted her visit as she caught the frown upon his face, she waited for him to spit something out spitefully, but she was surprised to see that didn't happen. Watching the brief exchange, she was certain that he was unaware of her visit and this was Manawyndan orchestrating this so perhaps she could do something a little more daring than she had originally intended. After all Elise was not planning to just bend to his whims, he had been the one to cause the damage between them. "Thank you." Speaking curtly as she took a seat trying not to hear it as an order because she hated the idea of being ordered around by him like some inferior being. Folding her hands neatly on the table she met his gaze holding it for a minute letting the silence fall between them for a moment before she finally broke it speaking up. "I'll be frank, our last interaction didn't go the way I had expected and I'm sure you can agree with that." Tapping her fingers against the wood it was as clear as day to see she was still the same stubborn woman from before, but this time she had more information to play with. "I have had time to consider my own options, what would be best and perhaps I had been a little hasty with my words. I know I'm quite defensive when backed into a corner." Flicking her gaze up back to him the fire in her eyes could be seen as she spoke, confident as always even if she had to hide the bubbling fear that he would wrap his hands around her throat once again. Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms to stop herself from tapping, the fiddling did provide a good distraction, but she needed to be focused right now and not appear to be some weak child in his eyes. I can do this; he should apologise to me after all. I would not have refused to marry if he hadn't been a brute. For that matter he laid hands on me. "I'll marry you, but on one condition." Taking a moment with her pause of words she watched him letting her sentence settle for a moment, that she was willing to marry on one condition. After all Elise was not about to let herself get walked on whilst here, her offer would be more than fair in her eyes, but she did doubt if he would actually agree to it. "You have to apologise to me, for what you did in that room and it has to be sincere. If I feel it's sincere then we can resume as normal."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but finding herself watch Ozragad before her, though she tried to stop herself from fidgeting it was becoming difficult when she didn't truly feel comfortable in his presence. Whether that was because of the act of violence or the fact she knew how trapped she felt she couldn't quite say, but she knew she had found herself rather worried that when married he would do something like that again. No. If I hold me tongue then surely there would be no reason to cause harm? It was not entirely his fault when I boasted such a threat to him. I did not know the severity of his position, the fact it now relies on what he must think a mere child must infuriate him. Elise found herself caught up in her thoughts for a moment until she heard him call out silence, narrowing her eyes as she glanced at him wondering why he would call for such a thing when no one had uttered a single word after her declaration of wanting an apology. Holding her breath, she wondered if he was insulted by her request and that maybe she had just made things a whole lot worse for herself. Not again, he would not hurt me in front of his council, right? Manawyndan does like to meddle, what if? Throwing her gaze over to the elder man who had spoken up suggesting time between them, that he could consider apologising without her presence. For a moment she thought it would be best herself and she couldn't deny that making a swift exit seemed appropriate especially as he did not expect to see her in this room defying his orders of confinement. I must be making such a fool of myself; I should not have listened to anyone but my own judgement. Chastising herself over how she had allowed herself to get so caught up in Lady Cheldarines words and on top of that the rather sneaky Manawyndan. Everyone seemed so caught up in her life, her decisions and she knew she was getting agitated over it. What does it even matter, freedom will never be an option for myself? This is my life, doomed forever more. I should look to make the most of it at least. Finding herself drawn back to Ozragad at his declaration of having made a final decision about her request, well demand. Sitting up straight she met his gaze only to find herself falter under it, seeing the spark in his eyes as she watched expecting him to return to his own seat. Only to find that instead he had begun approaching her and she felt her body stiffen as he came closer, tense at the idea of him being close. Hearing the low husky tone from him she removed her hands from the table placing them in her lap fiddling with her fingers out of sight because she was restless. Swallowing hard she tried to keep composure, but she didn't know where this was going and she kept looking ahead of her even though she knew he was right behind her, his hands resting either side of the chair. Feeling her heartbeat quicken she tried to brace herself from some sort of attack from him, he stood by his words and she wondered if she should have stood by hers in refusing to marry him. Various emotions ran through her as she tried to keep a straight face not wanting to give him any signs of fear, but the emotion was clear as day in her eyes. "I…" Hesitating for a moment as he moved from behind her to her side, she felt strange, he was extending the olive branch so to speak and as much as she had demanded the apology, she wasn't sure if she had expected to receive one. A sincere one at that. Kneeling beside her only meant they were at the same height level and she had never really looked at him close up before. There was an odd sense of beauty to him, the way he held himself he was no boy playing war. This was well and truly a man, a beautiful one, one that could be fearful, but he had apologised to her. Elise felt her features soften as she looked at him taking in the words, she didn't care about him not apologising for his words because all she had wanted was an apology for the violence. "Thank you." Her voice was but a whisper because it had caught her off guard, but none the less she felt a sense of calm within her from the apology. Not sure what she was entirely doing her hand reached out from under the table as she took hold of his gently, keeping him there at her height level for a moment longer. "I would also like to apologise. To you. I did not help that conflict between us. I hope we can start anew today. Maybe even look to make preparations for our wedding?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad had not realised how close they were until she had reached out and took his hand in hers. Almost on instinct he began to pull away, but as her fingertips brushed his own he stopped himself. He could feel the difference between them, her soft smooth skin against his own, rough with scars and callouses. Why did she take his hand so? She had called him bloodthirsty warlord but a few days before. Could she not feel the blood that dripped from them still? They were so close that he could breathe in the scent of her. He wondered then, what perfumes and oils did they used in Eorzia? What fragrances did she bathe herself in this morning before she came here? If he pressed his lips to that small, delicate, white hand that held his, what would it taste of? He pulled his gaze up and away from that hand and found that she was looking back at him. There was something in her eyes, a look he had not seen there before. He had seen her anger and her fear, they were emotions he had learned to gauge in those azure pools, fish them up for their depths. But whatever she felt now, it was not fear, it was not anger. It was something else. It made him feel strange, it made it feel afraid, and he did not know why. Get a grip of yourself. You are a King, do not be unmanned by the mere touch of a woman. With hesitance Ozragad pulled his hand away from her and rose from kneeling to stand again. He stilled his face, calmed his nerves, set his walls about him once more. Stiffly, he strode back to his seat at the opposite end of the table. "A new start?" He rolled the words around his mouth slowly, considering them. "Perhaps this would be for the best. As for the wedding, we have largely left the planning of the ceremony with your Father's council. The ceremony is to held in Eoriza, once the final treaty has been devised." "If I may intrude, sire." Manawyndan began to move from his position at the rear to the hall to approach the table. "There are perhaps some Formori customs that could be seen to here before the wedding itself? We did not discuss such things at council today considering the erm... circumstances, but they could some way to familiarise our people with their Queen-to-be." The Lord Steward stood behind a chair equidistance between his King and the Princess. He appealed to Ozragad for permission to join them. The King gave it with a wave of his hand and the old man cautiously took a seat, his dark flinty eyes darting back and forth between the two royal persons at either end. "Perhaps there are some Eorzian traditions that could be preformed here too, before we leave for Novrandt? It could help the court... prepare... for the ceremonies in Eorzia. Assuming of course, both of your Royal Highnesses assent?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn With distance between them again Elise watched the warlord with her eyes just taking in his body language, she was certain there would be no more violence at least for today. The warmth of his hand still radiated from her own and even though he had pulled back she could still feel the touch lingering and for a brief moment she wondered how gentle those hands could be. Especially as she had experienced the rougher side of him already. Could he even be gentle? Hesitant to think on it any longer she glanced over as he returned to his seat and she was quite glad of the fact that she had left her room even if it had been against his orders. It meant they had gotten their conflict resolved even if her pride was slightly bruised for having to approach him. At least she had gotten an apology out of it, one that she honestly didn't think she would get. "How long do you expect for the final treaty to be drawn?" It wasn't surprising the planning had been left to her father's council, the Eorzians loved to plan a big event and a huge wedding was no different. Any excuse to gather people around and show off their wealth, their ability to appease most in court and act as if they weren't in any sort of war was mesmerising in its own way. It was kind of relaxing to know the ceremony would be held in her hometown land, not that she could be calling it home for much longer not when this was soon to be where she'd spend her days for eternity. Looking up as Manawyndan joined in the conversation offering his own opinions she raised her brow at the idea, wedding traditions was something she had been taught about from a young age. Eorzia loved its traditions, upholding them and parading about the women like they were some prize to be captured. Making them perform like animals being watched by onlookers who were sizing them up. Shaking her head in amusement as she remembered one of its favoured traditions, she looked towards the two men before her and smiled. Never had she had to take part in the bridal hunt even when it came to other people's weddings as it was just improper to have the Princess roaming about the forest full of men. Wondering on if her father would insist upon the tradition, she kept that piece of information to herself thinking that her father would probably not bother with it. "I think it's quite a favourable idea, it would certainly allow for more opportunities to get to know one another as well as the people around. If it is agreeable with yourself, I would be happy to oblige." Elise stated simply as she folded her arms, wedding traditions couldn't hurt there was an Eorzian custom she could uphold hopefully when in her own Kingdom. "Eorzian culture has a few traditions one of them being customary for the bride to showcase a talent. To present herself to her husband with a skill she can bring to the table. If that is something that interests you I can prepare myself for it." Hopefully I don't make a fool of myself, I wonder what kind of traditions the Formori uphold when it comes to this.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise had caught sight of the fact his hand had reached for his sword, but she was glad he realised she was not going to cause him harm and that she wasn't a threat to him. Firstly, it was absurd to think she would just outright attack him like that, secondly, he could easily overpower her being a warrior from the war and thirdly, well they had just come to an agreement had they not? Her eyes still focused on the glass, now a flicker of doubt seeping through in case she had been wrong and maybe she had seen nothing. Maybe it was simply just a hope of hers that it was poison and maybe now she had just made a complete an utter fool of herself in front of him and his council. It could have been her subconscious trying to find ways to stop this wedding that she had just now agreed too. It took all her effort to conceal her tremble, the fear that the rage of his was about to be directed to her and without nothing her hand went to her throat still feeling his lingering fingertips against the skin that had recently healed from their spat. Though as the guards burst through the door's swords in hand her own hand dropped back to her side keeping silent as Ozragad began to bark orders to everyone. Wasting no time, the soldiers followed his orders scurrying off and she glanced towards Manwyndan as he spoke hearing the snap of Ozragads as he begged a private word which meant out of her earshot. What does it matter, they attacked the King. There was no way they could know I was here. Although it begs to question Manawyndan turned down the offer of a drink. Is there even a possible chance that he? For a moment she looked lost in thought contemplating the fact that there could very well be more at work here and as the council had said all might not be as it seems. It was then she felt her own rage, anger that he assumed it was an Eorzian plot of some sort? Snorting loudly, she turned her head up at the idea this had anything to do with her or her people, "I suppose I should take that as a compliment that you think I or my people could have had something to do with this." Elise knew she should have kept it to herself, but she was internally seething that he had insinuated an Eorzian ploy could be at hand here when she barely had time to worry about her sleeping pattern to even think about killing the King. "Considering the fact, you all see me as some ignorant child I have been under supervision ever since I stepped foot in this castle. The ladies aren't my own and don't think me naive enough to think they haven't been whispering in your ears about my movements here or reporting back to you both. Lastly I have been confined to my rooms and the few Eorzian people that accompanied me here have not set foot out of my wing." Hissing out her words as she folded her arms to stop herself from shaking, between the fear of an actual assassination attempt and the annoyance she felt of being remotely accused of this a part of her hoped she had been wrong and that she had seen nothing in the wine. Swallowing hard she glanced at the cup on the table wincing as Ozragad picked it up seeing the savage gleam in his eye as he clearly had an idea on what to do with it. By now the servant was being dragged back in here and she watched the cruel King show just who was in power here. The weak attempts as the servant fought were pitiful and she wondered if that was how she had looked in the moments of their fight. Elise wanted to tear her eyes away, but she had to watch this, she had to know if it truly was poison that been in that cup. Maybe I was wrong. What's worse, being right and knowing an attempt was made or looking like a fool to my future husband. It was a question she couldn't answer, and she watched as silence fell over the room the servant now being forced to drink the wine. She was certain she could hear her heart hammering away, the soft thuds in her head as she waited. It seemed like the longest couple of minutes and just as she was about to berate herself for overreacting, she could see the servants body start to convulse as the poison now bled into his system. Coughs and splutters could be heard as he started to foam from the lips chocking on his own spit and you could hear the laboured breaths fill the room that was feeling more warmer than it had moments ago and Elise was unable to tear her eyes away from the dying man.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth By the time the man's convulsions had ceased beneath him, Ozragad's head had began to clear once more. The red mist lifted from his eyes and he saw the scene before him. A dead man on the floor, the Princess and Manawyndan standing shocked above him, a cluster of guards and courtiers nervously peering through the open doors. There was blood on his hand and cuff from when the servant had begun to wretch and splutter. He stared at it for a moment before he wiped it on the front of the dead man's tunic and rising to his feet. "Get this out of my sight." He wearily commanded the two guards who had brought the servant in moments before. "And then shut that door." They readily complied, dragging the dead man from the chamber, and then sealing them off once more from the curious and worried gaze of the court. Treachery and treason, in his own palace, he could scarcely believe it. He had thought he had put and end all of that after the regency of his youth, and he had marched against those who had conspired against his mother. Poison. It was the weapon of a coward. He despised that more than anything else. It shall not happen to me, I will not let it happen. They fear to face me, I shall hunt them down. The thought of what he would do when he found whoever was behind this reassured him for a moment, until his councillor spoke once more. "That was ill done." "Really? How?" The King shot Manawyndan a poisonous glance, but the Lord Steward did not back down. "That did not help us find who was responsible for this, he should have been taken and questioned. By the Gods, he might not have even known that he served you poison. But we can't find that out now, because you killed him." His tone was disobedient, bordering on insolence. But Ozragad could not find the rage in him again. He just felt tired. "Oh, just get out of here. Go do your job and find out who did this." Manawyndan stared back at him, and with a snort of derision marched out of the council chamber without a second look. Now he was alone with the Princess. The King went to say something but the words caught in this throat and withered there. What was he to say? Should he thank her? Should he apologise again? Should he beg for her forgiveness. Or should he ask her what his councillor advised him - is this your doing? He did not know. He didn't meet her gaze as he wearily walked back to his seat at the table, and slumped into it. Somewhere in all the action his grey streaked dark mane had come loose from the knot that had held it behind his head. Strands of hair hung down around Ozragad's face. Unselfconsciously, he reached up and removed the plain circle that rested on his head and set it on the table before him. He shook his hair loose, let it fall free. "I am sorry for my councillor. It is his job to be suspicious." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, as if he was in pain. "It seems... I may owe you a great deal. There is one question I have though... why? Why did you choose to save me? If I had died you might have been free of me, and this place, which you clearly both despise. So why did you save my life?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise had to hold back the bile in her stomach from watching the scene before her, as much as she wished she could look away she had to watch the reality. It only affirmed what she and Lady Cheldarine had spoken about and that enemies would be everywhere she turned, though she couldn't discern if this had been meant for her also it still left a foul taste in her mouth. Not once had she seen someone die in such a gruesome manner and seeing the serving boy die had resurfaced a repressed memory of her own. It took all her strength not to hurl her guts as the image of her dead younger brother crossed her mind, remembering how she had been defiant pushing past the guards and her elder brother to see what the commotion was. Instantly she had regretted the decision as for many nights after she had nightmares surrounding it and even to this day it came back to haunt her on occasion. To see her younger brother sprawled on the bed skin ghostly white, blue tinging his lips and fingers adorned by red blood splatters. Crimson stained sheets from the usual bright white they were. To remember the haunted look of horror on her young brothers face as her eyes looked over the wounds, a deep slice across his throat and smaller ones on his wrists and then feet. The younger Prince had bled out and no one had heard anything, no scream and no signs of fight meaning the coward that had done the deed had done so whilst the Prince slept deeply. It had later been found there was a sleeping aid in his drink so he wouldn't have stirred at the attack. So, caught up in her own whirlwind of horror Elise didn't pay any sort of attention to Ozragad and Manawyndans conversation until she heard the shut of the door leaving her alone with him. Panicked for a split second she whirled around to look at Ozragad as he returned to his seat at the table, silence forming between them as she couldn't find any sort of words to say and it seemed he couldn't either. Elise didn't dare move from the spot she was standing, using the table to keep herself steady fearing that her own legs would fail her and crumble beneath the pressure. A shaky breath escaped her lips, one that she didn't realise she had been holding as she slowly gained the courage to move back to her seat the whole way using the table to lean on as she lowered herself into the chair glad to have the support of the wood beneath her. "I understand." Clearing her throat to try and sound confident and not show how unsettled she had been from this incident; it had dredged up memories she wished to be kept buried. "I'll take it as a compliment that he thinks I could orchestrate such a thing under your watchful gaze." Trying to settle she knew the comfort she needed would not be gained here, but she was not looking forward to the nights to come knowing the nightmares would resurface and that was a vulnerability she wanted no one to know about. "Why? Why did you choose to save me?" Why had she saved him? Pausing as she thought on how to answer him because she didn't know herself, it could have been down to instinct. It could have been because she knew her survival depended on his own, or maybe she was warming to the idea of marriage. It could have even been because peace was sorely needed in their lands and the blood that had been spilled was more than enough to last a lifetime. "I don't know in all honesty." Elise folded her arms as her brow furrowed trying to piece together her own scattered thoughts, "Poison is cowardly." Muttering out her distaste for the substance until she found herself sighing again cringing at how he assumed she despised him and the palace. It wasn't true, she despised that her freedom had been taken, that her father had forced this on her which she had channelled through onto Ozragad when it wasn't his fault she had been put in this position. "I don't despise you or this place maybe some of your actions. It's actually beautiful here in its own way. I despise the fact my freedom was taken from me because I was born a certain gender. That as a woman you can't fight. If I had allowed you to drink that poison than you'd have died. Maybe I could have had a chance at my freedom, but that wouldn't be the case." Elise stopped for a moment placing her head in her hands on the table finally admitting to herself something she very much knew, and something Lady Cheldarine had also reminded her of as she was honest with him. "My life is very much in your hands, it's dependant on you being alive because you are the only thing stopping those that wish to tear me apart because of my heritage. I have a handful of men and they'd be crushed in a heartbeat leaving me to deal with whatever horrors my enemies wish me to live, I wouldn't be able to make it out of here and if by some miracle I did I would not be able to navigate your lands or go unrecognised for that matter." Lifting her head up slightly to meet his gaze she could feel her own mental exhaustion of this place creeping in. "We came to an agreement. I will uphold my side of it."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn In the week that had passed Elise could safely say that a good night's rest had eluded her once again, unable to get more than a couple of hours at a time she struggled to remove the images from her mind as nights passed. Memories ranging from the past with her brother to the server Ozragad had forced to drink the poison both permanently stained into her mind. It felt like her hands would never be clean, blood staining them and no matter how much she scrubbed she couldn't remove the feeling of the warmth on her fingertips, the blood she had once touched. Even eating had become a chore for her as she found it hard to swallow anything solid and keep it down for a few hours before the haunting had resumed and the ability to keep food down whilst vivid imagery graced her mind became difficult. Elise had done her best to keep this a secret, not wanting any of it to go back to the King as she kept the simple façade of happiness. Whether or not her ladies had caught on to her nightmares and lack of eating they didn't make it known which she was thankful for, even if it was all starting to catch up again. Freedom to leave her section had now been granted, but she didn't roam far keeping to her rooms for the most part because the idea of leaving played about with her anxiety that someone was ready to strike her down. At times when she felt daring, she could be found in the library using the books to read as an escape and a good source of focus for her mind away from all the bloodshed. With her tired form and lack of energy she had even fallen asleep in one of the chairs in the library only to wake up at any little sound still on edge from the incident. Elise could feel the tension as the days passed, but things seemed to settle again and there was a buzz about the castle as Manawydan had started to prepare the great hunt that was a premarital tradition. After having kept to herself for most of the week she hadn't seen Ozragad from their last discussion where her vulnerable side had shown, it was a blessing because she didn't know what she would have to say to him. Not after the assassination attempt and that fact that she had and probably still was suspected to have had a hand in it. Elise couldn't blame them for the accusation or suspension for that matter because if she had been in their shoes, had she nearly been killed her first thought would go to the King wondering if he wanted her gone. Atarah had the good sense to plan a beautiful gown for the hunt, something of Formori culture to help gain favour with his people. It was another fine gown with a deep rich colour rather than the pale blues and purples she would wear back home, this gown had a golden lace and trim and she could feel Atarah having to tighten it up more than she usually would on other outfits. Thankfully the woman didn't even speak about it and had just gotten her ready for the day curling her hair and letting it fall down naturally as she wove in a golden circlet atop her head. Once dressed for the day Atarah handed her a fur trimmed shawl to keep her warm if the temperature had dropped as they would be outside for the hunt itself most of the day and she was pleased to know Atarah would be with her throughout to help with names and information to help with small talk. Already Elise felt tired, and the day had yet to begin, playing an act as if everything was okay took a lot of energy and with her lack of sleep, she knew she would have to be careful and not snap at those around her. It was why she had said to Treville to just watch her from afar because hearing his constant disappointment in her actions and how she should present herself would only infuriate her. They were all outside currently waiting for the King to arrive and Atarah had informed her of the horse she would be riding and was talking through the day with her only to stop as silence fell across everyone signalling his arrival. Following suit, she bowed alongside the others not even playing the game and daring to bow as little as she could get away with, no she was too tired to play and just bowed like she normally would not caring about it in the slightest. There were bigger priorities on her mind right now, the thought of staying alive amongst this pack of wolves that wouldn't hesitate to cut her down. You can do this, it's just another day. Another event and once it is over, I can return to the peace of my room. But… what if a stray arrow shoots me whilst out here?</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad caught sight of her as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The Princess was bowing deeply, much like his own subjects, surrounded by a knot of the ladies he had placed to serve (and spy on) her. He had half expected some kind of scene, a continuation of the game of mutual hostilities and disrespects their relationship had largely been up until this point. But there was none. Perhaps they were past all that now, with their new arrangement... and all else that had happened since. Strange, how he looked back on their bitter arguments with almost an element of fondness now. It felt like a different time, simpler, less dangerous. Less dangerous for you maybe. It was always dangerous for her, after all, it was you she was fighting with. You almost strangled her. Ozragad winced at the memory of her delicate throat under his hands. But it was true, she had always been in danger in Morganyth, from himself as well as others. He was still a danger to her, after all, it could still be her who had tried to kill him. She had plenty of motive. And what will you do then? As the crowd parted for him, Ozragad could see that the grooms and stable hands were bringing the horses up, ready for their riders to mount. There was an order of precedence to the whole thing, he would mount first, followed by next in precedence and so on and so on. The next highest ranked person here would be the Princess herself, being a fellow royal, albeit a foreign one. The King could see his own tall black stallion drawn up across the ward, but next to it there was another horse saddled and ready. He could tell from here that it was a magnificent creature. The palace stables at Cirith Anyr kept some of the finest horseflesh in all the country, even before he had needed to mount and outfit so many warriors for his armies. They bred for speed, rather than size, and he could see by its build it would fast. She was a filly still, just on the cusp of being considered a mare. Her coat was palomino, a pale cream, with flowing mane and tail of pure white. He did not know her by sight, but a horse so fine must have come from his personal collection, and there was only one person it could have been brought here for. This was a mount fit for a Princess. Normally he would have marched on past his bowing courtiers and got on horseback as quickly as possible in order to get the assembled court moving, Ozragad hated waiting. But now he paused at the foot of the stairs. This was supposed to be political theatre was it not? Then he would give them some theatre to talk about. He turned and walked to where the Princess still knelt, planting himself directly in front of her. He proffered a hand to her. "Your mount awaits you, Princess."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Which one will attempt to cut me down? Elise couldn't help but think like that as she held the bow waiting to arise to her full height alongside the others. It would be easy to make it look like a riding accident. Maybe this hunt has been designed by the King himself to finally finish the deed. He hadn't hesitated in strangling her in the library a memory that often crossed her mind and she had scolded herself for not fighting as she used too, just letting herself go through the motions all to keep herself alive. It wasn't right, but then actively fighting him hadn't been the way to go either as she was certain he suspected her to have tried to poison him, which was absurd, especially if he knew the horrors she was currently facing when alone. Is it worth losing myself? Mulling over her inner thoughts she felt a pang in her stomach, a sharp pain reminding her of the missed breakfast that she couldn't bear to stomach left on the bedside in her room no doubt been cleaned away already. Something she knew she would have to fix as what was the point in playing this careful game to keep herself alive if she was just going to let herself waste away like this. Hiding the discomfort on her face she glanced up when a shadow cast over her form to see Ozragad himself had approached her, but what surprised her was the outstretched hand to her of all people. This is a show after all. Reminding herself of that fact quickly as she graced him with a smile taking his hand as she rose to her feet happy to not be in that position anymore as she felt the release of pressure from her stomach. There was no room for hesitation right now, not if they were trying to have a somewhat united front against their enemies that seemingly lurked everywhere within the shadows. "Your highness." Speaking softly as she began to follow towards the horses that had been brought out before them, her own eyes looking at the black steed that she assumed to be his finding her gaze caught by the white mare beside it saddled and ready to go knowing that was the creature she would be riding today. It was certainly beautiful and reminded her of her own horse back home that she highly doubted she would ever ride again, like his horse the one she had back home had been black and in her own Kingdom she couldn't remember ever seeing white mares and she knew she was excited to get to ride it. Grasping his hand, it was only then she became conscious that her own was ice cold in his, in fact her whole body in general was cold which she knew was down to the lack of sleep as often when this happened to her, she would just grow cold finding it hard to keep her warmth. It wouldn't have been an issue had he not offered his hand and she couldn't very well refuse it in front of all these people and embarrass him. It would only cause more of a commotion around their wedding and arrangement. Don't draw attention to it. "It seems like good weather for a hunt." Keeping the pleasant smile on her face as she walked acting as if nothing was the matter and not letting on to anyone there was anything wrong, she approached the horses letting her hand drop from his the moment it became acceptable and not odd to the eyes of others. After all everyone was watching them, and she would not give them reason to gossip. Taking the reigns from one of the servers she thanked them politely as she gently reached up stroking the horse and allowing it to take in her scent to accept her, but the horse didn't seem to be spooked by her at all which was a good sign. I still can't shake the feeling of another attack, what if they try again? It's so open out here. I don't exactly have anything to defend myself with and it would look awfully strange if I asked for it. Maybe even suspicious. Though she was facing an inner turmoil nothing gave any hint to it on her face as she glanced back to Ozragad waiting for him to mount his horse before she would get on her own for the hunt.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise busied herself with the beautiful horse she was about to ride, listening to all the people around her as chatter began to ensue from everyone now that Ozragad had mounted his horse. It started off a lot of movement around and she glanced towards one of her ladies who signalled for her to mount her own horse. As if forgetting for a moment she was here to be a part of this prewedding tradition she denied the help of one of the servers and got on the horse herself without need of help. Of course, she could ride, she had been taught when she was a young girl back in the palace to ride a horse and often, she found herself enjoying the freedom of it until her father ordered that no one was allowed to ride further than the castle grounds which restricted a lot of her movement. Glancing behind her once mounted she could see Treville who had readied himself on the horse watching her keenly as if waiting for someone to dare attack her. Everyone is on edge, I'm not surprised. Am I worried? No. Liar. Elise thought to herself as she gripped the reigns of her horse moving along with the crowd trying to ignore her earlier awkwardness when mentioning the weather to him. Caught in her own thoughts she missed the figure of her personal guard approaching her on horseback to lecture her. "My lady, you need to keep your wits about you. This is so open. So… dangerous. Why ever did you agree to such traditions?" A low hurried whisper could be heard from Treville as he acted like he was having a normal conversation with the Princess. "They want a show, this marriage is meant for peace is it not? This will only show that we have a united front amongst all our enemies and that we truly mean for this peace to work." Elise cut him down quickly as she shot him a glance frowning at him clearly telling him to keep his opinions to himself. "I… of course. I just do not wish to see harm befall you. Apologies your grace." Treville mumbled as he shook his head muttering his disapproval as he fell back on his horse leaving Elise alone once more to continue riding with the group. Her ladies were riding just behind her and Elise couldn't help but look out at the land, the people that were gathered for their union as she caught sight of all the guards ready and waiting for any sign of danger. It didn't ease her worries seeing them there, in fact she was still under the belief that she could be killed at any moment. Looking ahead as people began to fan out, she caught the Kings motion and obliged moving up beside him on her horse as she listened, inwardly cringing at how he had caught on and the choice was hers on whether she should be honest or not. "It should be no problem your highness, acting comes naturally to me." Speaking softly letting him know that no matter what she was feeling no other would see it or be able to catch onto it, she was here to play her part as promised. Sparing a glance around her ensuring no one was within earshot she decided to offer him a bit of truth to how she was, her ladies had glimpses and whether or not it was reported to him she didn't know. "I have not been myself since the incident, it brought back memories I thought long forgotten." Is there any harm in telling him the truth? "Lack of sleep feeds the paranoia; I can't say I feel completely safe. It would not be hard for an accident to happen in the open. A stray arrow to strike me down and end the alliance with blame solely being on an accident whilst hunting." Although she was discussing her fears of her impending death she did not flinch or let it show on her face, if anyone were to see it would only stir up rumours or conflicts and she was not about to let everyone know of such things. "Perhaps a truth for a truth? Would you care to tell me what is on your mind currently?" Elise posed the question to him, perhaps it would be a way for them to bond and start some sort of connection for their marriage. Would it really matter to know more about him? Perhaps it would make the marriage easier in the long run.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad listened as the Princess opened up to him. It... it had not been what had expecting. He had merely wanted reassurance that whatever it was that was troubling her was not going to get in the way of his planned piece of political propaganda. Instead she had bared her inner thoughts and fears to him. He did not know if he managed to keep the look of surprise from his face. But was it really so surprising, not her confiding in him, but that the stress and anxiety caused by the assassination attempt would be weighing heavily on her mind. So do you believe she is innocent now, or do you think this is just another ploy? And then that question she asked him, what was on his mind? When was the last time he divulged his private thoughts to anyone other than Manawyndan? And to you even trust him enough to do that anymore? When was the last time he had an honest conversation without all the powerplays, the politics, the deception? He honestly could not say. Not for many, many years. Probably not truly since Liveuta had left him. Ah there you go, tell her that, tell her your are thinking about another woman. A better woman. For a while they rode on in silence down the stony track, passing over a small brook that came tumbling down from the rocky hills above. The King mulled that question over in his mind again and again. Eventually he spoke, his voice still low, a bitter note to the words. "I am thinking about all the people I used to trust, and why they seem to be so few these days." A half truth, he was thinking about a particular person he once would have trusted with all his heart, and he knew exactly why she was gone. "This is by no means the first time someone has tried to kill me. I remember feeling so afraid the first time, I was only a child then, but it gets less the longer you keep surviving. I suppose you get used to it, in time." He cleared his throat and craned his neck to observe what the rest of the party was doing as they spoke. Lord Iria jested with an annoyed looking Lord Urathon, whilst Manawyndan watched the King and the Princess like a hawk from nearby. Lady Cheladrine seemed to be arguing with her eldest, Elethiomel. Her younger son was bothering the irate Captain Rhiathon, who in turn scanned the horizon for the outriders she had sent ahead to scout their path. "Was that your first brush with death, Princess? Or have you tasted it before?" He turned his golden gaze back towards her. He found suddenly that he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to trust someone else.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Was it wise to tell him my fears? Though Elise doubted he was so willing to have her dead, there had been a moment when he could have done it and drained the life from her when he had his hands around her throat, but yet he had stopped. It's just because he needs the lands I provide. For his people to survive, nothing more. But yet it had felt right to tell him the truth of what was on her mind, there was only so much she could hide and considering it was starting to now show physically it was becoming more difficult to conceal it. As the silence fell between them, she couldn't help but wonder what her future really had in store here, was she forever going to be counting each day she lived waiting for the moment of her own demise. Perhaps I was a fool to offer him that branch, a stem of truth for one of his own. Keeping her eyes in front of her as they rode on, until she finally heard his reply letting her in on his own thoughts. "I think it comes hand in hand with being a King, not knowing who you can really trust." Frowning for a moment as he continued on about how it was not the first time someone had tried to kill him, she wasn't really surprised it was natural for Royals to have high bounties on their heads to the power hungry or rebellious people, but it didn't make it any easier about hearing it. "That's awfully sad, to know you get used to something like that in time, having a target on your back. Enduring it, surviving it. Even as a child. I'm not really surprised, it's only natural things like this happen and it was something I was taught as a child." Shaking her head slightly as she tried to remove the rather dark thoughts from her mind, that her life would always be surrounded by those she could not trust and those that would want to see her dead. Turning her gaze to the party that surrounded them as she used the silence again between them to see what the others were doing, Treville and his own men weren't too far from her just watching out and not engaging in any conversations with any of the Formori. There were her ladies who looked to be in deep discussion with themselves and it didn't look to be important, but she caught their smiles and laughter between one another, and she felt a pang in her heart missing that kind of feeling. To be able to laugh and joke with someone she could consider a friend, the closest she had achieved to that so far was Lady Cheldarine, but again was that a woman she could trust? Hearing his next question, her body stiffened as she gripped the reigns harder, a question she had never expected from him nor did she expect to have the need to ever answer such a thing. Subconsciously without even realising her fingers brushed against the fabric on her right wrist, a scar that was and had always been perfectly hidden by her dresses. Meeting his golden gaze with her own bright blue eyes she kept the silence between them for a few more moments before she finally opened her mouth to speak, "This is… the second time." What harm can he do with my past? "That's not to say I haven't seen plenty of death, there is more than I can count on that front, but personally. This is the second time I have feared for my own life." As much as she knew the death of her younger brother had affected her it was clear she was not the target, Athos had been and a part of her even suspected her own brother had hired the assassin just to secure his line to the throne. Sighing to herself as her eyes were downcast now having finally made up her mind to tell him a story of her past, one that went hand in hand with her nightmares of her younger brother. After all getting to know each other would make things easier for them and maybe one day she'd feel like she could trust him. "I was only thirteen at the time, and I guess it was partly my own fault for wandering off too far from my escort, but it proved to be the perfect opportunity for these rebels to steal me away and demand a handsome ransom to the King… except the ransom was too high a price that my father was willing to pay and tradition in Eorzia always meant I'd never inherit the throne, so I was somewhat expendable. Especially when he had two healthy sons." Trailing off for a moment as she knew he would catch her drift without needing to delve too much into the nitty gritty of the story. "After a day or so they learned I would not fetch them the coin they desired the only option they felt they had left was to try and kill me and run from the evidence." Narrowing her eyes as she tried not to recall the memory knowing it was yet something else she had chosen to burry deep in her mind, to not feel that fear she had when she was a child but with it being a part of her nightmares it was hard to forget. "Perhaps they had a sense of guilt or did not want to watch me die because of my age but they opted to slit my wrist and let me bleed out. I might have been dead in minutes if they had cut the right place, and maybe it was luck, because they had missed it by an inch." This time her gaze sought out Treville, her eyes falling on him for a moment before she turned back to face Ozragad finishing her little tale. "Treville was quite young back then, but it was how he was promoted quickly within our ranks as he had found me hours later abandoned by the rebels. I had lost a fair amount of blood by that point, not enough to kill me. But enough for me to fear I'd die." It had been more than enough to scare her though, especially at her age having to go through an ordeal like that and her father had clearly felt some guilt from it after because he had practically given her everything she wanted. "Have you ever felt that before? Life slipping away from you without having the power to stop it yourself?" She found herself looking back at him intently, feeling slightly vulnerable for sharing something of her past that not many knew about her bar the Royal Family.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise continued to ride on the white mare and for some strange reason she felt a slither of relief after having told her tale, not once had she voiced it to anyone before partly because her father had forbidden it and in truth, she never wanted to relive that moment again. Now, she felt an odd sensation almost like it had been freeing even with having told Ozragad of all people. This hidden secret of her past. If her father knew she had told their enemy of all people he would go mental, probably as he would assume it exposed a weakness that he could take advantage of. Is he my enemy though? Even with the peace treaty she knew how her father thought, and she wouldn't be surprised for one moment if he was already finding loopholes to bring this country down. Brutal honesty also told her that it didn't matter if she was his wife or not, she would go down with the Kingdom alongside him. It's a start between us, I guess. I don't know what possessed me to tell him. I've never… Frowning to herself as her eyes focused on her wrist, the fabric hiding the scar that she knew was there beneath it. "I've never told anyone about it, and I'm sure you can understand why it's not been broadcasted before. I just ask you respect that and keep it to yourself." Her voice was soft, no hint of her usual stubborn self as she had shared something quite intimate and even though she was to marry this man he will still a stranger to her. I don't need anyone's pity on the past. Nodding along as she listened to him talk about the wounds he had received on the battlefield, how the adrenaline fuelled him she couldn't help but wonder if anything did scare him. Had there ever been a moment in his life he truly feared for something? I can't ask something like that. It was only then did her eyes widen slightly as he admitted to know of the same feeling she had experienced, life slipping away without having any sort of power to stop it. Whether directly or not she couldn't quite tell as he didn't go into it, maybe he would another day as after all this wasn't the conversation, she had expected to have with him. Elise had just expected to exchange small pleasantries, wait for the Hunt to be over and return back to her room as if it was any other day here. No in depth talks or getting to know one another like it had turned out to be. The silence was almost deafening as she glanced to the sky to see the hawks crying over them and she took the chance to look at the lands before her. They were beautiful in its own sense and she found herself comparing it to Eorzia and what her home was like, but she had to remind herself that it was no longer her home. Not when her life was to be here now. They still had meadow grass here and although when she had first approached the city it was in some sort of cave it still had some green land. Not much from what she had seen so far, but enough for wildlife to live inside. That is probably why lands were a big part of the deal. Meeting his gaze as she looked back towards him a wave of confusion crossed her face, why was he sorry? It wasn't like he had specifically ordered the rebels to do such a thing, and then there was her father who hadn't done anything to help her at that age which to her was just as bad. None the less, the apology from him had stirred an emotion inside and she wasn't sure what it was exactly. "No… I." Hesitating for a moment as she glanced away her fingers gripping the reigns of her horse painfully tight, "It means more than you realise, to offer sincere words like you have. Thank you." As Elise spoke her chest tightened as she tried to process what she was feeling in the valley, rather than make an effort to figure it out she put whatever it was down to not feeling one hundred percent and that it was having an effect on her rationale side. At a loss for anymore words she offered Ozragad a warm smile before he raced down to the encampment, keeping the horse at her own steady pace she continued on just watching his retreating figure finding that she wanted to know more about him.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- Art by Chris Hull --- --- There was still a thin line of mist hanging above the opposite shore of the lake when Ozragad arrived at the camp. The low hillock it was situated upon gave a good view of the dark blue waters, the distant forests, and the hills and mountains that rose above them all. The chill was dissipating from the late morning air, as more and more sun broke threw the patches of cloud to bathe the land beneath in their rays. Perhaps the Princess right after all, he mused to himself as he surveyed the horizon, it is good weather for a hunt. The top of the hillock was taken up by a pair of large canvas pavilions, between them there had been erected a wooden platform covered by an awning. The rest of the camp of lesser pavilions and common tents had been arranged around these, leaving a clear central avenue the dais looked down onto. They would be hunting all day, or gods forbid, multiple days, and therefore there was a good chance they would be spending the night here. Ozragad did not mind particularly, he was more than used to living on the march, it was the theatre of it all that grated at him. He did not appreciate an audience to his leisure time. For some reason the King found himself thinking about her again, did she hate the artifice of all this as much he did? Or was she inured to such things from her time in Eozia? Had she ever slept beneath the open sky? Had she ever hunted into mountains and forests such as these? She was a strange creature to him. In some small ways Ozragad supposed they were similar, their royal upbringing, their fiery tempers and fierce wills, their own share of traumas. Though at the same time, they were profoundly different, their race, their gender, their age, the very lives they had led. How was it then she had been able to pierce him so with a simple question? And somehow dredge her up from the depths of his soul. Livueta. "You're staring." The voice made him jump. It was Manawyndan, he could tell just from the dry rasp of the old Formori's throat, but he had not heard him approach. Never forget, he is a spymaster, he knows those subtle arts better than you. "I was thinking actually." "About what exactly, sire?" The councillor raised an eyebrow he query. "Nothing, nothing that matters at least. Shall we get on with this?" There might have been a time he would have devulged his thoughts to Manawyndan, but that time seemed to have passed. After all, someone was trying to kill him. Manawyndan certainly had means... but did he have motive? Either way he should trust no one. And yet you are busy taking the Eorzian child into your confidences. He turned his back on the lake and strode to the wooden dais erected between the two royal tents. The majority of the courtiers were milling around in the camp, the servants hard at work preparing the tents for their masters, the guards either at their stations or patrolling the outer edge of the camp. On the wooden stage were a number of Ozragad's inner circle, his two other present councillors, Lords Iria and Urathon, Lady Cheldarine and her family. "Lord Iria will make the announcement, if it pleases Your Majesty." Manawyndan again, slipping in beside him, whispering to him what would happen. How had he once been comforted by this man's ever-present presence? Now he thought about, was there not something sinister about a councillor who was too useful, too indispensable? "Very well. Get on with it." Ozragad spoke brusquely with a dismissive wave of his hand. Iria turned to a herald standing at the edge of the platform, at his signal the long call of the hunting horn sounded once more.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but take in the beauty of the forest, the mist that shrouded it in mystery to her as she didn't know these lands and she took in every sight she could memorising it in her mind. It gave her some peace and comfort to be able to focus on something like this after having opened up about her past, allowing him inside the walls she had built up briefly. Was it just because she wanted to believe Lady Cheldarine in the fact he needed her by his side, or was it because a slither of trust would help build some sort of relationship between them making life easier in the long run. I should still be careful, perhaps one day there will come a point when I feel safe in these lands. Who knows when that will be? I can't allow myself to get comfortable. "Your highness?" Pulled out of her thoughts Elise turned to see Treville had approached from behind and she found herself frowning only thinking he had yet more wonderful advice for her that she didn't care to hear about. "I don't want to hear it, I know you are against this wedding tradition, but it's not about you. Nor I or even him. This is for the people to show a united front, how else do you expect to achieve peace from this?" "No, I have made my thoughts clear on that matter and I already know it falls on deaf ears where you are concerned." Treville bowed to Elise before rising once more his horse now alongside the others being fed. Offering out his hand to help Elise down from the stunning white mare, she had ridden on he cleared his throat. "I have just come to advise that I will keep an eye out and sweep the perimeter." "Do what you must." Sighing softly before she strode off away from him not even glancing back at his bowed form before he slipped off into the woods as the announcements were made. Trevilles priorities had always been keeping the Princess safe, even behind enemy lines he would put himself in front of a blade before it could reach her. The news of the assassination attempt did have him unsettled, although he couldn't be sure if it was meant solely for the King, he would keep his eyes and ears peeled out for oncoming danger. Something that could happen whilst out in such an open area for a hunt. Brushing herself down Elise was soon joined by her ladies and overseer of her household in Morganyth, Atarah, Ida and Flora all stood ready to serve her with bright smiles on their faces. Apparently, they were all very excited to be part of the hunt as if it was some big deal, which when Elise considered the thought it technically was with the sentiment behind it. Just to her it didn't mean anything other than helping their case for peace. "You remember Lord Iria, and that's Lord Urathon. Of course, Lady Cheldarine is someone you've met on multiple occasions now." Ida began whispering in the Princesses ear to remind her of all the notable members at court. "They'll make an announcement. Then the hunt will officially begin. Did you want to rest a while once it's begun? Or join in the festivities? Your tent is nearly ready." "I may just sit and watch a while first, enjoy the beautiful scenery before me." Without wanting to admit it Elise felt quite drained both physically and mentally already from the events and the idea of sitting down for a moment or two sounded quite appealing. "Of course, you should see the stars at night your highness, it's exquisite. I'll ensure we have a warm winters coat ready as the temperature drops at night." "That would be wonderful, thank you so much." Elise found herself smiling at her lady in waiting happy at the idea of being able to look up at the stars at night. It had been the first time she had ever been outside overnight, not counting her trip up here because she had been travelling. There had never been an opportunity for her to go out hunting as that wasn't what a lady did back home. Not that it stopped her from practicing how to handle a sword and a bow and arrow for that matter as she wasn't prepared to be as defenceless as she had been when she had been taken at a young age. Glancing up towards the dias as a silence swept over the people in attendance, she heard the hunting horn, and she felt her gaze fall onto Ozragad finding herself more curious about him with each new thing she learnt whilst here. Can I really trust him? Or will he be the one to kill me?</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Catching him look away from her she kept her gaze on him watching his appearance, the way he held himself and she hated the idea that she was feeling more comfortable around him. It unsettled her the idea that she had opened up revealing something of her past that she had kept safely locked away in the back of her mind, but perhaps she had spoken it because she was feeling more comfortable around him and what was going to be her new home. I would love to know what he is truly thinking, about us. About the peace treaty, his people. Will we ever be truthful with one another or will we just simply coexist fulfilling the duties that we must. It was only when Lord Iria began to talk did she look away focusing now on the Lord that began the announcement to signify the start of the hunt. Finding herself smile as she watched the enthused Lord in full flow clearly enjoying the theatrics of this. Is that what I think of this? Some big theatrical farce to appease everyone. No… I don't think I quite think of it like that. Not anymore. Finding her smile grow as she listened, eyes shinning with delight at the small joke made she had forgotten her earlier concerns as everyone around seemed to be just as captivated with the Lord and listening to his speech. It was almost like the calm before the storm, everyone seemed to be in a joyous mood about this hunt and it was then Elise felt like she should enjoy herself too. The idea of sleeping under the stars, enjoying the freedom of the outdoors was something she knew she could get behind. Sadly, with the assassination attempt and the tensions that could be felt she knew she still had to be on guard, but she could do both. Enjoy herself and keep an eye out for potential danger. I wonder what beast the King will slay for me. Turning her gaze back to the King, wondering if he was going to put effort into it, care about slaying some magnificent creature to prove his worth. It wouldn't surprise her if he wasn't about to go to such lengths, but she found herself wanting his attention. His effort in sourcing something great like a King would for her. Who wouldn't want that, it's natural? As if trying to justify her own thoughts that anyone in her situation would still want the best. I know I would want to give it my all, I plan too with the performance… Elise found herself pausing at her own thoughts not wanting to admit the truth behind the other wedding tradition of the bride performing for the groom. That she wanted to do something that would grab his attention, that he would like, and she could feel those inner thoughts lingering embarrassing her as a pink hue graced her cheeks. Pushing the thoughts down as she tried to focus once more on Ozragad speaking, announcing his champions that would follow him glancing around at the pause as she could hear whispers across the crowd. As he announced the last member to his party cheers erupted and Elise followed the crown applauding with a smile not really caring for who was in his party until she realised it meant Manawyndan was staying behind at the camp. For some reason it didn't sit right with her, but she found herself wary around him especially after he had insinuated that she could have had a hand in the attempt on the Kings life. If he knew of the horrors, she faced each night, the nightmares and anxiety that followed no one would question her. With the champions now set Elise turned to face her ladies who showed her towards her tent that had now been fully set up and ready to host her. There was no doubt in her mind that a bit of rest would be perfect.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad had somehow managed to avoid conversing with Manadwyndan or any of his other councillors until he was atop his great black stallion once more and riding out along the lakeshore to the hunting grounds. Then there was no escaping Lord Urathon or Captain Rhiathon, two of his three hunting companions. Other than that, they rode with a small group of guards, some huntsmen to handle the tracking dogs, and finally Elethiomel, Ozragad's kinsman and spur of the moment replacement for his planned third hunting companion, Manawyndan. Had he overreacted in his anger and distrust of his councillor? Now that he was getting from the crowd and his temper was beginning to cool he felt somewhat foolish. How could Manawyndan, an old man, hope to harm in any way when he was alongside his loyal guardsmen and fellow councillors? Worse he had dragged a mere child into the middle of whatever scheme might be swirling around him. When has harming innocents ever stopped you from doing whatever you liked before? Do not think you have changed so much, or that you care any more just because he is of your blood. From behind, he heard the approaching hooves of two more horses, drawing nearer to him. Ozragad glanced behind to see his companions approaching him, Lord Urathon and Captain Rhiathon. They both wore severe expressions on their faces. No doubt they wished to lecture him about his sudden exclusion of Manawyndan. Urathon was the elder of the two, though not as old as Manawyndan or even Ozragad himself, his Lord Justicar, overseer of the Formori's laws and his courts. He was a serious man, with a habitually grave visage. He gave the appearance of orderly man, hair always pulled back, goatee always neatly trimmed. But Ozragad knew he was at home in the field, for hunting was one of his few passions, that and his young wife back at their camp. "Your Majesty, if we ma-" Urathon began, Rhiathon cut across him. Where Urathon was a sober and orderly man, Riathon had a warrior's heart. Her head was shaved of all hair, her arm as strong as any man's, Ozragad could not remember the last time he saw her out of armour. She had a fiery temper too, one that reminded him all too much of his own. But that was one of the reasons Ozragad had her as captain of his guard, she had little respect for anyone other than him and always acted without delay, she would never hesitate when it came to defending him. "Sire, the hunt has been extensively planned to ensure your safety, I would greatly appreciate it if you would consult with me before making any further changes to our security arrangements." "Noted, captain." He could feel a slight turn to his lip. Notice no reproach in her voice about Manawyndan, just that he had done so without consulting his guard captain first. There was no love lost between Rhiathon and Manawyndan, they were very different people, and had often clashed at his war councils. "Yes," Urathon tried to continue for where he had been interrupting. "But is it truly wise to exclude Lord Manawyndan considering t-" "What's done is done, Urathon. I will hear no more of this. Now, can we please focus on the task at hand? Hunting. The King spoke in a tone that brook no argument. He put his fingers to his lips and blew hard against them, emitting a shrieking whistle. "Elethiomel! Get up here boy!" With more than just a little trepidation the youth lashed his reins and brought his horse up to ride alongside the rest of the hunting companions. Ozragad had though of him as a child earlier, but he could see now that wasn't strictly true. His cousin's son was young, but was on the cusp of manhood now. He looked like Cheldarine too, with a heart shaped face and long auburn hair worn loose, though his was silk smooth where his cousin's was curled and coiled. "Y-you summoned me, Your Majesty?" There was tremble to his voice, in fact he seemed nervous to even be there. Well, it was hardly surprising considering the circumstances were rather unexpected. Still Ozragad his not remember his kinsman to be of a timid temperament, as far as he recalled he had been a headstrong boy, though he had not seen him a few years. "We are planning our strategy for today. Do you hunt much, up at the Ergyng estates? It was good land for coursing as far as I remember." His features relaxed and the tension went out of his body as the conversation turned towards the matter of hunting. He must have realised that he had been caught in some form of political quagmire, Ozragad thought. "Yes, sire, I am fair hunter, particularly with the bow. No doubt anywhere near as experienced as yourself, sire, or your lord and ladyship." "Urathon is fine tracker and rider. Captain Rhiathon has a good spear arm, but little else." "You wound me, sire, though my hunting skills are not my primary asset. I am here to ensure Your Majesty may hunt in peace. Ozragad thought there was little chance of that even if there was no attempt on his life today. "Well, we are all here. I think those woods up ahead look as likely spot as any to start. Loose the dogs and see if we can pick up a scent." The Hunt had begun.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn "Is it to your liking?" "Oh… It's, uh fine." Elise trailed off as she glanced towards the beautiful tent that had been erected for her, it was adorned in beautiful colours and wonderous silks. The extravagance screamed of royalty, and it was the first time she had seen such a thing because she had never slept out among the stars and had always been inside a palace or under a roof. "Sorry, it looks beautiful. This is the first time I've ever camped? Is that the word I'm looking for?" Pondering the thought as she questioned her ladies that had followed her along with smiles on their faces. "I'm not surprised personally." Atarah mused with a rather knowing smile, the overseer of the Princesses household whilst in Morganyth. The older woman was holding a few soft blankets in her arm ready to store inside the tent as it could get cold of a night, and she wouldn't want the Princess to be uncomfortable. "You haven't really travelled much if I recall correctly." "Indeed, my first-time travelling had been to come here." Elise smiled slightly realising she had been quite sheltered back at home, contained between the palace walls and even then, visits to the town had been scarce or with a huge amount of escort it was hardly enjoyable. Staying in Morganyth itself was a whole new experience and even now she was getting to stay outside the palace with the tradition of the hunt which was oddly exciting to her. Thrilling to be outside, but she did feel very exposed but perhaps that was partly to do with her little experience in exploring. "Well maybe when things all settle down and people come round to the idea of this treaty, I'm certain you'll be able to explore more. Perhaps even before then you could always ask his majesty if you'd like to see more." Atarah shrugged, whether or not he would agree to such a thing was a different story, but she doubted the Princess would even ask in the first place. "Oh no, it's okay. I don't want to be a bother." Taking a few steps into the tent she could see a few plush chairs all set up ready for her to relax in, glancing back she could see everyone else was happy to be focusing on what they were doing, and no one looked like they wanted to approach her so she would take the opportunity to get some rest away from prying eyes and expectant looks. Another reason Elise wouldn't bother asking was simply because they had only just started talking in a more civil way with one another, who knew how long that would last when both of them seemed to have a temper. "I've brought some food M'Lady and Flora has some fresh water." Ida bowed upon entry of the tent and placed a platter of fruit onto the table just as Flora sauntered in with a jug of water and a cup for the Princess. "Thank you." Elise smiled politely to the ladies that had all ensured her needs were met, as a household went, they weren't bad at all. Though she wouldn't trust them with her secrets or confide in them, they had all been welcoming and tried to assist her and not once did she sense any ill intent from them. "Although, I might take this opportunity to get some rest whilst I'm not needed." "Of course, the girls will keep watch outside and if you need me, I will be helping ensure the other households are all set up to expectations and smooth over any issues that occur." Atarah nodded as she clapped her hands to the girls who were both up and ready to leave, "Perfect opportunity to get some reading in the sunshine before they return." All three women bowed respectfully to Elise before exiting the tent leaving her to fulfil her wish to rest in peace. They had supplied food and drink and comfort so not much else would be needed, not at least until the King returned but that was all dependant on what he managed to hunt.</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine followed her host to the cushioned divans that were tastefully arranged around the hearth of the Princess's receiving room in the Silver Tower. She waited for Elise to take a seat before she herself settled down opposite her on the other side of fireplace, neatly gathering her skirts as she did so. The Formori woman listened to the Princess's response with her head cocked to the side. A ghost of smile played across her lips. "Well it certainly seems to have caused yourself some trouble, your Highness. I know my cousin is not an easy man to get along with, he is as you said, stubborn. Perhaps if you told me what happened exactly I could be some assistance in repairing this rift between you? After all, I do know him better than most." At that moment there was a flicker of an idea in the eyes of Lady Cheldarine. She turned to the Formori serving woman who had been discretely attending them from the back of the room and smiled wide at her. "I am however, somewhat parched this morning. Such a long way up to the palace, and so many stairs! Seems silly considering its all still underground, doesn't it? You wouldn't be dear and fetch us some tea would you?" The servant glanced over to Princess Elise as if searching for a counterorder, before bobbing her head obediently and disappearing out of the room. When they were alone Lady Cheldarine turned back to the Princess, holding one finger up. "A moment please." She stood and briskly walked over the door, placing her ear flat against it and listening for a few moments before seeming being satisfied by what she did or did not hear. She then walked over to one of the internal walls of the tower, lined with dark wooden panelling. With one finger she tapped on each of panels, listening as she did so. At the fifth panel she stopped and listened longer more intently than she had at the others, lingering for half a minute. Eventually she was again satisfied by what she heard, it was only then that the Lady turned back to the Princess and returned to her seat by the fire. "Well that makes me feel better, it appears Manawyndan is not currently up to his old tricks. Walls do have ears in this palace I'm afraid. Still, no unwanted eavesdroppers at the moment." She let out her soft husky laugh. "Now tell me, why has my cousin locked you up in here?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise felt herself hesitate as Lady Cheldarine caught on, she never expected the woman to take note and realise that her cousin had been a little rough handed with her. Not that it should matter, but Elise didn't what to voice the fact he had been rough with her as she didn't want to appear like some weak little girl. "Wooing me? Please I doubt he would even know how to woo someone nowadays." Sighing softly to herself as she could never imagine this King even start to woo a lady and court them, not that she even wanted it to happen herself. It was strange hosting this woman, she showed no outward signs of wanting to cause her harm which was refreshing but she still found it hard to trust even though Lady Cheldarine was quite easy to talk too. Elise knew she was merely overthinking everything, but it was hard when even her family didn't seem to care too much about her as their letters spoke of the promise to her brother and this wedding. Not one hint of if she was okay. Watching as the other woman reached the window, she found herself furrowing her brow as the question was posed to her, something that had crossed her mind her mind briefly, but it passed by without a second thought. "Well… I had considered it, but I guess I just assumed he was pressured for it by the council." "I'll be brutally honest, my own family and myself included expected this to be a trap and well too good to be true. My father originally threw the offer out to appease the court back home, not for it to be accepted." Leaning forward on her seat as she watched Lady Cheldarine curious to why Ozragad had pursued peace, "Tell me then, why is he pursuing the option of peace? As you say peace doesn't really suit him, not when stories of this fearsome warlord proceeds him."</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "It is as I said, he is not as strong as he seems." Lady Cheldarine sighed and let the curtain she had been holding fall back into place. As she turned back towards Princess Elise a shadow pasted over her face. A look of pain, of sorrow. The look of person remembering something they would much rather forget. "This war, it has destroyed almost everything it touches, and that is true of both your county and mine. But Eorzia is larger and richer, and the land here... well you must have seen it on your journey to the capital. Every Formori fighting is another one taken from the fields. Every fighter that falls in battle needs to be replaced." That expression lingered there across her features once again. From the sleeve of her dress, she drew out a small square of white silk and used it to dab the corner of her amber eyes. She did not fully loose her composure, but it was clear enough that something was clearly affecting her. "My own husband... well, it is common enough story for citizens of both our lands." The handkerchief disappeared once more into whatever secret pocket it had been drawn from. That pained look too disappeared, but away into the other secret pocket all people possess, the one in which they hide the contents of their heart. "But the point is that there are fewer and fewer to work the land, and the land was poor to begin with. Three of our last five harvests have been marred by Ashfall. Without a proper harvest this year, Morganyth will starve. If there is peace then the soldiers can home, they can work the fields, they can get the harvest in." On the journey from Eorzia they had indeed past innumerable empty and barren fields, left fallow once they had entered Morganyth territory. There had been fewer signs of this poverty and privation in the palace where Elise had been staying, but the feast she had attend had indeed been meaner than those in Eorzia. There was often a lack of common foods, such as soft fruits or fresh vegetables. Even the portions of the Formori were mostly smaller than those of the Eorzians. "So you see the dilemma that faces the King? He must have peace before the harvest. Either he risks everything, on one last desperate assault against your family and your Kingdom in order to crush you completely before the autumn, or he negotiates. Now my cousin can be a fool at times, but he is not completely reckless." She walked back towards the Princess and seated herself back down upon the cushions there once more. Her face was grave, she was deadly seriously. "He needs you. He needs the lands and the peace your marriage brings in order to rebuild his country, in order to salvage something from this mess of a war. It is either that or risk defeat and ruination on scale he has thus far avoided. I tell you this not for the love of my country or my people or for the sake of my cousin. I tell you this because I need you to make this marriage work too. I need you to save my sons from this war, because it is they who will be fighting it next if this peace does not work." There was now a desperate edge to her voice. "And it may not seem this way to you now, not after what he has done you. But now you are in Morganyth, you need him. You need Ozragad. My cousin can behave like a monster at times. But he is nothing compared to some of the men who once followed him and oppose the peace now. Men like Zakylwe Ahoraa."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Zakylwe is a leader amongst the Ashlanders, those of my people that make their home in the furthest east, upon the ashen waste. They are a hardy people, they must be to survive, and Zakylwe is hardest of them there is. During the early years of the war he was King Ozragad's most fervent supporter and one of his most trusted generals. And he always argued the course of needless cruelty, death and destruction. You can be sure that when the King burned Novrandt to the ground rather than yield it back to your ancestors, it was at Zakylwe's urging. He would rather destroy something than see his enemy possess it. That is the sort of man Zakylwe Ahorra is." Lady Cheldarine glanced at the door as she spoke, it had already been several minutes since she had send away the serving woman in pursuit of tea. They only had a limited amount of time until their conversation would be observed by Ozragad's spies once again, and it was clearly running out. "I am glad you are willing to try to make the peace between our people's work, your Highness, but I need you to understand the danger you are in should it fail. Zakylwe and other malcontents are moving in secret against the King as we speak. Some of them are Formori of great power and influence. If the King falls and they take power instead... well, I don't think I have to make it clear what they might do to someone like you." The conversation ended with a pregnant pause then, giving them both time to mull over the things that had been left unspoken in the silence. A draught stole into the quiet room, made the flames behind the grate flicker, and had the Lady clutch her shawl tighter about her shoulder's. When she resumed speaking, she did so in a warmer and reassuring tone almost as if in an effort to banish those cold and grim throughts. "But, I am sure it won't come to that. The King will deal with it in time. I imagine my cousin would like to go cut the head off of the snake and put an end to Zakylwe right now. But there is protocol and custom even King's must follow. Formori's abhor kinslaying above all other crimes, our children are few and precious, so to kill a family member is the highest taboo. I myself am protected somewhat from the wrath of the King because we are kin. The same is true with Zakylwe." She frowned a little then as she spoke, as if she was questioning the wisdom of what she was saying even as the words passed her lips. "He is the King's brother-in-law, his sister was Ozragad's first wife."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise fell quiet again as she listened intently to what Laldy Cheldarine was telling her. This Zawylwe sounded like quite a dangerous person as she let her speak eager to learn about this country and its people even if they were out to harm her. "Sounds more like a beast than a man." Unable to stop the words that left her mouth, eyes widened as she placed her hand over them embarrassed that she had allowed herself to speak before she had even thought it through. "Sorry… I really must learn to think before I speak. Not my strong point." Looking over to the door as she watched the other glance to it, she frowned knowing time must be running short, but she still had so many questions to ask and who knew when she would get a chance to speak with Lady Cheldarine in private again. The words left an uncomfortable silence as it was revealed just how much danger she would be in if this failed, her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she could not help the dark thoughts cross it as she thought gravely on what they might do to someone like her. It sent a shiver down her spine and she could say she was honestly fearful for what could happen to her here. It had been a surprise at first knowing this had not been a trap, after all most had assured her, she was being sent to her own death, but now the threat felt more real. "R-Right… no, of course. Just hypothetical." Forcing a smile as she tried to pull herself away from the dark thoughts that had entered her mind. Nodding as the woman said it wouldn't come to that, perhaps it wouldn't and Ozragad would keep her safe especially if he was bound by the marriage treaty. It did guarantee her safety if she went through with it, if ill will happened on her death the war would continue, and nothing would change just a broken treaty to add to the reasons of their war. "What?" Elise couldn't stop the shock on her features, she never knew about the first wife and that alone sprung so many more questions. "Brother-in-law..." Hesitating as she looked at the door herself before snapping her head back to Lady Cheldarine, "What happened to her?" She had to know, not just because of her burning curiosity but for the fact it would probably help in her own survival here. If Lady Cheldarine wouldn't tell her would she even dare to ask King Ozragad? After a few of there interactions she knew how easily she could put her foot in it and asking about a first wife who she could assume was dead as she hadn't seen or heard of the woman before would certainly earn her more discomfort here.</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth A clear look of dawning realisation appeared upon the heart shaped face of Lady Cheldarine. Her hand rose up to cover her mouth as if to prevent the words she had just spoken, amber beaded bangles catching the light of the fire as she did so. But it was too late, the unspoken, deeply buried secret that lingered over the court of Cirith Anyr had been resurrected. Brought back to life by a careless word. "Oh... of course. You would know nothing of her. It was so long ago, before the war even. Her name was Liveuta. She died." There was a sudden crack from one of the burning logs in the hearth that spat sparks into the air. Lady Cheldarine jumped in her seat, eyes casting around the room as if looking for someone. But they were still alone. The serving woman had not yet returned. She took a closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am sorry, I should not have brought her up and you should not either. Especially not to the King. He forbade anyone of speaking her name in his presence many years ago. It is a particularly sore subject for him, when the Queen died she-" The door swung open and instantly Lady Cheldarine switched the subject to something completely different, an inane conversation about which young women at the court she approved of and could make potential matches for her son Elethiomel, and which she had reservations about. The serving woman brought the herbal tea to the table they sat at and it was poured and served to them along with selection of sweetmeats. The serving women returned to her place sitting unobtrusively at the back of the room. They continued to talk for some time, but never about what they had spoken of alone.</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Boys can be so difficult though, especially at his age. Trying to be a man, while still thinking and feeling very much like child. I want someone who will be a good influence. Steadying, perhaps." Lady Cheldarine sighed and sipped at the cup of herbal tea in her hands. She sat back and leaned into the cushioned divan as the Princess spoke of learning about Morganyth and Formori culture. She smiled at the Princess's compliments, with almost a hint of smugness. "Well in the case, we must set a date for you to visit my estate in the city, your Highness. Once all this silly confinement has passed." She gave the Princess a smile at that and a roll of the eyes that went unobserved by their eavesdropper. "Although I assure you, there are many in this Kingdom who are already proud of you, myself foremost among them." The polite and inconsequential conversation between Lady Cheldarine and Princess Elise persisted for sometime after the return of the serving woman. They drank tea, nibbled at biscuits, and made pretence of ladies at leisure for all there to see. But it did not last indefinitely. Eventually there came another knock at the door of the Princess's chambers in the Silver Tower. One of the Princess's guardsmen entered into the sitting room and announced that the Lord Steward, Manawyndan, also sought an audience with Princess Elise. "Ah, it appears the good Lord Steward has gotten word of my impromptu visit, and so quickly too. I do so wonder how?" As she finished speaking with a tone of mock incredulity she gave a throaty laugh and looked directly at the woman sat in the back of the room. "I suppose I had best be on my way then, it would be dreadfully impolite of me to keep the poor old man waiting too long."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was quite content spending her time with Lady Cheldarine, sipping away at the tea and even eating a few biscuits here and there. She had a lot to think about when it came to her engagement with the Warlord, perhaps it was even time to apologise for the behaviour of hers the other day. The stubborn side of her didn't want to be the one to cave first, especially when he had his hands around her throat, she didn't want to appear weak by crawling back with an apology. Pride, however, would not keep her alive so she knew she may have to make that step. "Oh, stop it, you are probably the only one who thinks as much." Elise chuckled to herself finishing off her tea as she placed it back on the table in front of her. If she was honest, she was even surprised that Lady Cheldarine was proud of her, part of her doubted the words but it was nice to hear. Especially when she didn't even have her own ladies of waiting to gossip or discuss with. It had become rather lonesome here, but she wasn't here for herself after all as it was all for the people to stop anymore bloodshed. It seemed though her visit was cut short when there was a knock at the door, looking up as she wondered who else wanted to visit? Elise hadn't expected the visit from Lady Cheldarine let alone anyone else and if she had known she would have worn some more fitting than her pink dress and grey shawl. "My aren't I popular today?" Musing over the idea as she leaned back in the chair of her wondering what had brought all these visits on. "Thank you for the visit, I hope to be able to visit your own estate soon." Offering a soft smile to the other woman whilst subtly hinting to her that she had listened carefully to what they had spoken about and had plans to fix it. Giving a small wave to her guardsmen to signal letting the Manawyndan inside she was curious to know why he was here. After all she hadn't really spoken much with this Lord, but there had to be a reason why he was visiting her whilst she had been confined to her rooms. Sighing softly to herself she sat upright placing a polite smile on her face ready to great him, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth As Lady Cheldarine rose to leave the Princess's chambers, her other visitor entered at the same time. Lord Manawyndan, the King's right hand, and perhaps the second most powerful person in Morganyth. The pair of them made for a striking contrast. While the Lady made up in bright orange and greens, the Lord was dressed in sombre black. His iron grey hair was as closely cropped as his dark clothing was tightly fitted. Despite his grandfatherly visage, the old man was still fit and trim. It seemed the cut of his clothes was his only concession to vanity, for other than that there was no hint of adornment or finery on his outfit. "Ah, My Lady, leaving so soon I see? Such a shame, I hoped to catch you." His voice was dry and rasping. It was not necessarily stern, but it lacked a variation in tone or cadence that made it seem serious. It was a voice that suited its owner eminently. "Why yes, Lord Steward. Only a fleeting and impromptu visit I'm afraid, I must be getting back to my own responsibilities." Lady Cheldarine demurred, but Manawyndan only fixed her with his dark eyes more intently. "An impromptu visit that happened to be while both the King and myself were busy in council?" Lady Cheldarine smiled at the old soldier, as if he were making some kind of joke. The two of them both took a step towards each other, so they only inches apart. She was tall for a woman and Manawyndan was of no great height himself, so their eyes were near level. Their gazes fixed upon one another. The tension between them was palpable. "My Lord, you are too suspicious." "That is my responsibility." The Lord Steward sighed and broke eye contact with the Formori woman. There was a curl to lip of Lady Cheldarine, she looked like she had just won some small victory. When she spoke next she was animated. "Well... unless you wish to share your suspicions with me, I must be one my way. Farewell, your Highness, and good day to you Lord Steward." Lady Cheldarine curtsied towards Princess Elise and then went to leave the room without a second glance at the second visitor. But the dry rasp of Manawyndan's raised voice stopped her dead in her tracks as she went to do so. "Oh actually, there was one thing I wanted to talk about, My Lady. Your son." She turned around slowly, to face Manawyndan, who's face now had the same small look of triumph on it that she herself had worn so recently. There was a tightness about her, the playful nature with which she had batted away the older Formori's previous insinuations was gone. "Peibio?" "No, My Lady. Elethiomel. I take you he has not told you then?" Manawyndan's smile grew wider. "He came to the Palace to volunteer his services to the King and the council. After all, is it not strange for a boy of his age not to have served at court yet? Hardly seems fair considering his younger brother is the royal cupbearer." "I always intended to send him to court... but plans change... his father... I wanted to keep him close." "You feelings do you credit as a Mother. Still, I think it would be wise to let the boy see something of the governance of the realm, he is the heir to a powerful house. But I haven't yet decided what exactly to do with him. There are many ways a young man might serve his King, on or off the field of battle. Do you see my reasoning?" When she spoke next the Lady's words were like shards of ice. Cold, sharp and deadly. "I see it clearly, Lord Steward." "Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, please." With a gnarled finger he motioned over to where the Princess was sitting, observing the furious exchange they had just engaged in. The Lady's eyes drifted over towards Elise, she nodded her head in submission and swiftly walked out of the door. Manawyndan seemed to visibly relax as she left, his shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh, the end of which was cut off by a small fit of coughing. "My apologies, Your Highness, for getting so distracted. Might I have a take a seat with you? Old bones."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but watch the exchange, eyes looking from the pair and she could tell with the undertones there was some sort of fight for power between them. It was like being back at home in her own court watching as others tried to gain some sort of upper hand over the over, little jibes and comments that to any onlooker would seem pleasant when there was a darker truth beneath them. Remembering how her brother would often tell her that keeping up appearances meant everything, that you should never divulge your true thoughts or feelings unless absolutely necessary. Not that I followed that when speaking with Lady Cheldarine earlier, but I didn't sense any danger. Unless I am truly being played whilst here. Frowning ever so slightly at her own thoughts as she continued to listen on. This impromptu visit happened whilst both he and the King were busy, she didn't want them to know she was here? Or that I am being spied upon whilst here as the talk was brisk. I still have many unanswered questions. Realising she had been frowning she placed her polite pleasant smile back on her face before anyone could notice, it seemed that both Manawyndan and Cheldarine were too busy butting heads so to speak. "Farewell Lady Cheldarine." Smiling as she began to bid the other a goodbye only to find herself caught by Manawydan once more as he didn't let the Formori woman win their little battle. What the elder man had said had clearly struck a chord with Cheldarine and even she had picked up on what she felt to be a quite threatening undertone aiming it towards the eldest son of hers. Elise knew that this woman was proud of her sons, she spoke so highly of them and she had remembered the proud tone of the woman at the feast a good few nights ago as they had spoke with one another. Sympathising with Lady Cheldarine she felt like she should say something, reassure the woman but it wouldn't help any sort of matter. That and being as she held no power here, she kept her mouth shut knowing that it was best to let Lady Cheldarine fight her own battles, the woman was well versed with things like court and Elise knew she would probably just make matters worse rather than help it. Nodding with a soft smile as Lady Cheldarine finally excused herself once more, she turned to Manawydan who had relaxed now the woman was gone, curious as to why he felt so tense around the Formori she knew it was best not to ask such a thing. Again, she found herself frowning when he began to have a small coughing fit, sitting forward she motioned for the server who was still hanging around in the background. "Would you kindly fetch us more tea? Perhaps some water for Lord Manawyndan." Glancing towards the Lord who had come to visit her just after her visit from Lady Cheldarine. "Of course, take a seat." Gesturing to the sofa before she folded her arms across her chest watching him carefully, wondering what had spurred his visit. "I daresay I was not expecting a visit from yourself, but it is welcomed." Knowing deep down there had to be some motive behind it, maybe he had only visited to shoo Cheldarine away. Perhaps he didn't want them talking with one another too much, but then she could just be overthinking things. It was hard not too when surrounded by a foreign place. "What do I owe this pleasure?" Elise kept her guard up around him, there was something she didn't quite like and she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "You are too kind, your Highness." The old lord said as he seated himself opposite the Princess and a fresh cup of tea was poured for him upon the table between them. He returned her own watchful gaze as the refreshments were reset. Apart from a very brief conversation the night of the Princess's arrival to the city, they had not really spoken to one another before. Manawyndan had been seating on the other side of the King at the feast, and there had been few courtly events or functions in the times since. Perhaps they both had some reason to be wary of each other. It was partly Manawyndan's machinations that had brought the Princess to Morganyth, but he had yet to gauge her character, and now he found other actors potentially trying to use her to their own ends. "It has been a morning for unexpected visits then. Did you discuss anything of import with Lady Cheldarine?" He took a sip of the tea that had been poured for him, the delicate cup sitting incongruously in his gnarled and callused hands. When he returned the cup to its saucer, the smile that parted his lips was pleasant enough, but his dark bronze eyes did not match it. "I will be plain with you, Princess Elise. You have had time to... reconsider... certain decisions you made in regards to your upcoming marriage to the King. My purpose in coming here today is to see if you have come to a more... reasonable... position?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise just flashed Manawydan a polite smile at his compliment of her being too kind, she was sure he was just being polite with her as she had ordered new refreshments for them both. Leaning forward she picked up her own cup of tea to hold it in her hands so she could enjoy the warmth more than anything. Manawydan had to be here with an agenda after all and she just had a feeling it had to do with Ozragad, that's why everyone had visited her so far this evening. "Quite, if I'd have known I would have dressed up." Elise spoke simply as she swept her gaze across the room before falling back on the Lord, "Oh you know, just idle gossip. Lady Cheldarine was telling me all about her sons, the idea of setting them up marriages." Waving it off as if they had just spent the day chatting like most of the ladies in court would. "I think she was just being kind seeing as I have not been able to engage in much conversation over here and I showed interest when speaking with her at the feast the other day." Giving away no hint that they would have discussed anything else, after all she did not personally trust this man and she feared she could get the woman into more trouble when she had been trying to help her. Elise could see the smile that didn't reach his lips, but she wouldn't slip up not whilst here within enemy walls. Lifting the cup to her lips she took a sip of the tea watching him over the rim of her cup as he approached the reason why he was here. Tapping her finger against the cup she let the words sit for a moment before she rested it back on her lap, she knew she shouldn't be surprised to find out that Manawydan knew of her and King Ozragads disagreement. This Lord had to be a part of the council and perhaps Ozragad was already coming up with plans to kill her off and be done with it after her refusal to marry him. "I have had plenty of time to consider my options. Yes." Making it sound like it had been her decision, it hadn't but regardless she found it that it irked her that he assumed she had come to a reasonable position. King Ozragad practically had her life in his hands, for a moment she had thought he would just strangle her to death, but no she had to be the reasonable one. "I must have been feeling quite under the weather at the time, homesick perhaps." Elise picked her words carefully, that she had been unwell and that was why she had denied marrying the warlord. "Certain decisions should have not been made in that state. I was looking to seek an audience with him to discuss it."</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise knew she had to keep her wits about her when it came to this councillor, the way he had shut Lady Cheldarine down had struck a chord with her and she had a feeling that he had a lot more in this plan than met the eye. Perhaps she was just being far too suspicious of everyone around her, but that wasn't a bad thing when she was practically surrounded by wolves who could kill her in a heartbeat. "That is… wonderful." Trying to keep her smile in place as he said how the King would be receptive to that idea, or perhaps he was just waiting for another moment to wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life out of her. Unable to tell if Manawyndan was truly happy about the decision she watched the smile and it looked honest enough, no ill will behind it. "O-Oh." Caught off guard by the fact he was willing to go now, she hadn't expected it but maybe it was best to go bury the hatchet whilst he was on agreeable terms as the Lord had said. Even though he had offered her to take time to prepare she didn't feel like it was an option as already it looked like he was ready to go, eager to fix their fight. "No need." Waving it down as she came to her decision that it was best to resolve it now, as much as she would have loved to have been dressed to the nines it didn't feel all that important. "If we are to be married, he will see me in casual attire, so I will not change for the audience with him." Leaning forward as she placed her cup back on the table knowing the server would clean it up whilst they were gone. Rising to her feet she brushed the simple pale pink dress down as she kept the grey shawl wrapped round her shoulders debating on if she should take it. Considering the options, she felt it was better to take it, she could hide her hands beneath the fabric, and he would not be able to see her fiddling with the shawl. Plus, it would keep the cool air at bay, something that she had started to feel more lately which she put down to lack of sleeping. "Of course, if it's no bother I take it you would like to leave now?" Giving him a smile, she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of it being a private audience with a few trusted councillors. Whether it was for her benefit or not she hated the idea that she would have to back down in front of others when she really didn't want too, but on another hand perhaps them being there would make him think twice about strangling her. The marks had faded, but when caught in the right light could be seen to those who were looking for them, after all Lady Cheldarine had caught on to them so easily but Elise knew she had subconsciously touched her neck there giving it attention. "Are you certain he will not mind a visit now? Without any sort of warning?"</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "That would indeed be my preference, Your Highness. His Majesty devotes his mornings to dealing with matters of state. And this is a matter of state, is it not?" The old Formori phrased the statement like it was a question, a single brow raising slightly as he did so. "After all, this is not some ordinary lovers quarrel, Your Highness." As he spoke, Manawyndan's eyes lingered over the Princess's neck as she subconsciously stroked the marks from Ozragad's attack in library that had only occurred a few days earlier. He quickly averted them, and awkwardly coughed into his hand to try and disguise the movement. The very sight of them seemed to be something of an embarrassment to him. If you wish, you maybe bring any number of your guard with you, to ensure your... physical wellbeing. It shan't be necessary, I assure you, but if it would make you feel more... comfortable... then, please. And please, Your Highness, forgive my earlier choice of words, it was to my intent to offend." Carefully, the old man got to his feet and gave a slight bow to the Princess. "I will await you outside your chambers." He left the Princess's sitting room, quietly sighing as he went. --- Across the palace, in the chamber in which his council met, King Ozragad was seated at the head of long polished table of dark wood. One wall was dominated by a series of high narrow windows that looked down on the city below. Opposite them, on the other side of the hall was a series statues stood upon plinths and set back in niches, all carved in the likeness of dead Formori Kings and Queens. The King sat alone, save for the statues. The council dismissed for the morning in order to work on their own tasks while Ozragad continued to pour over the drafts of new documents, laws, and decrees they had been formulating. It was another part of the process of peace. How would Eorzia and Morganyth trade now they were no longer at war? What exports and imports would be subject to additional tariffs and taxes, which would be exempt from said duties. It was tedious. But it was necessary. It certainly seemed easier to take it all by the sword. Frankly more exciting too. But no, that was all done with now. Well... for now. His councillors had impressed upon him that good trading relations with their neighbour would be one of the quickest ways to ensure his treasure was refilled and his people well fed. So swallow his pride he must, and write laws for Eorzian merchants. And it could all still be for nothing... Ozragad set his quill down and rested his head in his hands, his elbows sitting atop the stacked parchments below. It was true, it could come to nothing. There was still no guarantee that the Eorzian Princess would have given into his threating demands. What would do then? Launch a war he knew he most likely couldn't win or reveal it was all bluff and beg for her forgiveness? The forgiveness of a child a fraction of his age, a child descended from those who had been the destroyers of his people. Gods, what a cruel joke. No, he had to trust that she was just making a show of resisting him. Still at the time it hadn't felt like she had just been putting on an act, that anger, staring death in the face. Manawyndan had been furious when Ozragad had told him what he had done. Rightly so perhaps, it had been nothing more than pride, anger, and spite that had begun that quarrel. And how had he decided to resolve it? Through threats of violence and butchery. Not an auspicious beginning to a peaceful marriage and a peaceful age. Is this really the sort of man you are? Manawyndan and some of his other councillors had been trying to talk him into making conciliatory gestures for half the morning. He had resisted their calls thus far, but for how long? There was a timetable to this betrothal, and the longer this went on the sooner word would get back to Eorzia that all was not going well. In the end he had met them half way, he would send Manawyndan in his stead, that way it wouldn't seem as if he was wavering... at least, he hoped it wouldn't. As the King mulled all of these problems over, he was surprised by the sound of someone knocking at the door to the council chamber. He wasn't expecting anyone until the afternoon when the servants would lay out a light repast before he took petitions in the throne room. "Enter." Ozragad commanded.</s>
<\|description\|>Léon Reverdin Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Human Rank: 4 of Cups Appearance: His normal appearance standing at 5'9", is more akin to that of a young Mayonite seminarian or scholar, rather than a hammer-toting cleric. When fully garbed in the attire of a shrine keeper, he seems like a different person. Personality: Having spent much of his life studying with the Mayonite church, Léon is personally familiar with hardship but not tragedy. He comes off as trusting and idealistic, but is not oblivious to the evils of the world, especially those that it is the duty of the Twin Churches to oppose. He isn't particularly adventurous or bold and perhaps is even a little apprehensive about stepping into caverns and dungeons, but it is Mayon's will, thus it is Léon's duty to carry it out even if it's not what he signed up for. Brief Backstory: The keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull are a small group of of Mayonite clerics in Estival who maintain and guard a remote reliquary honoring Saint Elionne, a saint renowned for her deeds of heroism. When the shrine was first built, acquiring a relic to inspire pilgrims proved difficult because all of Elionne's possessions were in the hands of the Iron Roses, the knightly order that she had founded and led. The clerics were unable to convince the Iron Roses to hand anything over, but they managed to obtain what they felt to be a passable substitute- the skull of Volkstraad, the dragon that Saint Elionne had slain, still bearing the piercing from the fatal blow struck by the Starlight Sword. The skull was taken to Estival and placed in the shrine so that pilgrims could look upon the saint's handiwork. While initially viewed as little more than a consolation prize, the skull became a revered symbol for the shrine and its clerics, and in time they took on a dragon motif in honor of it. Due to the shrine's remote location and the ever-present threat of thieves, bandits, or anyone with a grudge against Elionne, Mayon, or the Iron Roses, the keepers of the shrine adopted a martial tradition, training rigorously with maces and hammers to ensure the safety of pilgrims, the sanctity of the reliquary, and the security of its relic. Léon was born to a poor but devout family in Estival. When he was a child, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Pierced Skull. He was awed not only by the relic itself, but also by the helmeted, hammer-wielding warrior-clerics who stood vigil over the shrine and its contents, and the image stuck in his head for years. His parents were quite pleased with the though of their son joining the clergy, and worked hard to give him the opportunity to do so. Many of his younger years were spent serving as an acolyte for the church, and when he was old enough, he formally became a cleric novice. During his studies, he specifically requested to be assigned to the shrine that had left such an impression on him, despite it being effectively a backwater assignment with little opportunity for upward mobility in the church. After several more years of scrubbing the shrine floors, rigorous martial training, and theological and magical study, he was ordained and granted the arms and vestments of a shrine keeper. After a brief period of service, Léon was called to perform an unusual duty- the local Mayonite clergy had asked the shrine to spare someone to assist the Estival Adventurer's Guild and as the most junior keeper, he was picked. His duties were to spread the light of Mayon, lend his skills as a cleric to the adventurers, and in the process search the dark corners of the world for evidence of Elionne or any relics connected to her. It sounded like a bit more excitement than he had expected for his station, but he couldn't let Mayon down, so he set out to join the guild. Equipment: When adventuring or on duty, Léon wears the protective vestments and helmet of the shrine keepers, and wields a war hammer, their iconic weapon. He also carries a scepter topped with a perched dragon, serving as his spell catalyst, and can double as a light mace in a pinch. Skills: As a cleric of Mayon, Léon is trained in the use of magic to aid others. He can close wounds, ward allies from various forms of harm, and strengthen them spiritually, mentally, or physically. His skill in this is only enough, however, to be ranked a 4 of Cups. A better fighter than a healer, Léon's forte is his martial skill as a shrine keeper. He is a capable fighter with his warhammer, able to swing the heavy weapon far more adeptly and deftly than his appearance outside of his keeper attire would suggest. He also has a formal education in history and theology pertaining to the Church of Mayon.</s> <\|message\|>Tristram Ullr @Krayzikk@PaulHaynek@Heartfillia The door to the hall, as always, opened unceremoniously in comparison to the ruckus abound at its front. Well, that's gonna take a bit to clear out. It was certainly an apt descriptor of the man that floated in afterwards, "unceremonious". It bled through his every movement, from the quiet, casual gait to the plain greens and browns of his humble clothing. The burlap sack held in his right hand swung freely as he ambled on in, and there was little expression any could read on his face as he scanned the hordes of swarming adventurers. Chiefly because there was no way anyone could see his face to begin with. It was as much a mystery as Jane Doe's, off there in the corner fretting over some sort of paperwork. A woman in full armor, her helm was as omnipresent as his hood, even during tiny, menial tasks like that. Her story was that she had a truly grotesque visage, and concealed her horrid looks for fear of getting run out of town. Again. While he wasn't sure somebody that ugly could exist— and he'd seen some hideous bastards as a mercenary— his reasoning for the concealment was much simpler. Rather than a kindness to the world, sparing them of a cursed form, it was a particularly selfish and churlish thing, borne from a realization when wearing a mask of plain leather for five years prior. He knew that people would go great lengths to see it, so... By now it's just funny. In any case, it was clear that he was at home here, in this loud and chaotic hall. He continued on after he spared a glance towards the lonesome woman, unfettered by the clamor, and his concealed eyes quickly pierced through the milling mass to settle upon an admittedly already distinct pair. That sunset blonde hair, for instance, never stood still long enough to not notice. She made for a good reference point as he took a long path around, unwilling to try and fight his way through all those people just for the sake of a straight line. Good reference point... And a horrible financial demon. There was a reason he'd waited until now to show himself, and it squarely belonged to her, Cassia van Zyl. Sure, the half-elf was at first glance cute, but make no mistake— if you left her and your gold in a room together for five minutes, all you'd return to was some bread crumbs on the floor. She was a master at losing money, had no financial responsibility whatsoever. Of course he wasn't gonna let her in on where he went! And the thunderhead in blue wasn't someone you should let fool you either, but when it came to this moment, Sigi and her northerly background would have been far more reliable than the mercurial, eternally broke, and seemingly insatiable Cass. Would have been, if she wasn't asleep when he had the window to make it to town unmolested... She'd die down past Thaln. So he'd gone alone. They were, honestly, really lucky to have him around. Were it not for him, they'd be destitute, homeless, vagrants without a penny to their name or a meal in their stomachs after one wasted it all when the other couldn't bring themself to rein them in. They really should listen to what he said more. For instance. "Don't feed the animals, Sieglinde." a gruff voice sounded out from behind the woman with one of the largest blades in the room. "It makes 'em depend on you. They never learn to fend for themselves." Cassia was very clearly, despite a lack of eye contact, being either looked at or stared down, depending on how she interpreted his body language. Sieglinde, the owner of the dubious yet well-earned position of "second-most-reliable person in the party", received an unceremonious (there's that word again, see?) clap on the back to drive his words home. Finn... Meh.</s> <\|message\|>Sophie Velmet "Ah?!" The sound came, unbidden, from Sophie's lips, as someone considerably larger than herself stumbled into her from behind. The impact rattled her armor and caused her stagger forward, nearly colliding with the wall. In that instant, fury almost immediately rose in her heart. Really?! He couldn't possibly see that there was someone there?! Only an idiot would manage to miss that entirely. Only someone truly, completely, and utterly stupid could possibly fail to realize that there was someone there and that they shouldn't charge up like a complete moron! The small, purple-haired girl was aware that one of the guild workers, obviously a Nem, had already begun to lay into him. When she turned around, it didn't take too long for her to realize who it was. That oversized, stupid dog! Why was he so tall!? Weren't hundi supposed to be short?! Needless to say, the rapidly-mounting anger building up in the core of Sophie's small frame required some kind of immediate release. "You idiot!" snapped the diminutive adventurer, "Couldn't you see someone was here already?! Hmph! As if a true adventurer would be so braindead and ignorant about their surroundings as to blunder around like that! If you have to get right up next to the board to look at the avaliable jobs, wait your turn, moron!" With that, the Sophie rounded on her heel, her gaze now so intensely fixed on the board that she was practically staring a hole through it. Anyone even slightly familiar with the axe-wielding adventurer would know that she was rather tempermental, so perhaps this wasn't exactly surprising. @ghastlyInc</s>	<\|message\|>Léon Reverdin It appears I have arrived just in time for the new jobs to be posted. A young man stepped through the door, carrying a small basket with a few pieces of fruit. The first thing he noticed when he entered was the crowding around the job board, and the commotion coming from there. He had arrived too late to know what had happened exactly, so he wasn't quite sure why Sophie was going off on a tirade, although it sounded like someone bumped into her trying to be one of the first to get to the job board. It wasn't really any of Léon's business, and either way he wasn't in any rush to get to the job board. Currently, his only concern was finding a place where he could sit down and eat his breakfast in peace. After looking around a bit, he spotted a mostly-unoccupied table in the corner, occupied only by Jane with a neat stack of papers. More jobs for the board, perhaps? It didn't matter too much to Léon. Even if there wasn't another wave of jobs to be posted, he saw little need to trip over himself (potentially earning himself a verbal beatdown in the process) to get first dibs on a quest. Léon's abilities to heal, bless, and ward were always in high demand in the guild, even for a lowly 4 of Cups like himself. Truth be told, he was better at swinging his hammer and scepter than healing or blessing, but he reckoned he'd have more opportunity to get into a party as a 4 of Cups than as a 5 of Swords. Of Jane himself, he knew very little of her, other than what everyone did. She was a 4, same rank as him, and seemed more comfortable with doing Guild chores than adventuring. Other than that, she was a closed book, a reclusive fellow who never discussed her past and never showed her face due to having suffered some sort of gruesome injury that left her face disfigured prior to joining the guild. Whatever her past was, her armor and weapons seemed to be of fairly good quality, far better than would be expected for a guild errand girl. Poor Jane. Whatever happened to her, she still seems pained by it, he observed, briefly looking down at the Mayonite holy symbol he wore around his neck. From what he had observed of Jane, her pain seemed to run far more deeply than the physical disfigurement that prompted her to never show her face. Undoing the grisly damage to her visage was no doubt beyond his ability, but perhaps if she could be brought to know the comforting grace of Mayon, whatever spiritual scars that seemed to afflict her could be healed. In the very least, if her injuries carried with them constant physical pain, he could at least be able to temporarily alleviate that. Either way, he needed some place to sit. Léon strode over to the table and sat down opposite Jane. He removed the fruits from his basket and placed them in front of him, careful as to not disrupt her stack of papers. He gripped his Mayonite symbol with his right hand, silently calling upon the Goddess for support. Mayon, Goddess of the Moon, please help guide me as I endeavor to aid this pained soul. "Good morning, Jane," he said to her, trying his best to be friendly. He was about to make small talk by asking about the papers, but he stopped himself. No, if I do that, it'll sound like I'm just trying to get first dibs at the jobs. Best not to mention that at all. "Are you hungry? Would you care for some food?" he asked, after an awkward silence of trying to figure out what to say. It was true that she couldn't exactly eat in anyone's presence, not with that helmet on, but the gesture couldn't hurt.</s>
<\|description\|>Léon Reverdin Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Human Rank: 4 of Cups Appearance: His normal appearance standing at 5'9", is more akin to that of a young Mayonite seminarian or scholar, rather than a hammer-toting cleric. When fully garbed in the attire of a shrine keeper, he seems like a different person. Personality: Having spent much of his life studying with the Mayonite church, Léon is personally familiar with hardship but not tragedy. He comes off as trusting and idealistic, but is not oblivious to the evils of the world, especially those that it is the duty of the Twin Churches to oppose. He isn't particularly adventurous or bold and perhaps is even a little apprehensive about stepping into caverns and dungeons, but it is Mayon's will, thus it is Léon's duty to carry it out even if it's not what he signed up for. Brief Backstory: The keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull are a small group of of Mayonite clerics in Estival who maintain and guard a remote reliquary honoring Saint Elionne, a saint renowned for her deeds of heroism. When the shrine was first built, acquiring a relic to inspire pilgrims proved difficult because all of Elionne's possessions were in the hands of the Iron Roses, the knightly order that she had founded and led. The clerics were unable to convince the Iron Roses to hand anything over, but they managed to obtain what they felt to be a passable substitute- the skull of Volkstraad, the dragon that Saint Elionne had slain, still bearing the piercing from the fatal blow struck by the Starlight Sword. The skull was taken to Estival and placed in the shrine so that pilgrims could look upon the saint's handiwork. While initially viewed as little more than a consolation prize, the skull became a revered symbol for the shrine and its clerics, and in time they took on a dragon motif in honor of it. Due to the shrine's remote location and the ever-present threat of thieves, bandits, or anyone with a grudge against Elionne, Mayon, or the Iron Roses, the keepers of the shrine adopted a martial tradition, training rigorously with maces and hammers to ensure the safety of pilgrims, the sanctity of the reliquary, and the security of its relic. Léon was born to a poor but devout family in Estival. When he was a child, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Pierced Skull. He was awed not only by the relic itself, but also by the helmeted, hammer-wielding warrior-clerics who stood vigil over the shrine and its contents, and the image stuck in his head for years. His parents were quite pleased with the though of their son joining the clergy, and worked hard to give him the opportunity to do so. Many of his younger years were spent serving as an acolyte for the church, and when he was old enough, he formally became a cleric novice. During his studies, he specifically requested to be assigned to the shrine that had left such an impression on him, despite it being effectively a backwater assignment with little opportunity for upward mobility in the church. After several more years of scrubbing the shrine floors, rigorous martial training, and theological and magical study, he was ordained and granted the arms and vestments of a shrine keeper. After a brief period of service, Léon was called to perform an unusual duty- the local Mayonite clergy had asked the shrine to spare someone to assist the Estival Adventurer's Guild and as the most junior keeper, he was picked. His duties were to spread the light of Mayon, lend his skills as a cleric to the adventurers, and in the process search the dark corners of the world for evidence of Elionne or any relics connected to her. It sounded like a bit more excitement than he had expected for his station, but he couldn't let Mayon down, so he set out to join the guild. Equipment: When adventuring or on duty, Léon wears the protective vestments and helmet of the shrine keepers, and wields a war hammer, their iconic weapon. He also carries a scepter topped with a perched dragon, serving as his spell catalyst, and can double as a light mace in a pinch. Skills: As a cleric of Mayon, Léon is trained in the use of magic to aid others. He can close wounds, ward allies from various forms of harm, and strengthen them spiritually, mentally, or physically. His skill in this is only enough, however, to be ranked a 4 of Cups. A better fighter than a healer, Léon's forte is his martial skill as a shrine keeper. He is a capable fighter with his warhammer, able to swing the heavy weapon far more adeptly and deftly than his appearance outside of his keeper attire would suggest. He also has a formal education in history and theology pertaining to the Church of Mayon.</s> <\|message\|>Shir Anders Shir had been about to respond when they were interrupted by another adventurer. She looked from him to the stack of cards and back. "Were were actually about to start a game of cards." She gestured at the table. "We were actually about to enjoy a game of cards, perhaps someone else might actually be interested in you joining them..." She gave him a pointed look before turning back to the Hundi couple and gestured for Corrine to deal out hands. She had little patience for someone so blunt that they wouldn't try to have a conversation before trying to work their way into a group. The shadow by her side continued to stare at him for a moment longer before turning away with a dismissive shrug. One of the two looked more suited to be working a business in a city than adventuring. Her partner looked decidedly more dangerous and possibly carried the other one through jobs. The first one was likely another mage, possibly of some power since she had partnered with someone that looked as competent as the second. "I am merely very pale, no need to worry about my health but I unfortunately sunburn easily on such bright days." She gestured to the shadow. "I do much better in the dark. Maybe we could spend some time here and see what the evening brings." @Raineh Daze</s> <\|message\|>Nehir Rasim Nehir "Oh uh...nemmish uh..." Nehir sputtered, somewhat taken a back by the language. He spoke it though hardly with as much proficiency as he really aught to. Estival WAS home to a few Nem towns, though it was often just easier to use the common language. He'd really only ever spoke it with his family back home, his mother insistent that he and his younger sister learn at least the basics. "Safas ma tasu. Ahs da yar-ei Nehir. You'll uh...have to forgive me. A little rusty with that tongue." He says flushing slightly, his native accent slightly butchering his pronunciation. He took a good look at the girl as she landed. She was a little taller than him he noted, his pride wounding a little. She had looked shorter a moment ago atop the knight he'd sworn...That aside, it was harder to tell how fit she was, her cloak pulled tightly around herself like that. But with that sword strapped to her, Nehir was very much doubtful she was as bad in a fight as she said. That thing was gorgeous! It had to have cost as much as two of his scepters! "I'd be more than happy to have you along Nefrena!" Nehir said, quickly tearing his eyes away from the sword, not wanting to be rude. "It's rare to have another Nem in the party, so I'm looking forward to working with you." He added with a small bow. "And don't worry about the fighting. I'm kind of specialized in that area...So if anything, you're doing me a huge favor. Magic as a weapon is a bit useless if I don't have a clue where to aim it." He said, hoping to bolster the girls enthusiasm for the job and knowing how it felt to think you were the dead weight in the group. His eyes widened a moment later before he hastily added, "N-not that I'll be aiming at YOU of course! That'd be silly!" he gasped, hoping the girl hadn't yet caught wind (metaphorically or otherwise) of his somewhat mixed reputation. @Rune_Alchemist</s> <\|message\|>Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges Corinne and Liliane "As she said, we're just playing cards," Liliane stated, wondering exactly how the man had so quickly decided that they must be working together by dint of sitting together. This was a good table for cardgames and it was unlikely that anyone experienced hadn't noticed it once or twice. Or maybe this was one of those workaholic types. "You can join if you wish; it's a little early in the day for gambling anything, of course." Mostly because once people had time to start drinking, they liked to gamble a lot more. The white-haired Hundi dealt out the deck swiftly, including a pile in the middle and one deck face down--if Rowan declined to join in, then it would be up to Corinne to join in... and no doubt lose hopelessly, but the other two of them would no doubt have a good enough time. Corinne, on the other hand, shuffled over a little so as to not see the cards if she had to join in, picking her staff up from the ground between the two as she did so. "Ah, I am sorry, mademoiselle. I 'ope I did not offend you too badly..." She did perk up at the mention of a party, though from the way her eyes glanced over towards her more boyish partner it was obvious this wasn't for any adventuring reason and instead some personal pride. "Non, we are not a party. Liliane 'ere is my wife before my adventuring companion. We should introduce ourselves, yes? I am Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges." @Vec</s>	<\|message\|>Léon Reverdin Jane was as distant as ever. N-No. I've... already eaten. These are the uhh, more quests for the board. Would you-- like to take a look at them?" "I appreciate it, Jane," Léon answered, "But I suppose I wouldn't feel right about getting first peek at them before they're posted. I try not to worry too much about getting to jobs first. Being a Cup, it's easy enough to find a group in need of my talents." As far as adventurers went, Léon wasn't particularly adventurous- he had only joined the guild at the behest of the Church of Mayon, and hadn't been particularly proactive in finding ways to risk his life- mostly he just tagged along in the not-uncommon event that a group needed a healer. Did I snub her, he asked himself after giving his reply. Was it inconsiderate of me to not take up her offer? Léon felt a wave of worry wash over him. He didn't want to make someone feel even worse. "Tell you what, I'll take a look at the ones you already put on the board," he spoke, basically muttering the first thing he came up with. "Hopefully there'll be something suitable for 4's like us. You're welcome to any of my food in the meantime." Léon got out of his seat, leaving his food on the table. He didn't really care much for the jobs themselves, it was mostly just to try and conclude this conversation in a somewhat natural manner. The cleric made his way to the board. Because of the crowding, it took a while for him to get there. Sophie's tirade from earlier gave him ample motivation to take it slow and not bump into anyone, so it was slow going. Some of the others were getting creative to look at the board- Mellifleur's undead thrall was lifting a female Nem mage, Nefrena if he recalled correctly, onto its shoulders so she could see the board. While he was at first enormously apprehensive about a necromancer parading around a skeletal minion, he had become accustomed to its presence. He had never asked about it, largely because both Léon and the skeleton's controller were both Cups, it was unlikely for them to end up in a group together. After taking more time than he'd have liked, Léon finally got close enough to the board to look at the jobs. He looked over the postings, more curious than anything at this point. Some were above his ranking, some were below, and a few were within it. Orc hunting, probably not. Escort duty, probably pretty easy but looks pretty long. Disappearances, sounds risky, not to mention no clue what I'd be getting into. But wait, what's this? His eyes practically lit up when he saw the fourth and final job within his rank. A monastery lost since the war against Orodrunn has been located and the church is willing to pay handsomely for any artefacts recovered...yes, YES! It mentioned being potentially risky, but he didn't care. It was a church job, and an artifact recovery one at that. In just a moment, Léon's apathetic demeanor disappeared, replaced by motivation and determination to see this particular job through. He snatched the paper from the board and took it with him as he made his way back through the crowds to the table in the corner, where Jane still was. It wasn't enough to take a job, he'd need to find at least three other people to bring along, and he knew where he could find at least one adventurer who hadn't yet joined up on a job. "Remember how I said I was just content to wait till others ask me to come along on a job? Well I was wrong," he spoke to Jane, much more upbeat, as he placed the paper on the table. "They posted a job from the Church to excavate artifacts from a recently rediscovered monastary ruin, and I feel it's my duty as a cleric of Mayon to ensure that this job is fulfilled. I won't be able to do it without a decent party, however, and I haven't seen you mingling with the others, would you like to join after you've finished posting the next batch of jobs? I could use a Sword, and could also use some help putting a party together."</s>
<\|description\|>Min-a Suhmoon Min-a Suhmoon "We built the world just to burn it to the ground." Gender: Female \| She/Her Age: 15 Birthday: August 27th Appearance Hair: A cool brunette Eyes: A charcoal brown Height: 5'6" Other: Has a constant look of skepticism in her eyes. She has a scar at the nape of her neck, down towards her right shoulder blade. She has long legs and her body type has been called 'model-like', meaning she is quite slender but still athletic. Has light freckles in the summer. Personality: • Flippant • Intrepid • Skeptical • Min-a may be courageous, however her disrespectful attitude has been known to get her in trouble. She is known for her stubborn persona, along with always being someone whom stands up for others. She has a slight disregard for authority, however, she does listen well if she knows there will be severe consequences to her actions. She has a morbid and cynical view of the world, and believes most people are made of evil. It is incredibly hard for anyone to gain the trust of Min-a. Strengths: * High Endurance * Running * Lock-picking * Inventive Weaknesses: * Weak with hand to hand combat * Dyslexic * Fear of the dark * Impulsive Likes: * Singing/Music * Running * Sparring, even if she is terrible. * Learning new skills * Collecting of memorabilia Dislikes: * Boring people * Spineless people * The dark * Snobs * Religion Fears: * Complete darkness * To feel useless * Finding a connection, then subsequently losing said connection Power: ORANGE - Can read thoughts and understand intentions of others. Can also see the dreams of others, however she does not know this. Family: Kang-min Suhmoon - Father - 47 - Dead Mi-yeon Suhmoon - Mother - 36 - Alive - Is currently in hiding with various children whom have escaped. Min-a does not know this - Yoo-na Suhmoon- Sister - 11 - Dead - History: Min-a was born in Seoul, South Korea, before migrating to the USA as a infant. She grew up in what most would consider the 'ghetto', as her family did not have the means to survive in a middle-class environment. Her father was a strict man, who always claimed to have a higher sense of morals. This came to be untrue, as he was murdered in a drug deal gone wrong when Min-a was at the age of 7. Min-a's mother picked up the slack afterwards, caring for both of her daughters as well as she could. Min-a didn't consider her life bad, however, when IAAN struck, everything she considered 'normal' was torn apart, right in front of her eyes. Min-a's sister, Yoo-na, was one of the first in their area to fall sick. She did not make it, to Min-a's dismay. A few days after the death of her sister, Min-a started to hear the fragmented voices of others, causing her to think of herself as mentally unwell. That was until the day of the collection. Min-a has an incredibly hard time with hearing the thoughts of others, even when she can pick up the smallest of details. She hates knowing the intentions of those around her, however, because she can read thoughts, she is able to mirror the Greens as a way of blending in. Theme Song: All Good Girls Go to Hell - Billie Eilish "And once the water starts to rise And heaven's out of sight She'll want the devil on her team"</s> <\|message\|>Alkibiades Alessi Alki laid in bed, eyes closed, wanting to sleep, but insomnia kept him from resting. Earlier in the day one of his cabin members, Eric, was taken away again. After the first time it happened, Alki kept his distance. Eric was a troublemaker, kept wanting his freedom, he's lucky he hasn't ended up dead. Alki can't deal with people like that. The ones that trigger his power in close proximity. He's learned to stay away from those types, lest he want the migraine from hell and visions of death. Everyone else was in a somber mood, he didn't really care. Eric deserved what he had coming to him. Doesn't pay to start trouble. His foot tapped against the metal bar at the foot of his bed, he couldn't do that when he first arrived. He was a two more inches away from his feet hanging over the end. Guess they didn't account for growth spurts as far as beds were concerned. BOOM! The ground tremored, probabilities of what it could be flitted through his mind. The death and carnage he saw shook him more than anything he's seen so far in captivity. He hit the floor hard. The boy in the bed next to him grabbed his shirt and pulled him underneath with him. His cabin mates knew he couldn't do for much when he had one of his fits. The visions vanished, the same times the tremors stopped. He crawled out from his place and looked outside. It was carnage outside. Adults with white armbands and kids fought the PSF. They weren't winning. Alki sunk to his knees and curled up against the wall. There was little chance of any of them making it out of this alive. The 10% of survival didn't come unscathed. Any number of injuries could happen that could slow them down and get them captured. There aren't medical services if they do manage to escape, so any injuries could get infected. He's terrified. They had a better chance surviving if they stayed put and didn't get in trouble with PSF than if they made a run for it. Alki's content to wait this out.</s> <\|message\|>Alyssa Jane Barker Alyssa Barker Two years. 730 days of... nothing. Alyssa hadn't gotten anywhere closer to getting out of here. In fact, the only places she'd gotten to other than the cabin and labor house was the nurses office and solitary confinement. The latter she'd seen quite a bit of. She'd grown a little too comfortable with those cells. At this point, she considered her time in solitary as a vacation. She was even able to have a little fun messing with the guards too. The first time she'd gone was the second most frightening time of her life. The little light bulb display she'd shown her first day in the camps wasn't taken lightly. The next day, after a rough night of little sleep, she'd been the only one taken from her cabin. As they were taking her away, rubber gloves sticking tightly to her sweaty and nervous hands, Alyssa could only wonder what they were going to do. What they'd done to the five kids the day before was terrifying. Was she going to get the same fate? What would they tell her father? Would they make it look like an accident committed by another kid at camp? She was relieved to find out that the punishment wouldn't be physical, but she also wasn't happy to be thrown into a small, metal room. For two days she sat in that cold cell. It gave her plenty of time to think about her situation. What she didn't think about was why she'd been sent to solitary. Such a small act of disobedience sent her here? No biggie. At least they hadn't done anything worse. Two days in solitary, for dropping a light bulb during processing. She grew to understand that two days was the usual length of time. The longest time she'd spent there? Five days. For what? She zapped a guard for bullying another kid. Little acts like this sent her to solitary quite often. She didn't mind. If she could do one thing in this awful camp, it would be to stand up against the guards as much as she could. --- When Jasmine suggested a game of truth or dare, Alyssa wasn't too thrilled. Yet after a long, uneventful day, she just wanted a distraction. So Alyssa joined the group in their little circle. She glanced around at the other girls and briefly wondered what new truths or dares they would commit to that night. Before anything could begin, there was a sudden, intense thunder outside. Alyssa looked around the room, her bewilderment clear on her face. She noticed a few of the others covering their ears and awaiting the white noise, and Alyssa quickly did the same. She hadn't heard the blaring noise in a long time. She wasn't sure why the weekly siren had stopped, but she'd taken it as an act of mercy by the camp's leader. Would it still feel the same? Would it be even more painful since it had been so long? She shut her eyes tightly and braced herself. Yet it didn't come. Instead, she heard the sounds of chaos from outside. She slowly opened her eyes and lifted herself off of the ground. One of the girls, Annabelle, was headed towards the door. Alyssa glanced around the room for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed. What was going on outside? Was this the time to escape? While she wasn't fluent in the secret language that the kids had developed, she picked up on a few things. Was this what they were warning the other kids about? Filled with a new sense of hope, Alyssa followed Annabelle over to the door. If this really was the day to break loose, Alyssa was all for it. No matter how scared she was of failure and the PSF's violence, Alyssa desperately wanted her freedom back. Even if she could hear gunfire and screams that made her heart begin to race and raised the hairs on the back of her neck she was determined to fight. She took a deep breath and summoned all of the courage she could before she walked past Annabelle. From her pocket she pulled two paper clips she'd picked up while visiting the nurses office a while back. "I may not have done this before, but I've always wanted to try it." She mumbled mostly to herself, but also to the other girls in the cabin. Her voice was as confident as ever, but also had a tone of seriousness as she spoke. "If this works, I'm going out there." She pulled the paper clips apart and stuck them into the lock in the hopes that jiggling them around would do the trick. If that didn't help, there was another option in the room. She turned her head to the side and peered back at the only blue that Alyssa felt close enough to ask this. "Mackie, could you maybe, uh... push the door open?" By push, Alyssa meant force it off of its hinges. At least, that's what she'd do if she was a blue. While she wasn't quite sure that the girl could use her ability well, she wondered if this was the day that Mackie would feel brave enough to try it out. Her eyes fell on Min-a, and she nodded her head towards her. "Min-a, you know how to lock-pick, don't you?"</s>	<\|message\|>Min-a Suhmoon Time started to become irrelevant to Min-a, who did not dare count the days as they passed by. At first, Min-a couldn't find herself, unable to stop the voices of bystanders. The intentions of others were like a weight on her back also, and trying to carry herself got more and more tiring as the days went on by. Slowly, with many visits to solitary, she was able to learn how to focus on just one person, and more importantly, how to block everyone out. Finally, her own thoughts weren't as clouded by others and lots of her frantic outbursts due to the chaos in her mind started to slow down. She was no longer as unhinged as she was in the first couple of months, and she even became an integral part of helping protect those who she now considered her peers. Feeling the intentions of others was an easy way to know when to step into a situation, and Min-a became a great distraction for those who needed it. Sure, she had a large target on her, but that was sort of the point. When she was in a room, attention fell on her quite a bit, allowing it to be easier for others to get away with their endeavors. She knew when to poke the bear and subsequently pull information while doing so. Min-a couldn't care less about the countless times she was sent away, at peace with the fact that she was helping someone, somehow. Still, it wasn't easy, and she realized quickly that no matter what she did, some people would always look at her the same. Orange. ________________ Min-a lept from her bed, ignoring Jasmine and whatever shenanigans she was suggesting today. She didn't hate the girl, not in the slightest, however, the girl was so admirably positive through everything that it tired Min-a. Instead, she focused on the sinking feeling in her stomach, knowing this was a sign of something greater. Her eyes watched the other girls, trying to read if anyone of them was the reason for her uneasy feeling. A blaring noise interrupted everything, and Min-a could suddenly feel it. Fear and anxiety erupted in the pit of her stomach, which did not match her own. It was nauseating, to say the least. Min-a subconsciously moved her hands over her ears, her entire body tensing as she readied herself for the impact of the white noise. Nothing. Was it true then? Did something happen to it? She had taken notice of the chatter among many Greens, and with what she good gather from them, something was amiss. They weren't using the white noise to the extent they had before, and it surely wasn't because of good behavior. Could something have happened to their beloved dog whistle? Eyes now forward, Min-a stood up, straightening herself and readying for the moment. She watched as Annabelle and Alyssa stood near the door, and her impatient nature started to take in as Alyssa bent forward, fumbling with the lock on the door. She knew everything, including timing, was incredibly important and before Alyssa even said anything, she was beside her, hands out. Luckily, Alyssa had already relinquished her duty, dropping the paperclips into Min-a's hand. "I need someone who can blowback any guards to stand behind me," Min-a rushed, unsure if anyone would do as she said. She fumbled along with the now makeshift lockpick, her hands shaking and heart slamming against her chest. Then, a small click. A deranged smile erupted onto Min-a's face as she let out a small giggle, the door swinging ever so slightly open. Biting down on her lip, she pushed the door again, allowing it to show her and the other girls what was amiss. That was when they all saw it. The bodies. The fire. The swarms of kids fighting. This. Is. It.</s>
<\|description\|>Chris Daniels Chris Daniels " A hero is one who kindles light, one who lights the torches ablaze that light up the darkest streets of life "-Felix Adler Gender: Male Age: 15 Birthday: March 17 Appearance Hair: Blonde Eyes: Dull Blue Height: 5'5 Personality: • Sarcastic • Kind • Quite • Loyal Chris is a kind soul that doesn't like to make any big waves or draw attention to himself. However with that being said those who are able to make Chir open up and actually become close friends are sure to find someone who would drop everything to help them if needed. He is fiercely loyal to those close to him and would rather die then watch them be hurt which has its own ups and downs. On the flip side however, Chris has built up a lot of anger through his youth and which has begun to leak out as he has gotten older. He does his best to keep it under wraps but ever so often it cracks through showing a rage that is hard to believe could come from him. Strengths: * Fast learner * People are often drawn to kind nature * Hardworking Weaknesses: * Anger- while it rarely comes out Chirs has a deep anger that he keeps bottled up. * Those he cares about * quite Likes: * Music * camping * loyalty Dislikes: * Alcohol * taking advantage of others * lies Fears: * Losing those he cares about * Giving into the anger he holds Other: Revenge and anger are not something you one should give in to. But man does it feel good. Power: RED- while he hasn't yet learned how to create it Chris can make a fires intensity increase or put it out. He usually practices this on candles or the flames in a lantern Family: Chris Daniels Sr.-Father- alive Rebecca Daniels-Mother- Alive History: Chris was always the kid that just flew under most people's radar whether that be for better or for worse. While he was smart and a kind person he kept to himself and his friends never making waves in his classes. To his benefit, this did mean that he was able to avoid just about all the drama most kids his age went through. No one really knew why this was or what was really happening behind the scenes of the quiet kid in class. Those few who had a view of his life could see that he had far from a perfect life. His father as kind of a man he could be was a stern figure who kept Chris grounded in reality. His mother, on the other hand, was a caring woman who constantly encouraged him to be whatever he wanted. As much as Chris loved both his parents he grew to hate his times at home. His father, while never physically abusive, had a hard habit of drinking. Through this, Chris learned just how much a person could change with the substance coursing through their veins. Chris can still remember the nights he could hear his father yelling about something that wasn't important. This constant screaming and tip-toeing around the problem led to Chris slowly building resentment and deep anger towards his father and alcohol in general. Chris remembers that fateful night as if it were yesterday, the night where everything changed. It was a crisp cold night outside Daniel's house. His family had decided to sit outside for the night around their fire pit. As the night progressed Chris found himself staring into the fire more intently. Something about it pulled him towards it. Zoning everything else out Chris was unaware of the Fire growing in size and intensity. It had taken his father grabbing and shaking him to pull his eyes away from it causing the fire immediately die out. Fearing what he could do if someone wanted to stop him Chris turned himself into the police where he was quickly taken by PSF's to a "Treatment facility". Other: Chris always wears two necklaces around his neck. One is a silver cross, the other is a dog tag with the inscription "hold the light. Never let it die." Theme Song: My Demons - Starset They're all around me, Circling like vultures They wanna break me and wash away my colors Optional</s> <\|message\|>Min-a Suhmoon "This isn't real-" "Papa will come get me, I'm sure." "Maybe, after they do testing, they'll let us go-" The framentend voices of children in horror were the first things that crowded Min-a's mind, suffocating her with their hidden pleas and fears. They scattered, forever changing, some full of dread, others, hope. The second thing that welled up, violently, were the images. Scattered memories people held onto, from faces, to last words, that drowned Min-a in a never ending pit of despair. Still, all of this was easier to listen to than the foolish kids that actually thought they had a chance. That THEY were the golden child, the child that would make it. Not like she had a choice in who she heard. Not yet. Still, she tried to flip past them as much as she could, unable to fathom the pipe dream that they clung to so desperately. Min-a spoke out loud as the voices in her head flew past her like flipbook, mumbling words from each one as she tried to hang on to one person, for at least a moment. To others, she probably sounded mad, but she didn't care. Anything to figure out how to control the noise. Anything to try to get it to stop, or, at least, slow down. All she could get was phrases, tiny pieces, but it was better than the single words that would flip by, all jumbled together, but all different. "Everyone RUN NOW!" This voice was loud enough to snap Min-a out of her haze, silencing the noise that plagued her. Someone was yelling, frantic. Her dark eyes darted around, trying first to find the culprit that cried out. An acrid smell filled the air, smoke rising above a small group of people, all panic-stricken. Her eyes widened as they cleared out and away from what could only be considered a monstrosity. Burnt flesh peeled from what used to be a woman, her arm reached out in what she only could assume was an attempt to get help. Min-a swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, her hand covering her mouth in horror. Still, all her instincts told her to stay still, silent. Then, the noise to end all noises happened. Min-a dropped to her knees, fingers wrapped in her dark locks as she let out a scream resembling a banshee. Her vision faded as her head hung, entire body falling limp, only to be wretched up multiple times before being laid against a wall in what seemed like a sign of defeat by one of the PSFs. As Min-a came to, her eyes fluttering open, she noticed most people stood forward, and she was flooded with a feeling she knew well, hatred. Stumbling to stand, Min-a used the wall to get back up before being pushed forward by a PSF, tumbling towards and into a small group of people. Swearing under her breath, and forced to use a stranger to lean on, Min-a looked with the crowd and the man who radiated disdain. Min-a mind wandered at this moment, her eyes barely focused at the man in front of her. What was the word... It's not hate. Stronger than hate. Her eyes flashed towards the five. Not despise. Idiot. Her eyes then moved to the barrel of a gun behind one of the children. Loathe. That's the word. They loathe us- Shots rang out, and for a moment, just a moment, everything was once again black. ________________________________________________ Min-a stumbled out of the 'testing' room, muzzled and handcuffed. She was pushed by the PSFs harshly, and she could feel their fear of her heighten. The orange mark on her back changed things, and their intent and feelings quickly altered. They knew, no matter what, she was not to be trusted. She was the unknown, and they hated that. The PSFs shoved her towards the line of females, and she fell along, right behind a blonde girl a bit taller than herself. Min-a bit down against her lip, ignoring the pain soaring throughout her body. Her eyes started to shoot around, attempting to take in as little information she could. Still, though, her vision was blurry from the chaos before, and she couldn't make out much before stumbling upon the cabin. Before Min-a could process the situation someone rushed forward, helping her take off her muzzle and handcuffs. Min-a reeled back and away from the person who freed her, knowing if they touched her she could reach much farther in their head than she would ever want. For a moment, there was silence. "So, I guess this is home..." Min-a said flatly, before taking her muzzle and putting it on the top bunk of a random bed- a way of claiming it. She looked at the others, and for a moment, she felt the animosity that some of them felt towards her and the other oranges. Pressing her back against a wall, she slid to the ground, eyes now focused on a drip of water from a pipe nearby. Home sweet home.</s> <\|message\|>Harper Azalea Cartella Harper Azalea Cartella That step on the bus might have well been the end of it all. That was the moment Harper realized they knew, that she had been careless, that she could no longer hide what she was and from other standpoints the scariest. Her eyes darted around to around the bus, as she was urged through the line to a seat. She didn't open her mouth to breathe, even though her lungs felt like they were about to implode. They had guns. It concerned her, it controlled her thoughts. She wasn't going to try anything. She wasn't going to die today. The ride was a long one but she couldn't sleep, not that she tried. She stayed up, tapping her foot lightly on the ground, looking around with her red, puffy, tear-stained eyes. She saw some of the other kids were asleep, others were like her. She met eyes with some of those kids, but no one had anything that was more reassuring than the next. She knew they weren't going to die, but she also knew from what her father always told her- There are a lot of things worse than death, and she was about to find out. She then felt the bus stop, the men with the guns stand up, almost too fast to process. Her first reaction is instead of looking down, is to take a look out the window. To see where they were going and she did, and what felt like seconds later they were all lined up off the bus into another building. The smell that filled her noise was enough to give her a headache alone if it wasn't for the fact she had already had one. Like a crashing wave, she heard the kid say run, and instead, she froze. She felt the tears come through her eyes as she turned around to see what had happened and the large man in front of her giving the speech. She wiped off her tears furthermore feeling the burning in her throat. Harper made her way to the room forcing her steps forward. She felt like she was going to collapse, nevermind has to deal with more. She looked at the girl in the room raising an eyebrow at her before laying down under the machine. She closed her eyes and opened them and it was done. She was expecting something worse, a lot worst. She sat up, looking at the lady, before answering. "Harper, Harper Azalea Cartella" She continued to answer the questions, not immediately but after a few seconds and briefly. She let the girl place handcuffs on her but panicked seeing the muzzle. She shook her head no, tears coming out her eyes. "No, no please-" and the rest was muffled away, and she was sent on her way. She saw the kids poor in after her all placed into lines, all with a color marking them, and soon they made their way to the camp, and into the beds. A guy came and took her muzzle off and the handcuffs for the time being. Harper looked at Min-a and the other girls in the cabin before sitting on a bed somewhat in the corner and placing her heads into her knees.</s>	<\|message\|>Chris Daniels Being at the back of the line meant that Chris had a long time to dwell on his own thoughts and fears as he slowly made his way up the line. The silence in the room was almost unbearable for him. You hear every step every time a pair of handcuffs slightly clanking together. Moving his eyes ever so slightly Chris watched as the kids walked out of the rooms with some form of a colored x as well as some form of restraint. After what felt like an eternity Chirs stepped through the door inside what reminded him of a doctor's office albeit more ominous. Scanning the room quickly Chris noticed a table and some other equipment that he guessed was for him. "Chris Daniels Jr." Chris waited patiently as the young woman began to type away at the keyboard seemingly paying him no mind. Chris stared at the women for a brief second when he heard her ask about his powers and wanting to see it. Chris swore his heart rate skyrocketed at the demand coming from the doctor. He didn't expect anyone one especially the very people that were having kids like him under lock and key, to want him to use the power. What was worse was that he had no way of showing it without a live flame around him. "Sorry ma'am I can't do anything unless there is a live flame already," he said through a nervous voice. All Chris could do was pray that his inability to use his powers wasn't taken as an act of disobedience. Lucky for Chris however the woman merely gave out a small "mmh" before typing something else on her computer. After a tense few seconds, Chris received a large red X painted onto his back and a rather tight pair of handcuffs. Frowning at this Chris knew that this was probably his life now. As much as he hated it and even more so seeing those around him suffering as well he knew there wasn't much he could do. Moving inside the cabin he was supposed to stay in he was surprised to see he was one of the last ones in. He gave the other kids a small nod before sitting down on an unoccupied bed as he continued to stare at the cuffs around his hands.</s>
<\|description\|>Yulen Age: 15 Appearance: Standing at about 5'2" the young man still has some growing to do. Yulen has short black hair, hazel colored eyes, and somewhat defined features. His build is rather lean so to the untrained eye he appears rather weak. He has a somewhat tanned complexion from working out in the sun for long hours.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Despite his tunnel vision he was doing a remarkable job of not running into people or things. That said, he still was so close to actually touching them in some cases that he freaked a few people out. At least one lady fell backwards and one kid rolled out of the way, just in case. All the while he had yet to notice Quinn trying to get his attention. Before long though the beast decided on what it hoped was an effective escape route. The Cucco bolted for a small ledge that would be enough of a drop that could potentially hurt someone if they jumped off, but a feathered friend would be just fine. Yulen quickly saw through its scheme however. "Oh no you don't!" With a burst of speed he reached out and grabbed the chicken wanna-be by the leg as it tried to jump off. The Cucco flapped furiously to try and escape but Yulen held on firmly, not about to let the escapee get away. With all the energy in the thing though as it tried to break free, Yulen could feel he was dangerously close to slipping off the edge and taking a tumble. --- While all this commotion was transpiring, some of the townsfolk had gotten together to share stories and rumors. "I don't think I've seen a single Goron even on the Death Mountain Trail for around four months now. Sure they usually just stick to themselves but it's just strange." "Come to think of it I haven't seen that one guy who likes to visit from time to time. Can't remember his name...or are Gorons its?" "I'm more concerned about the trails recently, I occasionally like to find rare plants or barter for ore but a lot of skulltulas, tektites have popped up recently. I'm getting too scared to try and climb up the mountain anymore!" "Whatever happened to that man who went up a few months ago anyway?" "Who?" "You know that big fellow with that striking red hair!" "Oh him? Don't know but I think someone saw him head back down soon after. Certainly was a unique looking fellow." The townspeople chattered about their new troubles, and anything interesting that was going on in the village or in Hyrule. Though at the moment it was mostly discussions of things rather close to home.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen had to marvel a little about just how unfazed Quinn was about the whole ordeal. Despite the fall she seemed completely fine and wasn't even shaken up a bit, she must have nerves of steel, or perhaps ignorance. Well, everything was well so that was good. "Glad you weren't hurt at all. While I do have things I must get to, I can at least help you transport these ruffians to their holding cells." Yulen joked, referring to the Cuccos as criminals. "I'll take the other one for you. Here kid, hand that one over to me." The kid happily deposited the bird in his arms and then ran away to do whatever it was he wanted to do. Yulen looked menacing down at the bird but thankfully the bird had given up to its fate at this point. As they walked the birds to their pens, Yulen got to talking with the rather energetic Quinn. "Yep, I had just finished work for the day. While I am good enough to have the boss beg me to start full time, I have other duties to attend to which I can't ignore. I'm good at climbing, and good with tools so carpentry is rather easy for me but it will be never more than a side-job for me." Yulen looked at Quinn as they walked. She was a rather, fresh-faced individual who looked rather young, even child-like. She was a bit rounded but with strong, gray eyes and soft freckles that made her look like a picture of innocence. His first impressions of her was that she was honest and hearty, a kind but rambunctious soul. She was certainly someone who would add some color to the traditionally drab Kakariko Village. "You're fairly new around here, aren't you Quinn? What made you decide to move all the way out to our drab little village? Well, at least it was a drab little village years ago. Guess I can't really say that about this place anymore with all the new people moving in. I guess only a few years more before we become a bustling place on par with Castle Town."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn "Oh, thanks for the help!" Quinn told Yulen happily as he took the other remaining cucco. She began to walk with him back to the pen where all the other cuccos were, listening to what Yulen had to say about his current job. "Wow, you are lucky to be able to have a job that fits what you're good at!" Quinn exclaimed happily. "I hope I can find something I can do easily and get paid for it. Taking care of cuccos isn't really what I want to do anyway." She explained, eyeing the cucco she was holding with a sigh. After Yulen asked about her, Quinn thought for a moment. "Well, I moved to Kakariko with my mentor for just more opportunities. We couldn't do much in the countryside, since it's literally just us in a farm for a bunch of miles until you find civilization again. My mentor thought this would be a good learning experience for me. Or something like that anyway." Quinn got to the pen, opening the gate and lead Yulen to the pen where all the other cuccos were, already sitting in their nests. She placed the cucco she had in the pen, then took Yulen's cucco and placed it inside too. "Anyways, that's really all we're doing here. Just more opportunity. I'm learning a lot about being here, so it's working!" She said with a bright smile. "I haven't seen this many people in one place before. This is much more different than back at the ranch I used to live in. I can't wait to do more things once we get more settled." Quinn closed the pen, making sure it was properly closed so that the cuccos wouldn't get out again. "Well, thank you again for helping me. I hope I didn't take too much of your time. You've got stuff to do after this, don't you? What kind of stuff are you doing anyway?" Quinn asked Yulen with genuine curiosity. She didn't mean to intrude, but curiosity really did get the best of her at times.</s>	<\|message\|>Yulen Yulen listened as Quinn talked about her own life and how she had arrived with her mentor, which probably meant she was not living with relatives. Yulen couldn't help but think a little about his own mentor who he only got to see every few months. Of course he highly doubted their mentors were anything alike, in fact there was no way in Hyrule they were remotely similar. He was happy when Quinn took the Cucco from him, no longer would he have to feel its vile feathers in his arms. The Cucco did give him one last, evil glare, before proudly being placed in the pen. Soon enough, Quinn thanked him for his help and asked him another question. "Oh it was really no bother, happy to capture an escaped convict." He joked and took a last look at the Cucco, which merely ruffled its feathers and started cleaning itself. Looking away form the fowl, he thought about what he had to do after his part-time job. It wasn't something he was really supposed to talk about, but he could at least give her some basics. "What kind of stuff indeed, well let's just say I'm being trained in the family business, which is why I'm only a part-timer. I'd say what I do after work is about three times more tiring than my paid time! Unfortunately I just really be going-" Yulen was about to say his goodbyes when a large yell could be heard from the entrance to the village on the Death Mountain side. "PLEASE HELP ME! I'M SO HUNGRY! I NEED SOME ROCK SIRLOIN OR I'M GOING TO DIE!" Yulen turned toward the voice and the concerned voices of the guards floated in the air. "By the Goddess it's a goron! The first one to show up in four months!" "That is the skinniest goron I've ever seen, could he actually be starving?" "Don't they eat rocks? How could he be starving?" "I'm pretty sure not just any rock will do, crap he just collapsed, hurry and get a stretcher!" "What are you stupid!? Gorons are literally rock people, he's snap a stretcher like a twig with his weight alone! We'll need to get him on a sled or even just drag him with ropes if we have to!" What was a starving goron doing here? What in the world was happening on Death Mountain? Yulen cupped one of his ears to try and get a better read on the situation. He'd probably get in trouble for being late but this was something he couldn't ignore. "Well it was nice meeting you Quinn, I'm going to check out what's going on before I head to my training." With his piece said, Yulen headed over to the gate where the guards were trying to help get the goron into the village. Quite a bit was happening all of a sudden, things were certainly getting more interesting around the village.</s>
<\|description\|>Quinn Age: 14 Appearance: Quinn has short light brown hair with electric gray eyes that seem to be filled with energy. Her face was round while her body seemed to match (though it was hardier than it looks), making her look a bit younger than she actually was. Her skin was in between pale and tanned, with soft freckles across her cheeks and nose.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn With the big population boom happening in Kakariko Village, it was only natural that Quinn and her mentor had moved there as well. It seemed like a good idea, with more resources being put into the village, and there having more opportunity to do more than just sit around in the middle of nowhere. Quinn had to get used to everything first though. Being in the middle of nowhere was something she was used to, but this new environment consisting of much noise and bustling people? Not something she was able to get over in a day. Despite the uncomfortable settlement, Quinn had eventually gotten used to all the noise and chatter after working on the cucco farm that she and her mentor had been living in for a bit now. The girl had been out feeding the cuccos, throwing feed on the ground for them until she had decided to count them. "Oh no, not again!" She groaned as she found out that there was a few chickens missing. She made the remaining cuccos go into their coop before hopping over the fence and going around the village to look for the missing cuccos. There was probably only three missing, which wouldn't be such a big deal if there wasn't any construction going around. She needed to get them back fast before they caused trouble for the other villagers. Walking around the village, she found a stray cucco wandering around an empty corner of the village, carrying it back to her home and placing it into the coop with the others, continuing her search. There was was another cucco somewhere, and she could hear it leaving. Frowning to herself, she went on to keep looking, praying to the Goddess that it wasn't wandering around the construction site.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen "Everything secured up there!" Yulen's boss shouted as Yulen did the final checks of all the nails and attachments. "It's all good up here! Well I'll just be heading off for the day then!" "Ya ya, get going ya half-timer!" The boss grunted as he turned his attention to another project. "Done here for now, I'll need to complete my other chores quickly so I'll have some time too..." Yulen's voice trailed off as he heard some sort of a clucking sound coming from down below. He tried to look below but some of the scaffolding got in the way so it was a bit hard to tell from up above. Yulen quickly shimmied down like a trained acrobat to locate the source. He was quickly able to zero in on the sound and there was one of them. A cucco was busy inspecting all the boards in the house's frame, probably searching for insects or something while making its usual, annoying sounds. Yulen's eyebrows started to curl in annoyance, as a child he had had a rather...unfortunate encounter with a flock. It had scared him for years and while he was pretty much over it by now, he still harbored a bit of resentment. He crept up on the cucco, determined to make sure it couldn't mess up there work at all. The white feather ball clucked in happiness or perhaps boredom, as it sniffed around. Yulen crept up from behind a plank, and lunged for the creature. Perhaps sensing his annoyance, the clucker noticed his attempt to grab it and with a cry, bolted for the street. In its mad rush the cucco ran right into the legs of a laborer balancing a bunch of boards, which caused him to trip and collapse in a heap with the boards. "Come back here you feathered fiend!" Yulen gave chase to the fleeing poultry, determined to lock it up in its pen, wherever that was. Into the streets he chased after the cucco which had the advantage of being small and able to dart around people and objects to foil his attempts. Soon his focus was entirely on catching the blasted bird to prevent it from fowling up even more people's days. Soon everything else started to fade into the background as he grew tunnel vision in his quest as the bird was proving to be quite the adept runner.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn had been walking around, trying to look through every small space to see if the cucco was anywhere near there. After a while of searching, she was almost about to give up when she heard a commotion coming from the construction sites. Groaning loudly, she sprinted towards the source of the noise, soon finding Yulen running after the cucco that had escaped. "H-Hey, Yulen, wait!" She cried out, when another cucco had started running away too. Quinn squeaked at the sudden flurry of white, but immediately ran after the cucco. "Get back here! You can't be running around here, it's too dangerous!!" She shouted at the stray cucco, who was still running as fast as its short legs will allow. She ran after it, trying to be mindful of the workers and trying to get the cucco to steer away from them, until eventually, the cucco had gotten distracted and ran straight into a wall, falling flat on its back. Quinn gasped, swiftly running over and scooped it up. "Okay, now to get the other one.." She sighed, running over to find Yulen and the last cucco. She vaguely knew of Yulen's beef with the cuccos, but it became more prevalent as she saw the boy running after the last cucco at full speed, seeming to not pay any attention to his surroundings. "Yulen!" She tried to get his attention, running after the two in a chase.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Despite his tunnel vision he was doing a remarkable job of not running into people or things. That said, he still was so close to actually touching them in some cases that he freaked a few people out. At least one lady fell backwards and one kid rolled out of the way, just in case. All the while he had yet to notice Quinn trying to get his attention. Before long though the beast decided on what it hoped was an effective escape route. The Cucco bolted for a small ledge that would be enough of a drop that could potentially hurt someone if they jumped off, but a feathered friend would be just fine. Yulen quickly saw through its scheme however. "Oh no you don't!" With a burst of speed he reached out and grabbed the chicken wanna-be by the leg as it tried to jump off. The Cucco flapped furiously to try and escape but Yulen held on firmly, not about to let the escapee get away. With all the energy in the thing though as it tried to break free, Yulen could feel he was dangerously close to slipping off the edge and taking a tumble. --- While all this commotion was transpiring, some of the townsfolk had gotten together to share stories and rumors. "I don't think I've seen a single Goron even on the Death Mountain Trail for around four months now. Sure they usually just stick to themselves but it's just strange." "Come to think of it I haven't seen that one guy who likes to visit from time to time. Can't remember his name...or are Gorons its?" "I'm more concerned about the trails recently, I occasionally like to find rare plants or barter for ore but a lot of skulltulas, tektites have popped up recently. I'm getting too scared to try and climb up the mountain anymore!" "Whatever happened to that man who went up a few months ago anyway?" "Who?" "You know that big fellow with that striking red hair!" "Oh him? Don't know but I think someone saw him head back down soon after. Certainly was a unique looking fellow." The townspeople chattered about their new troubles, and anything interesting that was going on in the village or in Hyrule. Though at the moment it was mostly discussions of things rather close to home.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s>	<\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s>
<\|description\|>Quinn Age: 14 Appearance: Quinn has short light brown hair with electric gray eyes that seem to be filled with energy. Her face was round while her body seemed to match (though it was hardier than it looks), making her look a bit younger than she actually was. Her skin was in between pale and tanned, with soft freckles across her cheeks and nose.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen had to marvel a little about just how unfazed Quinn was about the whole ordeal. Despite the fall she seemed completely fine and wasn't even shaken up a bit, she must have nerves of steel, or perhaps ignorance. Well, everything was well so that was good. "Glad you weren't hurt at all. While I do have things I must get to, I can at least help you transport these ruffians to their holding cells." Yulen joked, referring to the Cuccos as criminals. "I'll take the other one for you. Here kid, hand that one over to me." The kid happily deposited the bird in his arms and then ran away to do whatever it was he wanted to do. Yulen looked menacing down at the bird but thankfully the bird had given up to its fate at this point. As they walked the birds to their pens, Yulen got to talking with the rather energetic Quinn. "Yep, I had just finished work for the day. While I am good enough to have the boss beg me to start full time, I have other duties to attend to which I can't ignore. I'm good at climbing, and good with tools so carpentry is rather easy for me but it will be never more than a side-job for me." Yulen looked at Quinn as they walked. She was a rather, fresh-faced individual who looked rather young, even child-like. She was a bit rounded but with strong, gray eyes and soft freckles that made her look like a picture of innocence. His first impressions of her was that she was honest and hearty, a kind but rambunctious soul. She was certainly someone who would add some color to the traditionally drab Kakariko Village. "You're fairly new around here, aren't you Quinn? What made you decide to move all the way out to our drab little village? Well, at least it was a drab little village years ago. Guess I can't really say that about this place anymore with all the new people moving in. I guess only a few years more before we become a bustling place on par with Castle Town."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn "Oh, thanks for the help!" Quinn told Yulen happily as he took the other remaining cucco. She began to walk with him back to the pen where all the other cuccos were, listening to what Yulen had to say about his current job. "Wow, you are lucky to be able to have a job that fits what you're good at!" Quinn exclaimed happily. "I hope I can find something I can do easily and get paid for it. Taking care of cuccos isn't really what I want to do anyway." She explained, eyeing the cucco she was holding with a sigh. After Yulen asked about her, Quinn thought for a moment. "Well, I moved to Kakariko with my mentor for just more opportunities. We couldn't do much in the countryside, since it's literally just us in a farm for a bunch of miles until you find civilization again. My mentor thought this would be a good learning experience for me. Or something like that anyway." Quinn got to the pen, opening the gate and lead Yulen to the pen where all the other cuccos were, already sitting in their nests. She placed the cucco she had in the pen, then took Yulen's cucco and placed it inside too. "Anyways, that's really all we're doing here. Just more opportunity. I'm learning a lot about being here, so it's working!" She said with a bright smile. "I haven't seen this many people in one place before. This is much more different than back at the ranch I used to live in. I can't wait to do more things once we get more settled." Quinn closed the pen, making sure it was properly closed so that the cuccos wouldn't get out again. "Well, thank you again for helping me. I hope I didn't take too much of your time. You've got stuff to do after this, don't you? What kind of stuff are you doing anyway?" Quinn asked Yulen with genuine curiosity. She didn't mean to intrude, but curiosity really did get the best of her at times.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen listened as Quinn talked about her own life and how she had arrived with her mentor, which probably meant she was not living with relatives. Yulen couldn't help but think a little about his own mentor who he only got to see every few months. Of course he highly doubted their mentors were anything alike, in fact there was no way in Hyrule they were remotely similar. He was happy when Quinn took the Cucco from him, no longer would he have to feel its vile feathers in his arms. The Cucco did give him one last, evil glare, before proudly being placed in the pen. Soon enough, Quinn thanked him for his help and asked him another question. "Oh it was really no bother, happy to capture an escaped convict." He joked and took a last look at the Cucco, which merely ruffled its feathers and started cleaning itself. Looking away form the fowl, he thought about what he had to do after his part-time job. It wasn't something he was really supposed to talk about, but he could at least give her some basics. "What kind of stuff indeed, well let's just say I'm being trained in the family business, which is why I'm only a part-timer. I'd say what I do after work is about three times more tiring than my paid time! Unfortunately I just really be going-" Yulen was about to say his goodbyes when a large yell could be heard from the entrance to the village on the Death Mountain side. "PLEASE HELP ME! I'M SO HUNGRY! I NEED SOME ROCK SIRLOIN OR I'M GOING TO DIE!" Yulen turned toward the voice and the concerned voices of the guards floated in the air. "By the Goddess it's a goron! The first one to show up in four months!" "That is the skinniest goron I've ever seen, could he actually be starving?" "Don't they eat rocks? How could he be starving?" "I'm pretty sure not just any rock will do, crap he just collapsed, hurry and get a stretcher!" "What are you stupid!? Gorons are literally rock people, he's snap a stretcher like a twig with his weight alone! We'll need to get him on a sled or even just drag him with ropes if we have to!" What was a starving goron doing here? What in the world was happening on Death Mountain? Yulen cupped one of his ears to try and get a better read on the situation. He'd probably get in trouble for being late but this was something he couldn't ignore. "Well it was nice meeting you Quinn, I'm going to check out what's going on before I head to my training." With his piece said, Yulen headed over to the gate where the guards were trying to help get the goron into the village. Quite a bit was happening all of a sudden, things were certainly getting more interesting around the village.</s>	<\|message\|>Quinn Quinn laughed at what Yulen called the cucco, grinning. "Yeah, thanks for that!" She exclaimed, before she listened to him curiously as he explained vaguely about his plans after work. She pouted a bit with the vagueness, but ended up shrugging it off. It didn't seem too interesting anyway. "Right, sounds kinda important when you put it that way." Quinn then stretched, saying, "Well, I guess I should let you go-" The girl was soon startled by the sudden yelling. "H-Huh?! What's going on??" She asked, turning to where she heard the voices. Confused, Quinn blinked a few times before she grew more confused and worried. "What is a Goron?" She questioned, listening into the conversation a bit more to get some more information on this species. A rock person? A starving one? What even is a rock sirloin?? Quinn only grew more confused, even more so as Yulen said his goodbye quickly before joining with the others to help the so-called Goron. "H-Hey! Wait up!" Quinn called out after Yulen. If something was happening around here, she would like to go help as well. It wasn't like she was busy anyway. Going over to the group, Quinn reached to the gate as well and did her best to help everyone with the Goron. Wow, they really weren't kidding when they said this Goron could snap the stretcher! Grunting a bit, Quinn carried a bit of the Goron's weight. "How did this happen? How are we supposed to feed this goron?" She asked through gritted teeth.</s>
<\|description\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Appearance: Series of origin: Avatar: The Last Airbender Personality: Toph is fiercely independent , sarcastic, direct, stubborn, and confrontational. On top of this, she can be very carefree and adventurous. Toph loves fighting and has great pride in her earthbending skills, which can come off as arrogant more often than not. She usually faces problems head-on as that's just her style but she isn't totally opposed to using a different approach if she needs to. Abilities: Earthbending: From a very young age, Toph was trained in the arts of earthbending under the teachings of the badgermoles. Because of this, she was able to learn their unique ability of seismic sense. She has utilised this ability with her earthbending to 'feel' the vibrations in the earth. Through this heightened seismic sense, Toph can visualize where people are, find out their relative distance from her, and even get a rough idea on their build. However, one of her major flaws is that she relies on her seismic sense to 'see' by feeling vibrations in the earth, this makes her very vulnerable to air-based attacks. Toph's earthbending style is very unique and unpredictable, as her training was more unconventional and more deeply rooted into the nature of earthbending. This makes her superior to other earthbenders because of this and usually gives her an edge in a fight. Sandbending: Because sand is loose and ultimately always changing, Toph finds it difficult to navigate through and control. To compensate somewhat, Toph can condense the sand to give her better footing when she walks over it. However, she is not able to use sand as effectively in a fight like she can with earth and as such, is limited to how she can fight with it. Metalbending: Another one of Toph's abilities is that she is able to bend metal. Because of her ability to feel the vibrations in earth, Toph can locate impurities (small fragments of earth) within the metal and manipulate it, allowing her to "bend" the metal. However, just like sandbending, she isn't too proficient in the style and metalbending especially requires lots of concentration to use properly. It also has the added effect of draining her energy pretty rapidly so she can't use it too often anyway. Other Senses: Toph is blind and because of this, her other senses have been heightened. Her sense of touch and hearing being the most prominent examples. Her sense of touch allowing her to put her seismic sense to good use and her sense of hearing giving her the innate ability to hear things that normal people otherwise won't. She also never forgets someone's voice once she hears it. Weapons and equipment: N/A Character alignment: Chaotic Good Other: This is based off of Toph as she appears in the Avatar: The Last Airbender. --- --- Agent Carolina --- --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Ladybug End --- Ladybug and Cat Noir Location: Non-Futuristic City --- The two androids' cautious approach was met in kind, as Ladybug and Cat Noir landed on the ground in front of them, Yo-yo and Baton at the ready. "Fighting already?" Cat Noir playfully scoffed. "Guess it won't be too hard to get outta here!" But the other two lowered their weapons and explained themselves. It only served to make Ladybug and Cat Noir confused. "Humans? On the moon? I mean, sometimes astronauts are sent there, but..." Ladybug shook her head and relaxed, dropping her battle-ready stance. "I guess that's not so important right now. We're as clueless as you two are, probably, we just woke up. My name is Ladybug, and this--" Cat Noir sprung forward, closing the distance between them and giving an incredibly theatrical bow. "Cat Noir, at your service!" He raised himself back up with a smirk. "What's up with these floating box things?" He asked, prodding at one of the Pods with his staff.</s> <\|message\|>Benjamin Kirby Tennyson --- --- --- --- LOCATION: DESERT --- This was strange. Way too strange. What even is this place? As Ben soared the skies all he could see was this strange patchwork job of a world in front of him. Whenever Ben first got here, he figured he was flung into the Mad Ben world or something. At this point, he wished that was the truth. Whoever made this place must have been on something crazy. But just who could have made this? Well, a Celestialsapien could make this, but all they do is think all day. They wouldn't just go rogue... right? Besides, if a Celestialsapien made this, it would probably look a lot more organized. This was a mess. Some places make sense for them to be there, others didn't. Why were there perfectly good parts of the city right next to completely ruined one's? And why did Bellwood spawn in the middle of a desert? The more he flew, and the more he thought, the more confused he became. Nothing was making sense. As he flew over the burning desert, Ben started to feel a bit uneasy. Was this really the right thing to do? Was there anything else he could do first? This foreign world was messing with his head. Maybe he should have looked around it more in Bellwood, or maybe pick the faster alien than Astrodactyl, or just something. But the top it off, it's almost as if this desert goes on forever. Hopefully, there will be something around here soon- Ben looks down, squinting his eyes. Maybe not something... but someone? He slows to a stop a few meters above the girl. Her blank expression was giving him creepy vibes. And what in the world was she wearing? He guesses she must know what she's doing, considering that the outfit looked a lot more fit this kind of weather. She didn't seem to notice him at all, though. He ponders for a second if he should try to get her to notice him first or not... Oh well, go big or go home. Ben lands in front of her, confidently posing in a heroic fashion. "Greetings young lady, squawk! How are you on this lovely day?" The "young lady" in question jumped back a few feet, obviously startled at Ben's presence. This itself was strange, everyone under and above the sun knew who Ben was and all of his aliens. Yet, this girl acted like she's never seen anything extra-terrestrial before. Oh boy, Ben thought to himself, this is gonna be a long day... --- ---</s> <\|message\|>YoRHa No.2 Type B, 2B Current Location: City Interacting With: Ladybug and Cat Noir @TruthHurts22 Current Token Count: 5 "Hm. Glad we're not the only ones at a loss here." 2B said to Ladybug. The other masked girl expressed confusion at the mention of humans residing on the moon. Were these two left behind? Or is this a part of the "multiverse" theories human scientists studied? Either way, it seemed best to explain what the androids meant. Though they quickly took a step back when Cat Noir introduced himself after Ladybug with style. When he asked about the pods, 9S was first to speak. "Oh, these are our Support Pods, 042 and 153. They were assigned to us for our recon missions." the scanner explained, pod 153 moving out of the way of being poked. "They also serve as our ranged weapons, but I guess we left the rest of their program chips back at camp." Pod 042 then displayed a hologram, showing a small summary of the war against machines. "Long ago, aliens and their machines had invaded Earth. As much as humans fought back, they were driven from their homes to reside in the moon. Soon enough, the Council of Humanity was established, and with it came YorRHa." the battler explained along with the hologram. "We YoRHa units were made to combat the machines, so that one day, this war might end. However, for many years, we've been stuck in a stalemate, and there has been no sign of our other adversaries." "Until we found out that the machines had evolved. Eventually killing their alien masters." 9S continued. "Somehow, we ended up fighting a pair of twin machines advanced enough to match us androids, appearance and combat wise." Once they finished, Pod 042 turned off the hologram. "It's...pretty complicated now that I think about it. Most machines we faced just tried to mimic humans, but yeah. We're trying to get back before anything bad happens. Or we get excommunicated as deserters."</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Ruins Dante slowly started stepping towards the demons in a nonchalant manner. He knew these guys in and out, so he figured he would wait for them to make the first move. The first one struck, a Hell's Pride with a downward diagonal slash of it's scythe. However, before it could even bring the scythe down far enough, Dante already whipped out his pistol and shot it in the stomach. Hah, too slow. As the Hell's Pride fell lifeless to the ground, Dante continued his casual walk towards the rest of the demons without missing a step, as if the Hell's Pride hadn't even attacked him at all The next Hell's Pride came at him from the left, delivering an underhanded swipe of it's own scythe. In one smooth motion, Dante immediately dodged the slash with a casual sidestep, leaving him now standing behind the demon, and playfully tapped in on the shoulder. The Hell's Pride quickly swung the scythe in Dante's direction again, the inertia of the scythe swing turning its body towards Dante. Dante immediately saw the swing and reacted by making a quick leap into the air before the scythe could reach him. He then landed on the handle of the scythe as the demon finished its swing and stood on it for a second. "From here, you can get a great look at my boots!" Dante said right before performing a forward spinning kick straight into the demon's face. The Hell's Pride was launched backwards and landed unconscious about 10 feet away from Dante, who himself landed on his feet and continued his way towards the demon horde. Piece of cake The final Hell's Pride came rushing at him from the right and made a swift sideways strike at chest level. Dante countered with his sword, and 2 blades immediately clashed together. Sparks flew as Dante ground his sword against the scythe, pushing it in just a way in an attempt disarm the Hell's Pride. It worked, and as the scythe flew out of the demon's hands, Dante made a series of fast sword slashes of his own across its chest. He finished flurry of attacks with an upward swing, which launched the Hell's Pride straight into the air. Before the Hell's Pride landed, Dante then pulled out his second pistol and unloaded a storm of bullets into it. As it got shot it flew even farther in the air, the force of the constant barrage of bullets keeping it in the air, and then finally landed a bloody, bullet riddled mess of a corpse Dante turned to face the final demons and held out his arms in a 'come at me' kind of pose. "If that's the best you got, this'll last all of 30 seconds!" Dante bragged with a smirk of confidence on his face. However, as he spoke he was blindsided by the feeling of a fireball hitting him from behind. As he staggered forward, he quickly turned around to get a look at the assailant. It was one of those other demons that came out of the portal, one of the ones from Doom Slayer's world. Well, Dante presumed they were anyway. It looked faster, more crazy and aggressive than the ones Dante was used to fighting. Suddenly, Dante's mind flashed back to the beginning of the fight, remembering when Doom Slayer put away his shotgun, and had an idea. Before he could do anything however, the strange demon had already closed the distance between the 2 and made a swipe at him. Dante quickly shifted his torso to the side to dodge it at the last second, and then turned towards Doom Slayer. "Yo, crazy soldier guy! Toss me that shotgun! Y'know, the one you aren't using!" Dante shouted across the battlefield to Doom Slayer. Dante figured he could probably take this thing on his own, but where was the fun in that? ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City It looked like the troops weren't backing down, and were insisting that he should drop his weapons. Chief had already made up his mind that wasn't gonna happen, and he didn't like the idea of a fight but he had no idea who these guys were and he wasn't willing to put his trust in a squad of soldiers who immediately aim their weapons at him, especially in the place he was in right now. Waiting any longer was just delaying the inevitable Chief fired the first shot, a well aimed three round burst at the hands of the front soldier in the group. As he fired the shots, he quickly started taking steps backwards, both to make him a harder target to hit as well as to make his way towards the air conditioning unit behind him for cover</s>	<\|message\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Skulduggery Pleasant&Valkyrie Cain Location - Snowy Forest --- Skulduggery kept his gun aimed at the strange man, who he now knew as Inosuke Hasibira. He found the name a little strange but it wasn't quite the weirdest he had heard in his time. Valkyrie had picked herself up off the ground and stood beside Skulduggery. She was somewhat annoyed at being attacked for no reason, especially by some guy wearing a boar mask over his head. "Are you going to shoot him?" Valkyrie quietly whispered to Skulduggery. The Skeleton Detective turned to his partner upon hearing this question. "Most likely not. Why, did you want to use that new power of yours?" Valkyrie gave him a little nod and stepped forward towards Inosuke, white lighting beginning to crackle in her hands and without a second wasted, she shot the lighting out at their boar-masked attacker. Toph Beifong Location: Desert --- Toph, as usual, was finding it rather difficult to move in this desert sand. She tried making it easier on herself by condensing the sand so he could walk on it without worrying about falling over. Suddenly, she heard the noise of something landing in front of her followed by a voice. The voice did not sound like anyone she has heard before and her immediate reaction was to jump back and get into a fighting stance just in case things turned out bad. Though Toph knew that if things did turn into a fight, she would most certainly be at a disadvantage because of the current terrain. "Who are you? Why do you sound like that?" Toph asked, confused on why whoever she was talking to squawked like a bird. Vader's Fist Location: City - Office Building --- Before the troopers could get close enough to Chief, the squad leader had his weapon shot out of his hands. The Commander noticed this hostile action and ordered his troops to open fire. "Take him out!" Blaster shots zoomed through the air as the stormtroopers tried to hit their enemy. They couldn't quite get a clear shot on Chief by the way he was moving and soon enough, he had taken cover behind an air conditioning unit. The troopers recomposed themselves and slowly begun moving towards where they last saw their enemy.</s>
<\|description\|>Inosuke Hashibira Appearance: Series of origin: Kimetsu No Yaiba: Demon Slayer Personality: Excruciatingly proud and short fused, Inosuke Hashibura likes to believe he's the greatest fighter in any situation, and will often express that by challenging anything and anyone he comes across, typically overestimating his own skill, and underestimating his target of attack. Inosuke was raised by boars as a child, leading him to posses very little social grace, or understanding of most human customs. Due to this, he's quite curious in sometimes an invasive way. Despite all this, he means well. Usually. Abilities: Enhanced Sense Of Touch: Growing up in the mountains caused Inosuke to develop a sharp and incredibly sensitive sense of touch. He can feel the slightest vibrations in the air, and tell if anyone is looking at him, especially if they have any hostile intentions. Flexibility: He's very flexible, to the point where he's capable of bending backwards far enough that his head can reach between his feet, or dislocate any joint at will. Poison Resistance: Inosuke is capable of resisting and surviving most strong poisons, however, he's not exactly immune. This also poses the problem of many medicines not working on him. Weapons and equipment: Inosuke wields two serrated, silver, saw like swords, which he wraps in cloth when not in use. They're forged from Nichirin ore, a metal that absorbs sunlight, which assists in the vanquishing of Demons. Character alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: ★Inosuke often wears a hollowed out wild boar mask, which conceals his considerably feminine face. He's very protective of it. ☆He has a monster appetite. He's almost always hungry, and will never turn down the prospect of food. ★His catchphrase? PIG ASSAULT! Name: Yugi Tsukasa Appearance: Series of origin: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: Toilet Bound Hanako-kun Personality: Cheerful and quite immature, Tsukasa is the definition of a typical slasher smile killer. Despite his excitable qualities, Tsukasa is capable of extreme acts pf violence, without a drop of remorse. Fizzy and enigmatic, it's hard to decipher what drives him. Tsukasa is extremely manipulative, and likes to figure out what makes people tick, to pull at it until they do what he wants. Typically when he does something, it's for him to get his way, and to the benefit of no one else. Controlling and sociopathic, Tsukasa derives happiness from seeing any form of painful and distraught expression on other's faces. Abilities: Ghost: Tsukasa is a relatively low-level spirit-- normally, the most he can do is float around 7 to 8 inches off the ground. However, he can use particular supernatural powers for about 3 seconds, at the cost of a significant cooldown period, depending on which power used and the duration of use. Kokujoudai: Tsukasa controls two Kokujoudai, which can perform a series of tasks. He can transform them into black origami cranes to spy on others, use them to alter his outfit, or use them to do basic bashing attacks, which he typically doesn't do. They tend to float harmlessly around him, as he's only able to use their abilities for the aformentioned 3 seconds. Weapons and equipment: As stated above, Tsukasa controls two black Kokuoudai. They usually take form of two black spheres with a never static tail like tendril at the top. He typically uses his hands to do anything, however sometimes he'll use a pen, or another object on hand depending on what he's attacking. Character alignment: Chaotic Evil Other: ★Tsukasa tends to try and physically gut things that get in his way. ☆His main attacking methods are slamming his victims heads into a hard surface, typically to give them a concussion, or knock them out, or the aforementioned: gutting. ★His favorite thing is his twin brother, Amane!</s> <\|message\|>Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Ladybug --- Hawk Moth and Mayura Location: Medieval Castle --- The first to wake up was Gabriel. He picked himself up from the cold stone floor of the castle, groggy and holding his head. "Aaagh... where am I?" He looked around, trying to get his bearings, only to find his faithful assistant lying just a few feet away. "Nathalie!" Gabriel rushed to Nathalie's side, rousing her awake as he helped her up. "Nathalie, are you okay? Are you hurt?" "No, sir, I-I'm fine." Nathalie brushed the dirt from her clothes before moving to do the same for Gabriel. She stopped herself short, however, and slowly brought her arms back to her sides. "Is this the doing of an Akuma, sir?" Gabriel brought a hand to his chin. "Possibly, although I don't remember creating one, nor being targeted..." As the two mulled over their situation, an electronic tone sounded - Nathalie's phone. She fished it from her pocket and, reading it over, pointed the message at Gabriel. "It seems as if something else is responsible for this," she said. "'Crossroad', 'tokens', this is all too much for just one Akuma." "Hmm." Gabriel looked at his feet. Two small stacks of poker-chip-like tokens sat on the floor, purple and blue, one for both of them. He knelt down to collect his five, and handed Nathalie's to her. "One hundred tokens for a wish." He paused to inspect the tokens before a smile spread on his face. "This is it, Nathalie. No more chasing after Ladybug and Cat Noir. This is our big break!" Nathalie offered Gabriel a warm smile and closed her fist around her tokens. "Well, then, how should we start?" --- Ladybug and Cat Noir Location: City - Rooftops --- Meanwhile, a young girl found herself waking up on a tall building's roof. She didn't panic right away, though; instead, she yawned and stretched as if she were simply getting out of bed. A second to take in her surroundings, though, made her jolt right onto her feet. "Waaah! Who, what, where-- how did I get up here?!" She scrambled to the edge of the roof, peering over the lip for a split second, before throwing herself back to more-or-less safety. "This isn't Paris! It must be Hawk Moth's doing. Tikki?" Marinette opened her small purse, and out from inside floated the little ladybug kwami herself, yawning as well. "Yaaaaawhh... What's wrong, Marinette?" "I don't know, but we have to figure it out! Tikki, Spots On!" As soon as she turned into Ladybug, the heroine brought her Yo-yo up and flipped it open like a phone. "Let's see if Cat Noir picks up... wait, what?" The first thing on her tool's screen was a message, not one she opened, detailing the rules of the Crossroads. She was even more confused than before. "Tokens? Is this some kind of weird game?" "If it is, we're a shoo-in to beat it!" Cat Noir leaped onto the roof right then, nearly scaring Ladybug clear off. "Thought I heard your sweet voice, milady! Lucky you, you wouldn't have been able to handle yourself if you got taken here by yourself." Cat Noir leaned on his staff, flashing Ladybug with his trademark grin. It took all of Marinette's will to not roll her eyes. "Please, you're the lucky one here. You're useless without me, like a cat in the rain." Cat Noir did roll his eyes, letting the jab roll off him. "I've been awake for a few minutes now, and nothing's tried to take my Miraculous, so I don't think Hawk Moth has anything to do with this. Maybe it's one of those hidden camera reality shows?" Cat Noir looked around, smiling at any place he thought a camera could be hiding. "Hmm, maybe. But stay on your guard, we can't be sure of anything yet." "Some reconnaissance then, milady?" Marinette nodded, and the two leaped from the roof, swinging and vaulting to the streets below!</s> <\|message\|>Steven Quartz Cutie-Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe --- --- LOCATION: New Berk --- Steven, unable to muster up the gall to speak over the obviously-excited Hiccup, nodded and listened as the Chief of Berk gently nudged him forward and started a little tour of the village. It wasn't even that Steven was afraid of talking over him, more just.. He didn't want to. It was rude, and.. Hiccup apparently had even less of an idea as Steven did. He didn't want to burst Hiccup's bubble just yet, cause it felt.. Mean. At the same time though, maybe Hiccup did know, and maybe he was just in denial? This little village, as cute and cozy as it seemed, it felt.. Dead. Not like the people were lying around dead or dying or anything, but there was nothing going on. The air was eerily still, and it looked like everyone had to leave in a hurry. It was like they didn't even have time to pack their things. Candles looked like they were still burning in some windows, but there was no movement beyond the flickers of candlelight, no noise aside from himself, Hiccup, and Toothless the dragon here. Like, how did Hiccup not feel it too? It was as quiet here as it was in that that little patch of forest he woke up in- Well, until the silence was torn to shreds by an absolutely horrible, crying sort of roar. It sounded far away but entirely too close all at once, and the ground felt like it trembled from the sound. He looked at Hiccup and Toothless, who both looked just as shocked as Steven did - maybe even more so, somehow. Once again using his powers without trying to explaining himself first, Steven jumped up much higher than a regular human should be capable of, zipping up and over the tree line in an attempt to spot what giant beast might've made that noise.. Instead, he was greeted with the onset of night and a light snowfall. Wherever the source of that sound was, it was far enough away to not be of immediate concern... Not that Steven wasn't concerned anyway, but.. It wasn't as pressing. He let himself drop down a bit faster, landing with a bit of a huff and a wince - that was a bit too fast. He righted himself, and then looked back to Hiccup and Toothless. No matter their expressions, Steven's words were the same. "Well, uh, at least whatever made that noise isn't anywhere close, right?" --- ---</s> <\|message\|>YoRHa No.2 Type B, 2B Current Location: City Interacting With: Ladybug and Cat Noir @TruthHurts22 Current Token Count: 5 Without any other terminals in the area, 2B and 9S were forced to explore the city blind. No puns intended. So far, they haven't run into any hostiles, or machines luckly. Though, what if they ran into any humans? The thought hadn't really crossed the androids minds till later. Neither of them were sure what to do if they had to face a human. They were designed to protect and obey their human masters, after all. `"Alert: Two unknown lifeforms approaching."` Once Pod-042 spoke up, the androids noticed two figures zipping down from the rooftops near them. Cautious, they slowly approached the other pair, readying their weapons until they realized something. They were humans. Just as the androids feared. "Ah, sorry! We thought you were machines or something..." 9S apologized to Ladybug and Cat Noir, putting his sword aside. "It's rare for us to see humans not on the moon. I'm 9S, and this is 2B!" the scanner introduced himself and his companion to them. "Do you have any idea why we're here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Inosuke Hashibira Tsukasa Location: Futuristic City --- Tsukasa's eyes widened. He's awake! Pupils constricting to excited pinpoints, the spirit giggled when Lucifer batted his hand away, clicking the pen closed and slipping it back into his pocket. Tsukasa shimmied back away from him a pace, smiling to himself as he rested his cheek in one of his palms, getting a closer look at the man in front of him. He had a weird energy about him, something the noirette couldn't exactly put a name to. He seemed fun to annoy, though. Whoever it was, they spoke in a weird dialect, and Tsukasa simply stared at him with an open mouthed smile, inhumanly sharp canines glistening in the dark as he tried to process what he just said. "...Oh!" He chirped. Bringing both index fingers up to press into the dimples below his cheekbones, Tsukasa continued. "I'm Yugi Tsukasa! I saw you just laying here, and I thought you were dead or something! I wanted to double check, though. Guess you're not! This doesn't seem like a great place to sleep, though. Anyway, who exactly are you?" The boy tilted his head, a thin smile on his face as he dropped his hands to rest in his lap again. --- INOSUKE Location: Snowy Forest --- What the hell just happened? Inosuke barely stopped himself from faceplanting in the snow, managing to right himself at the last second, still landing a little clumsily, however. Turning a solid 180, Inosuke's gaze dropped to the gun, towards the girl, and back to the gun again before finally raising his eyes to meet Skulduggery's behind the blank stare of his mask. Dropping his swords, Inosuke brought both his arms up, crossing one over the other, with both thumbs pointed toward himself. "Inosuke Hashibira! Don't you forget it, Skull Face! And you, girl! Stand and face me! I'll defeat both of you!" He crowed, lowering ever so slightly to pick up his swords, holding the blades aimed behind him, but muscles taut and ready for a fight.</s>
<\|description\|>Inosuke Hashibira Appearance: Series of origin: Kimetsu No Yaiba: Demon Slayer Personality: Excruciatingly proud and short fused, Inosuke Hashibura likes to believe he's the greatest fighter in any situation, and will often express that by challenging anything and anyone he comes across, typically overestimating his own skill, and underestimating his target of attack. Inosuke was raised by boars as a child, leading him to posses very little social grace, or understanding of most human customs. Due to this, he's quite curious in sometimes an invasive way. Despite all this, he means well. Usually. Abilities: Enhanced Sense Of Touch: Growing up in the mountains caused Inosuke to develop a sharp and incredibly sensitive sense of touch. He can feel the slightest vibrations in the air, and tell if anyone is looking at him, especially if they have any hostile intentions. Flexibility: He's very flexible, to the point where he's capable of bending backwards far enough that his head can reach between his feet, or dislocate any joint at will. Poison Resistance: Inosuke is capable of resisting and surviving most strong poisons, however, he's not exactly immune. This also poses the problem of many medicines not working on him. Weapons and equipment: Inosuke wields two serrated, silver, saw like swords, which he wraps in cloth when not in use. They're forged from Nichirin ore, a metal that absorbs sunlight, which assists in the vanquishing of Demons. Character alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: ★Inosuke often wears a hollowed out wild boar mask, which conceals his considerably feminine face. He's very protective of it. ☆He has a monster appetite. He's almost always hungry, and will never turn down the prospect of food. ★His catchphrase? PIG ASSAULT! Name: Yugi Tsukasa Appearance: Series of origin: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: Toilet Bound Hanako-kun Personality: Cheerful and quite immature, Tsukasa is the definition of a typical slasher smile killer. Despite his excitable qualities, Tsukasa is capable of extreme acts pf violence, without a drop of remorse. Fizzy and enigmatic, it's hard to decipher what drives him. Tsukasa is extremely manipulative, and likes to figure out what makes people tick, to pull at it until they do what he wants. Typically when he does something, it's for him to get his way, and to the benefit of no one else. Controlling and sociopathic, Tsukasa derives happiness from seeing any form of painful and distraught expression on other's faces. Abilities: Ghost: Tsukasa is a relatively low-level spirit-- normally, the most he can do is float around 7 to 8 inches off the ground. However, he can use particular supernatural powers for about 3 seconds, at the cost of a significant cooldown period, depending on which power used and the duration of use. Kokujoudai: Tsukasa controls two Kokujoudai, which can perform a series of tasks. He can transform them into black origami cranes to spy on others, use them to alter his outfit, or use them to do basic bashing attacks, which he typically doesn't do. They tend to float harmlessly around him, as he's only able to use their abilities for the aformentioned 3 seconds. Weapons and equipment: As stated above, Tsukasa controls two black Kokuoudai. They usually take form of two black spheres with a never static tail like tendril at the top. He typically uses his hands to do anything, however sometimes he'll use a pen, or another object on hand depending on what he's attacking. Character alignment: Chaotic Evil Other: ★Tsukasa tends to try and physically gut things that get in his way. ☆His main attacking methods are slamming his victims heads into a hard surface, typically to give them a concussion, or knock them out, or the aforementioned: gutting. ★His favorite thing is his twin brother, Amane!</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Ruins Dante slowly started stepping towards the demons in a nonchalant manner. He knew these guys in and out, so he figured he would wait for them to make the first move. The first one struck, a Hell's Pride with a downward diagonal slash of it's scythe. However, before it could even bring the scythe down far enough, Dante already whipped out his pistol and shot it in the stomach. Hah, too slow. As the Hell's Pride fell lifeless to the ground, Dante continued his casual walk towards the rest of the demons without missing a step, as if the Hell's Pride hadn't even attacked him at all The next Hell's Pride came at him from the left, delivering an underhanded swipe of it's own scythe. In one smooth motion, Dante immediately dodged the slash with a casual sidestep, leaving him now standing behind the demon, and playfully tapped in on the shoulder. The Hell's Pride quickly swung the scythe in Dante's direction again, the inertia of the scythe swing turning its body towards Dante. Dante immediately saw the swing and reacted by making a quick leap into the air before the scythe could reach him. He then landed on the handle of the scythe as the demon finished its swing and stood on it for a second. "From here, you can get a great look at my boots!" Dante said right before performing a forward spinning kick straight into the demon's face. The Hell's Pride was launched backwards and landed unconscious about 10 feet away from Dante, who himself landed on his feet and continued his way towards the demon horde. Piece of cake The final Hell's Pride came rushing at him from the right and made a swift sideways strike at chest level. Dante countered with his sword, and 2 blades immediately clashed together. Sparks flew as Dante ground his sword against the scythe, pushing it in just a way in an attempt disarm the Hell's Pride. It worked, and as the scythe flew out of the demon's hands, Dante made a series of fast sword slashes of his own across its chest. He finished flurry of attacks with an upward swing, which launched the Hell's Pride straight into the air. Before the Hell's Pride landed, Dante then pulled out his second pistol and unloaded a storm of bullets into it. As it got shot it flew even farther in the air, the force of the constant barrage of bullets keeping it in the air, and then finally landed a bloody, bullet riddled mess of a corpse Dante turned to face the final demons and held out his arms in a 'come at me' kind of pose. "If that's the best you got, this'll last all of 30 seconds!" Dante bragged with a smirk of confidence on his face. However, as he spoke he was blindsided by the feeling of a fireball hitting him from behind. As he staggered forward, he quickly turned around to get a look at the assailant. It was one of those other demons that came out of the portal, one of the ones from Doom Slayer's world. Well, Dante presumed they were anyway. It looked faster, more crazy and aggressive than the ones Dante was used to fighting. Suddenly, Dante's mind flashed back to the beginning of the fight, remembering when Doom Slayer put away his shotgun, and had an idea. Before he could do anything however, the strange demon had already closed the distance between the 2 and made a swipe at him. Dante quickly shifted his torso to the side to dodge it at the last second, and then turned towards Doom Slayer. "Yo, crazy soldier guy! Toss me that shotgun! Y'know, the one you aren't using!" Dante shouted across the battlefield to Doom Slayer. Dante figured he could probably take this thing on his own, but where was the fun in that? ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City It looked like the troops weren't backing down, and were insisting that he should drop his weapons. Chief had already made up his mind that wasn't gonna happen, and he didn't like the idea of a fight but he had no idea who these guys were and he wasn't willing to put his trust in a squad of soldiers who immediately aim their weapons at him, especially in the place he was in right now. Waiting any longer was just delaying the inevitable Chief fired the first shot, a well aimed three round burst at the hands of the front soldier in the group. As he fired the shots, he quickly started taking steps backwards, both to make him a harder target to hit as well as to make his way towards the air conditioning unit behind him for cover</s> <\|message\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Skulduggery Pleasant&Valkyrie Cain Location - Snowy Forest --- Skulduggery kept his gun aimed at the strange man, who he now knew as Inosuke Hasibira. He found the name a little strange but it wasn't quite the weirdest he had heard in his time. Valkyrie had picked herself up off the ground and stood beside Skulduggery. She was somewhat annoyed at being attacked for no reason, especially by some guy wearing a boar mask over his head. "Are you going to shoot him?" Valkyrie quietly whispered to Skulduggery. The Skeleton Detective turned to his partner upon hearing this question. "Most likely not. Why, did you want to use that new power of yours?" Valkyrie gave him a little nod and stepped forward towards Inosuke, white lighting beginning to crackle in her hands and without a second wasted, she shot the lighting out at their boar-masked attacker. Toph Beifong Location: Desert --- Toph, as usual, was finding it rather difficult to move in this desert sand. She tried making it easier on herself by condensing the sand so he could walk on it without worrying about falling over. Suddenly, she heard the noise of something landing in front of her followed by a voice. The voice did not sound like anyone she has heard before and her immediate reaction was to jump back and get into a fighting stance just in case things turned out bad. Though Toph knew that if things did turn into a fight, she would most certainly be at a disadvantage because of the current terrain. "Who are you? Why do you sound like that?" Toph asked, confused on why whoever she was talking to squawked like a bird. Vader's Fist Location: City - Office Building --- Before the troopers could get close enough to Chief, the squad leader had his weapon shot out of his hands. The Commander noticed this hostile action and ordered his troops to open fire. "Take him out!" Blaster shots zoomed through the air as the stormtroopers tried to hit their enemy. They couldn't quite get a clear shot on Chief by the way he was moving and soon enough, he had taken cover behind an air conditioning unit. The troopers recomposed themselves and slowly begun moving towards where they last saw their enemy.</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Chief watched as the troops opened fire on him and the shots got absorbed by his suit's energy shield. His shields were dropping fast, he had to move quickly. He finally dove behind the air conditioning unit after 3 seconds and hunkered down behind it, reloading his battle rifle and watching his shield indicator on his HUD As he waited for the shield indicator to fill back up, he noticed something: their weapons were using energy. Chief was somewhat familiar with energy based weapons for human troops, but most of them were high powered heavy artillery. He had never seen or even heard of any standard issue human rifles that used energy based ammunition before, especially like the ones these troops were using. And were they laser or plasma? Chief couldn't tell because they flew through the air and didn't appear instantaneously, much like plasma rounds, but at the same time they sure did have the appearance of laser based ammunition. Chief had no idea how to assess these troops Chief felt like maybe the odds were maybe a little less in his favor than he thought. He looked down at the token in his left hand and thought, maybe it was time to make the odds a little more even. He clutched the tokens in his left hand as he raised them up. "A squad of ODSTs in drop pods" Chief said fairly loudly, but not loud enough to hear over the blaster fire. Chief felt the tokens in his hands slowly deteriorate into shapeless smoke before fading away entirely A couple seconds passed and nothing seemed to happen. Chief was wondering maybe the tokens were just fake and didn't actually do anything, but then he soon caught something out of the corner of his eye (as well as the troopers if they were paying attention). In the sky, there were 5 mysterious silhouettes flying down in the direction of the building at an alarmingly fast speed. As they flew closer more detailing could be seen, appearing to be some kind of metallic pods. Closer and closer the flew before all of them finally impacting on the roof of the building with a series of loud 'CRASHES' and debris flying everywhere. As the dust settled, the troopers would be able to see them in clear detail. Each pod was oblong shaped and about double the size of a human. They appeared to have some kind of hatches on them, indicating the pods were holding something inside</s>	<\|message\|>Inosuke Hashibira Tsukasa Location: Futuristic City --- Tsukasa simply hummed and nodded as the other spoke, gaze following where Lucifer's finger pointed over his shoulder, blinking owlishly at the battered apartment building. Turning back his attention on the man, one of the ghoulish black orbs drifted away from his side, nosing through the rubble, before it vanished into the building. The supernatural lowered his arms back to his side, drawing his shoulders up in a languid shrug. "I'm just curious, I suppose. Amane always did call me nosy. Furthering that thought-- You aren't human, are you? There's no way a normal mortal would have survived, well, falling through an apartment building. What are you?" --- INOSUKE Location: Snowy Forest --- Inosuke grinned at the growing promise of a fight,-- he'd finally goaded someone into one! It's been so long! --dropping into his typical low to the ground attack crouch, flipping his blades to face the two. The two conversed for a second, frustrating Inosuke, before the girl finally shot a blast of lighting at him. What the hell? Was she a demon or something? Taken off guard, the masked man barely managed to dodge the attack, sandals slipping on the snow as he darted out of the way. "The hell was that?" Dropping himself low again, Inosuke propelled himself in their direction, tipping the back of his blade in the girl's direction and making a swipe for her ankles in an attempt to put her off balance, wary of the man and his gun. Maybe if he could unbalance her, he could use that to shove her in the skull faced man's direction, and stagger him too! He's a genius! "I like you two! You both make me have to think!" He cackled.</s>
<\|description\|>Maya Dozier Maya Dozier --- Essentials Nickname(s): Doz Gender: Female Age: 23 Birthday: June 15 Affiliation: None, yet Written Appearance: Maya stands at a height of 5'6 with an athletic figure. Often seen holding herself with confidence, she seems much taller than she is. During casual situations, her red hair is usually let loose. However, when she is on her job, she ties it back so that it's less of a hindrance. Her body is filled with scars both monsters and accident inflicted, but she carries them with a certain amount of pride as well. --- --- Personal Personality: A thrill seeker through and through, Maya would risk both life and limb for a little excitement in her life. She takes many calculated risks that others would call reckless - and to a certain extent, they are reckless and could cause her death one of these days. However, she stands by them because where's the fun in safety? She's relatively easygoing as a person and is rather friendly to most; as long as they don't attack her, she won't attack either. She's often called out for not being serious about Zero Time or anything of the sorts - but she does take it seriously, she just wants to have fun along the way. However, she harbors indecisiveness in her system which has cost her many things - such as not knowing which family to join or what to actually fight for. In the end, she fights to both sustain herself and to simply be able to help. Likes:* Fighting * Adventure * Magic * Knives * Blades Dislikes:* Needless confrontation * Aggression * ZT Monsters Strengths:* Maya's magic makes it easier to overwhelm an opponent by attacking from multiple sides. * Resourceful to a fault, Maya can make almost anything into a weapon as long as she can lift it. The use of the environment around her is an integral part of her fighting style. * Agility and flexibility are things she can boast about but her ability on her board is what really catches the eyes of other people. Weaknesses:* Due to her reckless nature, she finds no problems in taking on high risks which has cost her injuries in the past. * Maya's main line of defense are her items. Her body can only take so many hits before going down herself as it is woefully average. * Due to not having any loyalty to any of the Three Families, Maya doesn't have access to many allies or contacts. Relationships* Christopher Dozier [Father \| Alive] - Current patriarch of the small Dozier family. He and Maya have a good standing relationship despite her being the only one in her family who hasn't chosen a side. * Isumi Dozier [Mother \| Sick but alive] - Currently being treated at the local hospital, Isumi also has a good relationship with her daughter. However, her condition seems to only grow worse. * Yasuhiro Dozier [Older Brother \| Alive] - The two of them go out for coffee sometimes and they rely on each other when worse comes to worse. He's currently part of the Akechi family. * Haruka Dozier [Older sister \| Alive] - Haruka and Maya are rather close though, much like Yasuhiro, they don't meet up as frequently as before. Their siblings bonding time are scheduled every other week. She's currently in the Isamu family. Backstory: Born into a small family of mages, a Dozier is trained to be able to utilize their soul into magic at a young age. The Dozier family had migrated to Mahoukyo to be closer to what was rumored to be the highest concentration of Soul in the entire world. However, they were quickly put into their place by the three families that monopolized the city for their own gain. Instead of retaliation or outright joining any of the three families, the Dozier family became an independent group of mages. As the years passed, the family became more lenient in their study of Soul and allowed their members to disperse however they wanted. This led to the Dozier family being sectioned off and being inducted into one of the three Families. Maya was born in this time - bright eyed at the sight of magic being performed by both of her parents and her older siblings. She was quick to take on to the role of learning them. Maya's life went by normally up until Yasuhiro decided to pack up and join the Akechi family after he was noticed in being useful. Haruka was not far behind in leaving for Isamu. Christopher expected for Maya to follow suit as well - choosing which side of the war she would be on. However, Maya could not choose and decided to follow the path her ancestors had done before - become independent. Though her father had warned her that it would be difficult, she soldiered on. By 17, she was already venturing out herself to aid in Zero Time, using her father's hover board gift to be able to traverse the night city quickly and to respond even quicker. She found herself wanting to come back for more, if anything, so that she would be able to push back the monotonous life of not living on the edge of safety. As the years pressed on and Maya became more well known for her skills as an independent, she had started to frequent the territories in search of mercenary work or to simply befriend anyone there. It usually wasn't ideal due ot the bad blood between the families but they treated her professionally or friendly enough. Maya simply helps with the eradications of monsters and the aid of people - which usually lands her with the Isamu family - and would never dip into sabotage of other families. --- Magic High \| Intermediate \| Talented Maya's magic lies within the free control of objects within her range. Using magic, she can physically move objects without touching them and be able to either have fine control over them or to launch them at high speeds equivalent to that of a bullet - or even more if more soul is used. However, there is a necessary charge up sequence before she is able to shoot them out. Her reach is a twenty meter radius but the further it is from her, the harder it is for her to control. The most she can do with an object at her furthest distance is a simple push or pull. It is also difficult for her to control an object that has a force already acting upon it - such as a bullet that has been shot or a sword that is being slashed. The most she can do with those are simply redirection unless she had ample time to charge up enough force to counteract it. --- Other * Over the years, she has amassed a few items - both magical and not - to aid her in her hunt which includes: + Tres - Shaped like a skateboard made of metal, a mana stone was inserted into it so that it would have the ability to fly. This is suplemented by Maya's telekinesis that allow her more advanced manuevers. The board can be strapped onto her back using magic. + Ammo pack - Something she had been saving up for years, the ammo pack is strapped onto her waste and contains an enchantment that allows for the storage of so much more things than what it is logically able to carry. She currently has forty knifes and six daggers inside. + Wand - Her actual magic item that she uses to be able to use her magic more finely than before. + Two Shields - Not magical by any means but certainly durable enough to sustain a couple of hits, it is one of her emergency defense objects. + Katana - One that she keeps around for emergency cases, she rarely uses magic when she begins relying on her katana. She has some background on proper technique. * Has been and will always be free to be hired so long as it isn't directionally sabotaging or harming a Family member. * Also has been seen working for the government as an independent fighter --- --- Rena Kirizaki</s> <\|message\|>⚫ Artemis Rin. Interactions ⚫ @Kestrel. Location ⚫ Rikimaru Fun House. Zeke, a rather enigmatic individual to say the least, someone whose reputation was found in the culinary arts, among other peculiar venues. One would be a fool to dismiss the man's cooking, truly, but knives which had been presented afforded another side to the chef. "So demanding," Artemis grinned, his slender fingers tracing across a knife handle which he had been so graciously afforded. Only a moment's passing was required for emerald energy to lick across Artemis' digits, where a replica of the item manifested itself into the material world. "And I will be anticipating your present, Zeke," the young marksman spoke, a newly replicated trinket dancing between his digits in a graceful display. "For one does not simply tease another, with Sauerkraut," Artemis winked, handing the weapon he had brought into being to his ally. With a stretch, the young assassin rose to his feet, a hand reaching below his jacket to produce a pistol, it's silvery surface reflecting the surrounding with a polished tint. Retracting then mantel, he did well in reminding himself of the enchanted ammunition within, before once more holstering the firearm. "I will procure my rifle and make myself comfortable on a rooftop," Artemis proclaimed, before starting towards the exit. "Ta-ta," the boy waved, "let's make the best of this Null Time, yes?" Opening the door, Artemis began on a path up the stairs, with an ultimate destination in mind. Home. It was where he kept his weapons, and one could certainly not trust other faction members with them. Making himself scarce, the boy pushed open the cafe door, making his way into the streets. Zero Time at the very least offered target practice. A silver lining, one might say.</s> <\|message\|>Kurokami Takuto Takuto --- Takuto wordlessly nodded at Hector's praise. It felt a little hollow considering that his punctuality was just 'exemplary' when you compared it to the others' but he would take whatever praise he could get. Especially coming from him. Having nothing better to do and wait he slumped over a chair and quietly waited for the other two to arrive, which would take a while. Hearing over steps he regained his upright position as Cassius entered the meeting room, quickly moving his gaze away into whatever that wasn't Cassius' general direction. It didn't take much deduction on Takuto's part to notice that he was mad at him, and probably for the petty reason of arriving earlier than him. He turned his gaze into the ceiling once Cassius moved into the chair opposite of him. If Takuto didn't acknowledge he would probably stop bothering him sooner or later. Thankfully the other members arrived not too long after and the meeting could start proper. It seemed today's mission wasn't going to be a normal one, but to be fair when was it ever been normal?. Collecting soul essence while warding off monsters and other factions was enough of a problem, and now they had to deal with all of those things plus a soul absorbing monster and the veins messing up the battlegrounds. Takuto stretched his arms, this was going to be a pain. Mutated or not the monster was probably still vulnerable to his magic, meaning that it might not be such a difficult task bringing it down, as long as they catch it before he absorbs the other soul veins that is. On the other hand, the monster's nature gives it a giant target behind his back so the other factions are just as likely to hunt it down, which will make going for the kill shot difficult. With all this, Takuto didn't know if their reduced time limit was a blessing in disguise or another list of trouble to add into the pile. At the very least he would get out of work early, even if it meant that everyone would be rushing towards gathering soul essence. Standing up from his chair he tucked his hands into the pockets of his suit while he waited for everyone to get ready. Five minutes weren't that of much time to prepare, and he was practically ready as he had no magic wands or relics to take out. Which speaking of, Takuto hoped that Hector would place him at a reasonable distance away from Ms.Dozier. As she had a bit of a collection of items and the last thing he needed was having to pay for another broken item.</s>	<\|message\|>Maya Dozier Current contractor: Akechi family Location: Akechi Meeting Area --- Maya gave Hector a shrug. "Contract says as long as I'm here on 1600 sharp, then I'm golden. Wouldn't want to intrude in family matters by being too early." A little straightforward. A little informal, especially for her contractors who were sticklers for rules and formality to the point of it being a little terrifying. But in Hector's words, she was but a simple mercenary untrained in their ways. However, as long as she isn't truly breaking the contract, then she technically wasn't doing anything wrong. Once the briefing started, Maya silenced herself and leaned on the wall, idly playing with a throwing knife as she listened. Typical formation, as usual, Maya would help cover those trying to recover the Soul Essence by combating the monsters that resided within Zero Time. But in this case, it seemed like they were going to purely deal with a monster and maybe get a few veins if they could. But that wasn't really what Maya was there for. All she had to worry about was the monster. Interfamily strife was none of her business. If the families fight amongst each other for Soul Essence, then that's their problem not hers. All she needed was her payment and some momentary protection. It was worrying that Zero Time was warped enough for their time to be shortened but the Akechi family could likely work around it. Once they were dismissed to collect their things, Maya stayed in her position as she inspected the knife she was already holding. Of course, she can in already prepared. It wasn't like she could store anything in the family's warehouse. She threw it up for a moment and let it stay floating in mid-air, spinning wildly before stopping suddenly and plopping back on her hand. With that, she slipped it back into her small pack and stretched, craning her head towards the others and offering them a small smile. "Good luck out there, yeah?" She called out, sparing a glance at the other Akechi member who looked like he was ready to kill. "If you guys need any help or just some quick transport, don't hesitate to call me over as always."</s>
<\|description\|>Axel Jandad A foreign exchange student. From France! He's still getting used to speaking, but he's pretty good. He's got messy blond-brown hair and surely muscles under those jackets he never seems to take off - if this was a romance, he would be the love interest. Ella Weider A star athlete, through and through. She's tall, towering over most of the boys in your class. HAGAY is a little small to have its own sports teams, unfortunately, so she does all of that outside of school. It's almost impossible to organise stuff with her. She's constantly busy. Emma Tailler Possibly the best pianist anyone will ever meet. Reliable and kind, she's a bit of a go to if you ever need anything. If there's anything the whole class has in common, it's that everyone is friends with Emma. Herbert Baker Shows up to class maybe once a week and still manages to do better than you on every exam. One of the many mysteries of life is how he hasn't been kicked out yet. HAGAY must be all about results, it seems. Jackson Burgess No one's really sure how he's in the school. Out of everyone, he's the most average. His grades are just okay, his family isn't particularly rich. The accepted conclusion is that he does well on tuition exams by luck. Larissa Woods If a brick wall was ever turned into a woman, that would be Larissa. Talking to her is drier than the Sahara desert. Somehow, she manages to have friends. Just two, though. Mina Mason An art prodigy. Her family is one of the least wealthy in the class, and it's thanks to her talent and work ethic that allow her to continue to study at HAGAY. She's known to become a shut-in during the build-up to tuition exams. Mook Genera A doormat. He tends to fade into the background, even though he's one of the best students in the class. It isn't like he's boring, he just lacks presence. Majorly. Morgan Weld Not a single photo of him exists where he wears anything other than black. His hair, his eyes, they're all black too. It's rumoured that his natural hair colour is ginger, but no one can prove it. Neu Ronald A pretentious prick. Annoyingly, he's not wrong. That doesn't make him any less unlikeable. It's said that he doesn't need glasses and only wears them to look smart. Porche Pinkerton Planned to transfer in at the beginning of junior year. The daughter of a pair of well known musicians and known for being stuck up and little else. In terms of academics? Who knows. Sebastian Roth Another musical talent, a man of many mysteries as well as many instruments. There isn't really any way to describe him other than 'emo'. He hardly ever talks to anyone except for Seth. Seth Wall A friendly (but short) boy. He's pretty middle of the road, but as of late he's began to really try and pick up his grades. No one's really sure what caused the change. Samuel Funker The resident crackhead. Yam Lee The outsider of the class. Not because people don't like her, but she just isolates herself. Her father is the CEO of a technology company, which is just as well, because her grades have been steadily declining ever since freshman year.</s> <\|message\|>Axel Jandad Today's Date: Tuesday 8th of September, 2020 Today's Weather: 13°C, Cloudy In The News: A ridiculously angry review of Ready Player One. Calendar: 08-09-20 : school begins</s> <\|message\|>Axel Jandad --- The sky was grey. So were the streets, paved stones covered in puddles from the rain the night before. The exhaust fumes were grey and the concrete buildings too. Greyest of all was the particular occasion - yes, after weeks and weeks of doing absolutely nothing in particular, the students of Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents & Youths would have to return to their desks for yet another semester. The building was small, but it was vast compared to the very few students attending it. There were never more than thirty people in each year. To begin with, attending the school was incredibly demanding. Hefty tuitions only subsidised by excelling in academics or arts - and even then, it was still expensive. Attending Harbour Academy was a luxury few could afford. Very, very few. There was still some time until the school bell rang. Even so, it seemed like most of the students had already arrived in school, chatting idly while they still could. There was an awful lot to catch up on, and not nearly enough time. The instant that classes started again, it was work, work, work until four in the afternoon. That was, of course, disregarding the obscene amount of extra-curriculars that the students often had. That was the price of attending the prestigious Harbour Academy. On top of tens of thousands of dollars, of course. The class of 2022 was passing the time in the yard, arranged in small groups across several picnic tables. There were even less than there had been the year before. They'd began their sophomore year with seventeen people. Only thirteen of these people had stayed another year. It wasn't unusual at Harbour Academy. At the end of the year, students had to take even more exams to determine their tuition fees for the next year. All it took was one bad day and suddenly you were paying thousands more than the year before. It was often better to accept the shame and just transfer. At the same time, students tended to join at the start of the year too. "Are we getting three more this year?" Ella Weider asked. She traced the patterns of her water bottle, staring at it intently. "Hmm? Yeah, but one of them is an exchange student," came the reply from across the table. Emma Tailler, skimming through a textbook less than an hour before her lesson started. She'd planned to flip through the whole thing before school had started, but she didn't think she could at that rate. "Axel, right? Then one of the other ones is the daughter of that musician. Andrew Pinkerton. And the other one, damn. Can't remember." Ella laughed. "Don't worry, we'll find out soon enough. Anyway, that doesn't matter. A little birdie told me you have a date this weekend. Em, you gotta tell me..." Emma's spluttering was quickly covered up by the splitting screech of the school bell. Her saviour. Red-faced, she rushed to her homeroom, while Ella quickly walked after her, laughing heartily. The rest of the class soon followed, taking their time to savour the time they had left. There were already three people in the classroom as people began to file in. Their teacher, Mr Spelwel - the same as last year, an overly enthusiastic English teacher. Then, two new students. The chatting began to settle down as people began claiming their seats. There was sort of an unofficial seating plan with the old students. Since they had so many lessons all together, it didn't take long until everyone had their 'designated' place. Spelwel clapped his hands together, grinning brightly. Silence fell over the class. "Alright, everyone! As you know, three new victim- er, students will be joining us this year! Unfortunately, our exchange student won't be in class until next week, but at least we have these two!" He gave them both a thump on the back. One of them, a blonde girl, grimaced at the contact. "Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them." The blonde girl flipped her hair and opened her mouth, about to speak. Then she hesitated, suddenly becoming bashful. "Porche. Porche Pinkerton. Um, it's nice to meet you all. I'm... a vegetarian." She dipped her head in some sort of greeting. It was enough for Spelwel. "Fantastic! You next," he said, placing his hand on the other student's shoulder with considerable force. "Come on, don't be shy!"</s> <\|message\|>James León (León Rivers) --- "¿Vas a estar bien?" "Mama, se preocupa demasiado. Todo irá bien." "Mmh. Diviértete." James snatched his briefcase and flew out the front door of 219 Wade Street. He had a bike, sure, but the school was only a 20 minute walk away. He liked to walk. It gave him time to think. James considered himself quite good at thinking, but by no means was he an expert. Anyone who was a master at thinking went and lived on high-up mountains in China or Tibet or some other equally distant Asian country. Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents and Youths, huh? He thought. HAGAY was the most prestigious school in a town of prestigious people. Cape Cove was the home of a rapidly growing medicinal market, and where there was medicine, there was money. Not only were there doctors and high-paying patients, but also everything else a spanky-wanky new hospital town needed to sustain itself. Hotels, restaurants, playplaces like the cinema or that new bowling alley on 3rd Avenue. Cape Cove needed nurses, janitors, receptionists, accountants, people to fill the many jobs and duties in town. Lawyers, too. Well, soon there would be a new occupation Cape Cove could claim possesion of- mystery writer extraordinaire- but only if he could get his shit together and write something good for once. James passed by some other teenagers walking in directions antithetical to his. Students of the other schools in town, no doubt. HAGAY only enrolled a hundred students spread over multiple years- around 15 or so per grade. He stopped at the school gate. What a grey place! The architecture was incredible, but the color design was so odd- almost as if the architect was colorblind. It blended in so well with the grey Virginia weather that he had almost missed the damn thing! "No sense losing my nerve now, ah?" James said to nobody in particular, which was good, for no other students were loitering at the entrace to hear him. He checked his watch, a gift from his late paternal grandfather. He was somewhat early. "Might as well head to the classroom." He showed his student ID to the guard at the gate and stepped inside. The courtyard leading up to the school was a good deal prettier than the entrance- soon the fall colors would come into a beautiful symphony of reds and oranges. James snapped a quick picture with his phone- the first of what he hoped would be many happy photos of the school year. The halls were also mostly empty, save for an adult or two that rushed by James without a word. Last-minute preparations, no doubt. James could relate. He often procrastinated important essays until the night before the due date, a habit would have to work on if he wanted to succeed in the coming year. As he entered the classroom, James noticed one other student- a blonde girl- already there, speaking quietly with a bespectacled man who he recognized as Mr Spelwel, his teacher. They turned as he entered. "Ah, James, how good to meet you in person! I've heard a lot about you, and I'm excited to see how you perform this year!" Mr Spelwel stuck out his hand. James shook it. "Likewise. I'll be in your care. I hope that-" The screech of the morning bell interrupted James. Mr Spelwel laughed. "That's alright. We can have a proper introduction once everyone comes in. I'm sure everyone will welcome you just fine. Here they come now!" HAGAY's class of 2020 entered Room 201 like a flock of swans. Disorganized, wacky swans, but swans nonetheless. Each student carried themselves in a way that emphasized how they deserved to be in one of the top secondary institutions in the country. Several of them gave James looks that reminded him of the look a cat gives a mouse before eating it. He swallowed. Did cats play with their food before eating it? Did cats eat the mice at all? Or was that something that the portrayal from- Mr Spelwel gave James a hearty slap on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. The thin teacher's frame certainly belied his arm strength. "Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them." The blond girl was apparently vegetarian. He would have to remember that. It was his turn now. Spelwel pushed his hand down on James's shoulder. Easy now. Good first impression. These people have known each other for ages now, but that doesn't matter. You're not an outsider, you're just a couple years late to the party. That's like, not that much of a person's life, right? 1/40th the total lifetime of an average person, maybe? "Ah, hey everyone! I'm James León. I like mystery and crime novels and writing!" He smiled and clapped his hands together. "I look forward to the coming year with you all!"</s>	<\|message\|>Axel Jandad Awkward silence spread over the class. The only noise was of people shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. Spelwel grinned. "Fab! Alright, let's go around the class, one row at a time. Let's start with... Yam! Tell us your name and something about yourself." "Oh. Okay. Um, my name's Yam Lee-" she began. "No, no, no! You have to stand up. Come on, don't be shy." Yam gave him a disgusted look and stood. "I'm Yam, and my favourite colour is blue." She promptly collapsed back into her chair. "Great! Next is... oh, Herbert, you're actually in. Shame Samuel couldn't join you. You next." "Wha..?" "Yes, that's enough. Next..." "I'm Mook, and I-" "I'm Jackson! I have the highest Subway Surfers score out of the entire state." "Sebastian. I play cello." "My name's Seth! I've got a sister. We're twins." "Emma Tailler, I have three pet dogs." "I have art up in three different galleries. I'm Mina Mason, by the way." "Elizabeth, but call me Ella. I like... horses?" "Larissa." "Morgan, and I used-" "To be ginger," Herbert grunted from the front of the room. Morgan hissed. "No! I didn't!" "Moving on, moving on," Spelwel sighed. "Neu?" "My name is Neu Ronald, and I'm the smartest person in this room," he said smugly. A lot of huffing followed. "Wonderful. Now, moving on," Spelwel continued. He gestured for Porche and James to sit, then continued. "First, I have to give out some things...</s>
<\|description\|>Tiberius Nero Delamar Nickames -T -Ty Age Twenty-one Gender Male Year Third Reason of Admission Legacy (Fifth generation). Major Major in Psychology, Minor in Digital Art. Sexuality Bi-sexual. Relationship Status Currently curious about Junie Macmillian Label Edgy Asshole Appearance Details * Hair: Extremely dark brown, often mistaken for black.\| Cut so that it is longer on the top, and shorter on the sides and back of his head. Sometimes let's it grow out to where it is shaggy. \| The longer pieces are usually combed back in a wave like style. * Eyes: Sapphire blue. * Height: Six feet, four inches. * Body Type: Thin and muscular, most often defined as Ectomorph. Most of his muscle can be found in his arms. * Clothing Style: Alternative \| Mostly the color black. Skinny jeans, tanktops, dress shirts, slacks, lot's of leather, studded belts, owns a suit or two. * Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: To many tattoos to count. Most of them are located on his upper body, his left arm is covered. Some of them can be found on his chest and back, with a handful on the right arm as well. Left ear is pierced, along with his right nostril and the left side of his bottom lip. Personality Traits Debonair - Stubborn - Loyal - Egotistical - Determined - Blunt - Adventurous/Thrill Seeker/Adrenaline Junkie - Territorial - Closed Off - Protective - Aggressive - Daring/Brave - Patient - Curious Upbringing Synopsis Tiberius was the older twin by seven minutes. Born into a failing marriage, Ty was the wanted twin, but that didn't win him many favors with his parents. The nanny Rosalinda raised him and his sister Jasper for the most part, influencing them to do the things they loved. Their father had always been abusive, but really started to get physical when Ty was 10 - around the time of Marie's car crash, heavy drinking, and addiction. While Marie lashed out at Jasper about her weight, and ultimately treated her son like a ghost, Nicholas lashed out at both of his children physically. Each time this would happen, Ty would put himself between his father and sister, forcing his father to direct most of his anger at him. The first handful of times that the abuse occurred, Jasper was unfortunately involved, but eventually Nicholas got so fed up and tired with his son making a scene that Ty's goal was accomplished. School was decent. Both he and his sister made decent grades, though it was hard to focus on school and have perfect GPA's with everything going on at home. Bruises were disguised under the lie that they were received during baseball practice or playing outside. Broken bones were not common, but came in sets of two or three at a time. Due to his influence at the hospital, Nicholas was never questioned about his sons condition there. While he tried to be there for his sister in every way that he could, Ty's encouragement of her to eat and moral support just wasn't enough. It was some sort of strange relief to the twins when their mother died when they were fifteen. Sadly, Nicholas's abuse did not stop until Ty was seventeen. At this time, Tiberius had built up the strength both physically and mentally to fight back. After a few brawls, his father finally stopped hurting him, but continued to punch holes in the walls, break things, etc. Thanks to Rosalinda, Ty found a passion for drawing at fifteen. She co-signed for him to get a tattoo at a shady ink shop on his seventeenth birthday, and he's been in love with the art of tattoos ever since. He is currently attending Meadow University to support Jasper, and because he was forced into it by his father. In order to get his grandparents and father to shut up about pursuing art, Ty is currently doubly majoring in psychology as well. Family Marie Nicole Delamar - Former Fashion Model - Mother - Deceased Nicholas Michael Delamar - Esteemed Neurologist - Father - Age 53 Jasper Vivionna Delamar - College Student - 'Younger' Sister/Twin - Age 21 Misc. Andy Biersack \|8DC73F Font: Cool -> True Lies -Loves Rock music. -Would die for his sister in a heart beat and will do nearly anything for her, or to protect her. -Enjoys studying people and getting to know them. He loves being able to find out peoples habits, quirks, dreams, etc. -Often does not think about the consequences of his actions, leading him into trouble. -Is majoring in psychology to get his parents to shut up. -Horror movies are his favorite. -Whiskey is his best friend. 50 First Dates</s> <\|message\|>Alaric Micheal Sterling After the whole Theo and Cassian shenanigan Alaric tried to catch up to Mac, he didn't expect her to be such a slippery snake though and ended up losing her in the crowd of wasted college students. His party mood had been shot and the blonde just decided to ditch the dirty woods in favor of the comfort of his own bedroom. For the rest of that night he drowned himself in liquor and weed, ignoring anyone who might have tried to knock on his door or talk to him. At some point he blacked out and the rest of the night had been forgotten. ~ The most annoying sound ever woke Alaric up, his hand shooting out from underneath his comforter and fumbling around for his phone. "It cannot be morning yet..." the boy grumbled, squinting as he looked at his phone. He had a million text messages from people, half of them he didn't even know. After opening several of them it turned out to just be the same thing, a video of two idiots going at it during the "Great Bash". He could see himself in the video, standing off to the side with a bottle of alcohol in hand. "Oh that's just fucking perfect." At the rate the damn thing was spreading Alaric had no doubt someone in his family would show the video to dear-old dad. Awesome. As he just laid there going through his phone a new notification popped up, an assembly or something was going to go down in an hour. Alaric knew it'd be about the party, school was too damn uppity to let something like a viral fight go without any consequences. Honestly this day could not get any worse. ~ Apparently it could, was this old hag really throwing Academic Probation at all of them? Alaric could already feel a headache beginning to say hello and sitting there listening to students around him panic wasn't really making it better. He wanted a drink, one that was strong enough to knock him on his ass for awhile. Completely done with the day already, Alaric got up and walked out of the auditorium. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket and began to head back towards his dorm, he thankfully didn't have any classes till later which meant he could smoke something before hand. He didn't get vary far though, just to one side of the courtyard before he heard a cascade of ring tones go off all at once including his own. He could have waited until he got back to his room but curiosity got the best of him and Alaric pulled out his phone. It took his muddled brain a moment to comprehend the message he was reading. Questions came to mind: Who was Nate again and why did he have his number? Why was he touching Jasper, even if it was an accident? Lastly, he needed to find out what he looked like so he could have a little...chat with him. Jealousy and anger were not emotions Alaric usually felt unless it involved his father, but today was an exception. Things were starting to pile up, a possible lecture from his father and the academic probation was enough to make want to drink till he passed out but now knowing someone was trying to move in on the girl he liked made him want to punch something...hard. Shoving his phone into his pocket Alaric took a deep breath, where was one of his peppy pals when he needed one?</s> <\|message\|>Ramona Michelle Martin ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂Given the amount of alcohol she'd consumed the night before, it would probably come as a great surprise to many to see how energetic and alive Mona seemed to be that morning as she made her way across campus to attend the eight o'clock assembly. As usual, Mona had gotten up at around six-thirty to prepare for her morning exercises; she'd decided that it would be best to simply head to the assembly following her jog around campus. Mona did feel slightly off as drew closer to the auditorium, her feet pounding the pavement and her lips mouthing the lyrics to the song that blasted through her earbuds. Although she didn't have a killer headache, there was a slight churn in her stomach as she pushed on. There weren't enough painkillers or Martin family remedies in the world that could change that. But as she finally stepped foot into the crowded space and began her search for an empty seat, it was pretty obvious that she felt a lot better than how some of her classmates looked. Mona's eyes instantly landed upon Nate as she walked down the aisle; he sat with a girl she barely recognized, and Mona could tell by the look on his face, as well as his current outfit, that he was in a hell of a lot of pain. Part of her felt slightly guilty for pushing the young man to drink as much as he did. Maybe then he wouldn't be in the state he was now. Ramona took the first empty seat she could find, which happened to be closer to the front of the room; she sat in between a guy who still reeked of alcohol, and a girl who could barely keep her eyes open long enough to see the Headmistress signal for their silence, let alone sit upright in her chair. With one of her earbuds still pumping neo-soul into her ear, Mona passively listened as the Headmistress began to speak. She clapped along when instructed to, and nearly fell out of her seat when it was announced that they'd all been placed on Academic Probation. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Mona said, mostly to herself as the room erupted in a cacophony of conversation. "She can't just do that to the entire Junior class... right? That's bullshit." When Mona realized that her two seating neighbors weren't paying her any mind, she quickly stood from her chair and followed the rest of the crowd out of the auditorium. Mona's first instinct was to pull out her cell phone and send a quick message to Junie, but as she furiously typed and made a beeline for the cafeteria, a sudden text message from Nate made her stop in her tracks. "Groping me at the bash... huh?" Mona said, trying to comprehend the message that was displayed on her phone. "Nate, are you still drunk or something, dude?" Mona was prepared to type out a response, but it was in that moment that Mona also noticed that she wasn't the only one in the courtyard who'd received a notification. Her eyes widened as she realized that the message was sent to all of Nate's contacts. "Yikes."</s>	<\|message\|>Tiberius Nero Delamar Ty's night had gone out with a bang - literally. Junie had quite a few tricks up her sleeve, and Ty had absolutely zero problems with it. Whatever had been going on between them had finally started to reach a peak, and the young man was more than grateful for that. Giving her the option rather to dine out or eat in, Junie had chosen to eat at his apartment. Getting to work on their meal, Ty was happy when she joined in to help slice the fruit. For the first time in his life, Tiberius was having a movie scene moment - and he loved every moment of it. After Junie had left, Ty collapsed on his bed, exhausted from last night and ever so slightly hung over. There was a dull ache in his head, and he was surprised to say that his back was actually sore. Sure, he had had a few girls scratch his back from time to time, but Junie? It was like the girl was marking her territory or something. After a quick shower, a glass of water, and a few Advil, Ty was ready to face his day. He went to the assembly, shrugging his shoulders as he realized that they were on academic probation. So what? It was bullshit and he would just transfer. Once he had entered the court yard, Ty felt his phone buzz with a notification at the same moment everyone else's phone seemed to go off. Opening the message, he read it before realizing who it was from. Nate? Boobs? Party? It took Ty a second to put the pieces of the puzzle together. As the feeling of protective rage swelled inside of him from his head to his toes, Ty looked around the courtyard for Nate. Once he spotted the other man, Ty marched over, his phone clutched in his hand as his eyebrows nit together. Spotting the much shorter Millie, Ty gave her a polite nod. "Morning Mills." Raising his right hand to grab Nate and yank the other young man around by the shoulder to face him, Ty slammed Nate up against the snack machine, pinning his right forearm under Nate's chin. "Mind telling me what exactly you did to my sister and why you're messaging half of the goddamn school about it?" he growled.</s>
<\|description\|>Kieran David O'Connor Nicknames K.O (on the ice), Kiki (to VERY close friends) Age 21 Gender Male Year Junior year, still draft-eligible Reason of Admission Athletic Scholarship for Hockey Major Journalism, with a focus on sports / Communications Sexuality Heterosexual Relationship Status Single Label Heartthrob Jock Appearance Details * Hair: Brown \| Long \| Usually worn down, but he claims to have brought the manbun to Newfoundland, so he will wear it up in that style from time to time. * Eyes: Blue * Height: 6'3" * Body Type: Athletic build, especially in the legs thanks to a lifetime of skating. * Clothing Style: As an athlete, Kieran is expected to maintain a sense of style at the rink, so he has a couple of fine suits that he will wear on game days to look presentable. However, his preferred casual clothes consist primarily of jeans, both torn and untorn, open button-up shirts with t-shirts on underneath and a toque (wool cap) that will be worn to protect his hair from the elements. He wears a pair of dogtags in honor of his childhood friend and neighbor. * Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nothing can mark that perfect body. Not yet, anyway. Personality Traits Growing up in the rural part of Newfoundland has given Kieran an appreciation for taking things slow, but in the end it wasn't really for him. He likes the ability to do any number of things in one day, which was only possible after a long car ride back home. He likes to be out with people, doing things. He had enough hanging out alone back home. Kieran has always been an easygoing person. Growing up constantly surrounded by a team atmosphere, he is usually the calm presence among his fellow athletes. On the ice, he plays as ferociously as anyone. He earned his nickname in his freshman season with Meadow after taking down junior enforcer J.P. Smolinski of Robert Morris in his first-ever scrap. He will fight for his team tooth and nail, he's that loyal once on board. It's a trait he carries with him off the eye, usually willing to stick up for anyone he considers a friend. Upbringing Synopsis Kieran O'Connor born in Harbour Grace, Newfoundland and Labrador, and it was clear from an early age the kid was as Canadian as a Tim Horton's donut covered in maple syrup. From the second Patrick and Maryse O'Connor brought their youngest to Harbour Grace Arena for his first skate, Kieran showed he had a natural talent for gliding along the ice. As such, his parents invested all their spare cash in letting their boy pursue his dream of following Danny Cleary from the island to the NHL. He was head and shoulders above the other kids in Harbour Grace and was a stand out even in the larger St. John's league. However, that still didn't amount to much and he wasn't drafted until the 10th round of the 2016 QMJHL draft by Blainville-Boisbriand. Not content to move to Quebec, Kieran didn't report to camp and instead decided the NCAA route would be the best way to reach then pros. His grades were so good that he had multiple offers from the States, but his parents insisted on education first and Kieran made his way to the top-tier Meadow University in 2018. Kieran maintained an open-dorm policy when he got to university and it served him well, landing some solid friends and a couple eventual future roommates. He still is dreaming of that NHL contract so he can put the Rock back on the professional hockey map given the dearth of talent that has managed to stay in the big leagues. Family Father: Patrick O'Connor - 52 - Fisherman - FC: Alan Doyle Mother: Maryse O'Connor - 48 - Director, Harbour Grace Tourism Board - FC: Natasha Henstridge Oldest Sister: Caitlin O'Connor - 27 - Manager, Hertz Rent-A-Car, Toronto Bloor Street location - FC: Nicole Power Older Sister: Hannah O'Connor - 24 - Junior Crime Reporter, The St. John's Telegram - FC: Sara Canning Misc. Brock O'Hurn \| 87b5eb - So I need another rom-com? Um... Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist?</s> <\|message\|>Fiona Jade Salvador This was beyond bullshit. Who did this fucking school think they were? Fiona didn't even attend the party, yet she was still on probation. What kind of bullshittery ---- Lost for words, the dark haired girl exited the auditorium, her resting birch face becoming more and more noticable as she went. Cassian and that other dude could both suck her dick. She wasn't going to have two years of her degree thrown away because two stupid boys - boys, not men - decided to get into a fight over who knows what. If Fiona had it her way, she'd be raging at Cass right now. In the meantime, she should probably get to know the other guy in the videos name. Instead of drawing any more attention to herself, Fiona sat down at one of the tables in the courtyard. Digging around in her bag for her notebook, the young woman began to study. On the off chance she would get to stay at Meadow, she should wouldnt want to fall behind on her classes.</s> <\|message\|>Theodore Gustave Bonfamille When Theodore had gotten to the Bonfamille Manor in town, it wasn't quite yet sunrise but it was late. He didn't know if Bas or if Mads had gotten home okay but he had all the confidence in the world the two could take care of themselves. Lord knows when he sat down on the couch and laid on his side, he wasn't in any position to double-check. He woke up close to dinner time the next day and still felt like shit. His head pounded like someone took a hammer to it, or a hammer-like fist and it physically hurt him when he brought his left hand to touch one of his cuts. Thinking it couldn't get any worse than it was right now, Theo immediately was proven wrong as he reached for his phone on his nightstand and checked for any messages. There were a few but none appealed to him enough and made him open his eyes faster than he ever had done than when he saw a text message with an Instagram link. He tapped the link and it brought him to a video. "Please don't tell me.." Theo's voice trailed off into silence, hating himself immediately. "They caught the entire thing," he mused, seeing just how...aggressive he was. In the deepest part of his gut, he felt something twist as though he was disgusted with the red-haired boy he saw because that wasn't a man he saw tackling Cass. That was someone less than. Halfway through the video, which wasn't at the part where Theo got kicked in the chest, a pain that was still fresh, his phone went off. He scowled when he saw who it was. Begrudgingly, he answered. "Can you save the lecture?" Theo said, eyes closed as he laid back on his bed. "I already know why you're calling, mother. And I know why you're about to give me the third degree. Just save it." Adelaide Bonfamille didn't speak for nearly a minute. Theo knew she was considering her words. He knew her to be precise and not one to beat around the bush, not when it came to him, at least. Always the direct one. Even as much as he hates to admit it, that's one of the few things they have in common. They are often direct in how they act. For better or worse, Theodore and Adelaide possess that same fire in their souls. Finally, as he heard her cough, she said, "I hope you're proud of yourself, Theodore." "Oh, I'm just beaming with pride, mother! I sure love getting recorded and everyone seeing me lose a fight. Yeah, I couldn't be happier!" He spoke with such sarcasm that how his mother sounded, the way she breathed, he knew she rolled her eyes. "Are you done?" She asked with restraint but clearly not in the mood for his sarcasm. "Yeah, I suppose so." "Good." Adelaide cleared her throat. "This is an absolute travesty, Theodore. What on Earth possessed you to think this was a good idea?" "Honestly?" His rhetorical tone was met with silence, so he continued. "I don't know what you want me to say. Do I regret it? Well duh! This entire ordeal was recorded and I know everyone knows it was me. Hell, you even recognized me and you're hardly around to know if I still have my red hair anymore."And there it was. Direct and finally getting to his point. "What do you mean 'I'm hardly around'?" Theo went to open his mouth, thinking he was going to say it. And his voice half-cracked itself, but in the end, he betrayed himself by opting for silence instead of the truth. "Forget it. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I don't have time for this right now. Besides," Theo said, sighing, turning on his left side, settling into a comfortable position. As he yawned, he said, "I know you have that big concert in an hour. I wouldn't want to make you late for it." "Theodore, wait--" He cut her off as he hung up with her and shut off his phone. He knew she wasn't going to be particularly happy with him and he knew it would reach him eventually, but Theo didn't care. He didn't have the mental energy to spare for the likes of Madame Adelaide Bonfamille. He didn't even have it to spare for his siblings. He only wanted to sleep and sleep he did. It had been five minutes since Theo left the assembly. He didn't stick around for the aftershow. As soon as the showstopping bomb was dropped, though he wasn't exactly thrilled, the young man shrugged, caring not to focus on it right now. There was a lot on the oldest Bonfamille's mind. A lot of bad (for the most part). His part in that video that went around, how he acted against Cassian, and how ugly he might've appeared to a lot. By now, he was certain everyone knew who was in that video. Even if the Headmistress and all of those who worked for her didn't know, everyone else had to know — or maybe it was his own worst thoughts that wanted to think that. As he walked through the courtyard, deep in his thoughts, Theo was late to the party when he came to a stop at one of the many tables spread throughout the spacious courtyard. As he sat and checked his phone, he saw a group text that was still getting replies. His initial reaction was curiosity. Once he figured out the original sender was, he laughed. Theo and Nate weren't exactly close and given that some of the replies ranged from downright cruel to supportive, he couldn't imagine he was having any fun. Even still, Theodore wasn't close enough to really care about what Nate was going through, well, not enough to help the guy out. As he shifted his body halfway out, the right leg on the outside of the table and his left still in, this gave Theo a better view of who was around. He saw some familiar faces. He caught Joanna Hart and that Charlotte girl walk off west and he saw Jasper Delamar storm off somewhere as though she was ready to beat someone up. Everyone was going somewhere and then came someone Theodore knew but not really. Dark hair swayed in front of him and she probably didn't realize it, but she absent-mindedly took a seat opposite of him. If he recalled, her name started with an F or something like that. The fact she didn't acknowledge him prompted Theo to speak first. "Hey, you're Fi--" He tried to remember her name, "--Finna?" No, that didn't sound right. "Salvador, right?" At least he remembered her surname.</s>	<\|message\|>Kieran David O'Connor She's having a fucking laugh, right? She can't actually do that... Kieran was still a bit in shock after the assembly. The early wake up call didn't help matters. While hangovers didn't have much of an impact on the Newfoundlander, having to wake up before 10 am did. Even if it was 90 minutes later back home on the Rock. Still didn't matter. Certainly doesn't help to get the news that the esteemed head of the campus decided to drop. First, the fact that she actually knew about it meant there was a snitch in the ranks. Anyone who squeals is instantly ostracized for breaking the code in the locker room and Kieran adhered to those tenets in life. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, and a brother doesn't sell out a brother. Whoever went to the top sold out an entire class of students. Not cool. Second, academic probation was not something Kieran could afford right now. He managed to slide through with a 2.3 GPA last year, but he could ill-afford being dropped down even further. Coach Smolinski wasn't exactly strict with the grades, but he still cracked the whip enough to keep the heat off. Besides, how was Kieran going to attract those NHL scouts if he wasn't able to play any games? It all stunk. It stunk to high heaven. It stunk like the April catch of the day in July. But there was nothing Kieran could do about it. He wasn't a trust fund baby. He didn't have any famous fathers. He was just here to make the hockey team look good, and it wasn't even good enough for a Frozen Four invite last year. There was no way he could guarantee safety. It just made him mad. Something very difficult to do to the usually even-keeled Canadian, but it was frustrating. On the way out of the assembly, he punched a nearby drinking fountain hard enough to stick the button in the on position, to the dismay of eco-activists everywhere. His phone was buzzing. He didn't care to look at it right now. He just had to find some way to release this frustration.</s>
<\|description\|>HELIX Frame Sheet Codename: Ark Appearance: 15 meters tall. Spotted dangerously close to Russian borders by long range reconnaissance squadrons. Class: Medium Role: Unknown Equipment: Unknown. No weapons visually detected.</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY DRESSED young man felt utter relief as it seemed someone had found his spectacles, and promptly handed to him. Not thrown at him, or kicked at him. Standing to his feet, Julian dusted himself off and eagerly put them back on. The full view of Rachel came into his focus--even with her aviator glasses on, Julian could see that she was pretty. His male gaze lingered a little longer than he'd realized, causing him to stammer and turn red. "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," he replied hastily, adverting his eyes. He was about to be brave and introduce himself when someone snarked at his rescuer. 'Another time,' Julian thought, leaving Rachel to deal with Garret. As he returned to his seat, the young man overheard an intriguing voice. It was almost too soft to be heard, yet it carried Julian's eyes towards the source automatically. He noticed a man with a long braid of hair, seeming to speak to himself. Julian held onto that bravery he'd seized from his encounter with Rachel and decided to introduce himself to Henry instead. He seemed nice enough and Julian knew they would all have to work together some time soon anyway. "Hello," Julian greeted, with a slight smile. The man had said adventure? "I suppose it could be an adventure, albeit I reckon it won't be a fun one." He extended a gloved hand, "My name is Julian...uh, I mean, Julian Brumbles."</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," the man said to Rachel. She smiled back to him and nodded, "Would be bad if you were blind in your HELIX." she chuckled and poked her tongue out at him. Rachel thought his nervous response was rather endearing, though not very indicative of a military man. Then again, the advent of HELIX frames had a tack-on effect of attracting some rather unique individuals. She couldn't be too surprised. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" another passenger said rather rudely to her. Rachel looked at him, the reflective lenses of her aviators hiding her eyes as they blinked. Rachel shrugged, then nodded at the first half of his comment, "Yeah I kinda do like the sound of my voice actually. It sounds great when I'm being kind to people," she thumbs back to Julian while continuing to speak to Garret, "You'd probably like yours a lot more too if you tried being nicer to strangers, not to mention future wingmen." She then thought about the latter portion of his question, a matter of importance. Rachel nodded again, "Oh I'm definitely important, don't even need to consider that for a moment. I'm important, just like you are. And you," she upnodded to Julian, "And him over there too." She gestured to the man who appeared to be just waking from a nap. Rachel leaned against a seat with an elbow over the top of it while keeping her eyes on Garret, "HELIX pilots don't just happen, after all. We're pioneers of the next technological era, hand picked from the vast military of the United Empire to handle the most advanced machines ever made. The difference between us is that I have the confidence to verbally acknowledge my importance to the empire." Rachel span into a seat and threw a hand behind her head while another reached into a pocket to pull out a phone. She tapped away at it for some time before glancing sidelong to Garret. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." She held out a hand for a shake as she introduced herself to the man who was just a moment ago throwing shade at her.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis With a smiles Henry straightened up. He listened to the repartee between Rachel and Garret, finding it a little amusing. The obviously cocky but sure woman speaking confidently towards the quite rude young man. It's really rather amusing to see the way the moniyew treat each other. He hums looking between the others in passenger section. Finally turning to the well dressed young man. Henry quirks his head slightly to the side and nods, "Julian Brumbles ci? Well, Tansi niya Henry Makokis nisikason, Onichiskawaponi sikiaso." Henry stops himself a second and sighs, "I'm sorry, the GUFNC has a more or less mandated rule that we speak our languages as often as we can. The many languages of the First Nations people were dying out before the GUFNC came about. I try to speak as much of it as I can, forgetting that not everyone speaks Cree, or Dene'tha or any of the other hundred or so tongues of the GUFNC." He chuckles, "I'm sorry let me start again." He clears his throat, "Julian Brumbles? Well Hello there, I am Henry Makokis, that's my name. I come from Saddle Lake lands." He smiles and shrugs, then reaches out, and with a firm grip he shakes Julian's hand, "You can call me Henry though if you like, Mr. Brumbles." He let's Julian's hand go and leans back, he then calmly reaches over to where a thin length of wood, painted grey up to the last inch of the tip where it's painted a bright red. many different eagle and hawk feathers hang from it's length. He takes the stick and tucks it up under his left arm, "Can't lose this." He looks to Julian, "So while the others try to establish a pecking order, tell me about yourself Julian Brumbles, what brings you out here? You're a HELIX pilot yes? You don't look like the usual HELIX pilot I've ever seen. Well I guess I'm not either." He gestures at his own surpisingly casual outfit. A hide vest, with snake skin sewn to the breast, and fur fringe hanging from the wait hem and leather fringes at the wrist. A buckhide pants and combat boots. Ending with a canvas shirt more or less. Something very easy to put together really. He brings the stick he grabbed up and taps the red tip to his bottom lip, "But then if we're all here we're all a little unique I guess?"</s> <\|message\|>Garret Lent Garret's eyes glazed over as the walking irritant in front of him responded. And responded. In all likelihood it was not terribly long of a response, but all the same it was too long and entirely bothersome, full of the self importance that Garret suspected would drive him mad by the end of his time in Canada. It really would have been better if he could have kept himself from opening his mouth, but he'd have to deal with it now if he was still going to repay the kindness that was shown to him. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." And then her hand was in his face. Glancing up at Rachel, the world coming back into focus Garret could see that at some point in all of this the bitch had stopped to check her bloody phone. She was either incredibly incompetent at reducing heated situations or deliberately trying to piss him off. Garret chose to act as if the latter was true. "Sorry." Garret said straightening up in his seat. "Got bored during your answer." Her hand was left to hang there.</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY-DRESSED YOUNG MAN sighed with relief as Henry proved far more kind than he appeared to be, especially with that eye-catching apparel. Of course, Julian knew that he himself had no excuse; There wasn't going to be a dinner party for them, he was sure. He did find the Cree language rather beautiful to hear, it was as though he was listening to flowers or the wind speak sweet, colorful words to him that painted the corners of his imagination. He wondered how hard it would be to master a second language or even categorize hundreds of cousin tongues. Settling in for the long haul, Julian adjusted his hat and folded his hands on his large abdomen as the First Nation pilot went on and on. 'Henry Makokis, that's a lovely name,' Julian mused, nodding as Henry declared his homeland's name. "Oh, of course, Henry. You may call me Julian," he interjected gently, smiling by eyes and mouth. Julian blinked and adjusted his spectacles as Henry then retrieved some kind of (perhaps) ornamental stick and commented on its importance. He felt it prudent to perhaps ask about it later in lieu of now. Thinking of his uncle's pocket diary in his inner pocket, he supposed that they all had their own sentimental tokens to carry them through this endeavor. Then, the conversation began to focus the spotlight on Julian, prompting him to sit up straighter and clear his throat as he nodded with each sentence Henry spoke. "Ah, well yes, I suppose, Henry. Though if we're all unique, then everyone's the same, aren't they?" Julian joked, chuckling as he dismissed his own question with a wave. "But yes, I'm a Helix pilot--and mechanic too. Well kind of one, I'm not that good," he shrugged humbly. He looked past Henry then and glanced out the window wistfully "Anyway, I'm from Thorpe's Pier," Julian stated, hesitating a moment before making eye contact with Henry. "A sea sh-shanty in the, uh, Southwest. And I - ... well, to put it simply, I'm here to try to make it a great place again. Hopefully some day anyway, once I..." It was obvious that the subject made Julian nervous, but he persevered and pressed himself to finish his thought. "I just think if I get a high enough rank and prestige, I'll have the connections and knowledge I'd need to bring attention to my family and the people there. We used to proudly serve the United Empire, but now we can barely contribute anything at all." Henry might notice a flicker of fire in the young man's eyes. "But I'm going to change that," Julian stated solemnly, turning his head towards Rachel and Garret. 'But... what if I'm the one who gets changed instead?' Julian wondered, feeling at least mature enough to realize that your circumstances and company tended to change your character, whether you liked it or not.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A smile graces the First Nations man's face as he directs his attention to Julian. The well dressed young man speaking of his home, and his professions. That of a pilot and a mechanic. A trade, and a good one at that. He slowly nodded, listening and tapping the red tip of the length of wood to his bottom lip. After abit after Julian stopped talking Henry hummed softly, "Thrope's Pier. I can't say I know it. But it sounds ideal. Our home is always a vision of paradise for us. And your goal to make it and your family great again. Oh gaining rank, prestige and recognition. A fine goal. Just don't get lost in the quest for it. There are too many examples of people, men, women of many creeds and many peoples who get lost in a quest for glory. Not all of them come away from it with the greatest of rewards. Some...come away with the opposite. Rather then bathed in glory, they come out bathed in the blood of the innocent and shunned because of the evil they have done." He smiles, "But I'm sure a fine young man like yourself will be perfectly fine." He goes quiet for a time again before Henry speaks again, "As for us all being unique and thus making us all the same. There can be an argument against such an assumption. We may all have the unique traits of being HELIX pilots. But we are all our own seperate being, our personalities and up bringings and goals continue to make us unique despite being the same in the fashion that we are now compatriots." He nods sagely and whirls the painted and decorated length of wood tracing a brief spiral of red in the air. Henry hums, "I am not used to working in a large group like this Julian Brumbles. I am a Warrior, a Brave of the Grand Union of First Nations Communities. We have never had a standing army like United Empire or the Vertex. It's more along the lines of small groups of Warriors and braves protecting the borders of our ancestral lands." He smiles and taps the red tip of the piece of wood on the floor of the carrier, "This is what makes me unique. And the safety of the GUFNC, is what I strive for. My quest, much like yours." He points the length of wood, red tip first at Julian, "I'll count the coup, until my last day, for the safety of my peoples. My cousins."</s>	<\|message\|>HELIX Frame Sheet The pilot over in the front smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "We're rounding up on the base, it ain't the prettiest but she works well. I'm going to have to put 'er down on a landing pad a little far away from the main complex, the others are too slippery for this bird with this accursed storm. Go look outside a window or something, main complex is in the middle." The dropship cruises over a hill, revealing the base and all its sprawling components, SAM sites watching the skies for any intruder that dares come close. The base covered layered in white by the snow, a rather uninviting feel within the white hell of Alaska. It used to be calmer before the war broke out, but it's a dangerous bet living here regardless. The dropship circles around the base, switching to VTOL and slowly coming down, gear extending to kiss the ground softly, suspension compressing as the engines power down. The pilot looks back, eyeing the HELIX pilots one by one. "Not much time for sightseeing, aight? Cold and windy out here, best to get inside sooner rather than later." On the ground a dry red word can be seen inscribed upon the wall of the main complex, 'Snowbirds'. With a sharp eye, the motto 'United we hunt. Divided we strike.' is seen below the name. A somewhat cheesy motto for sure, but it serves the purpose quite well. Next to it, a contrasting black door is spotted, well that shows their way in. The other complexes close by seem to be warehouses and a communication station, housing the primary ways to reach out for assistance and reports. A large radar system stands upon another building, smaller ones dotted around the entire area. Armed to the teeth, and with the HELIX hangar being seen not too obviously connected to the main base, this place is surprisingly well hidden yet the feeling of fear could certainly be felt. This place is their home now, their new boss having certainly been here a while. Not to get too distracted, however, the pilot moves a hand to a switch on the side. "Opening her up now, get moving before y'all get bit by the cold." The switch is flipped, the rear door opening up, flipping downwards to form a ramp. Now it's their turn to move, their pilot having brought them all this way.</s>
<\|description\|>Henry Makokis Pilot Appearance: Henry is an interesting sort. Niether tall and muscular, nor short and stocky. He is a decent 6 feet tall, with a whip like build, quick both physically and mentally. His skin is a leathery red of a person who is used to spending long hours out in the strong sun. Once upon a time his hair was a dark and long black, but now it's a salt and pepper black and grey. What doesn't look like he's been weathered, is his piercing dark eyes. Eyes that seem to stare into a person's soul. A First Nations man of Canada of distinguished appearance. His hair is always cut back into what is called "The Warrior's Braid" a long hefty braid of hair that travels down his back almost to his waist. Personality: Henry is a approachable man. Kind, thoughtful, welcoming. He will be just as likely to crack a obscure joke as he is to start intoning some strange old take of the Cree Peoples. He's an intelligent man, holding Doctorates in Biosciences, Mathematics and Astrophysics. Making him quite educated and erudite. But he'd sooner debate the Edmonton Oilers and the Calgary Flames then whether or no Betelguese is about to go super nova. Backstory: The Great Union of First Nations Communities, a political and social conglomeration of all the American Indian and Canadian First Nations reserves and communities across the North American Continent. A united group for all First Nations people to live peacefully and in prosperity, as well as to have all the comforts and legal means that anyone ele may have. This came about after a long hard fight in political and social arena's around the north american continent and around the world even. Culminating in a massive showing and address with the UN several decades ago. It was a long and hard fought battle. But soon all the myraid number of reserves were recognized as a nation onto themselves. And this Crees and Creeks. Mohawk and Pawnee. Cherokee and Blackfoot. All alike were given the rights and all things they needed to join the rest of the peoples of the world in prosperity. To make sure they could keep this way, as time went on, the GUFNC employed their own defense forces. Helix Frames and small militia groups who patrolled their lands to keep it safe from people who would come in and misuse it. This is where Henry came in. From a young age, he always felt he's something more. Something a little more useful to the Union. A defender. What would be called a Brave among some of the nations. This is what Henry endeavoured to be for the GUFNC. It took a long time, what with his education he wanted to get. He was a slightly older 42 by the time he got his first HELIX Frame. But then when he did get it he declared he'd act as the defender of the rights of all the GUFNC no matter what happened. He spent many years defending the lands of the Saddle Lake, Kehewin and Smokey Lake communities before he was tasked with joining the Snowbirds, a representative from the GUFNC was needed and he was chosen by the Council of Elders and Matriarch. He packed up his belongings, and shipped his HELIX up to the location, arrive just a few mere hours behind it. He boarded up his HELIX and made his way to the Snowbird Base. Instead of defending the lands of his people. He's defending the vast north int he name of everyone. Misc Info: An adherent to the old customs, and spiritual beliefs of the First Nations peoples, he carries a coup stick with him everywhere he goes just in case. One of the first things he did when he arrived on base was to plant a War Post on the grounds of the base and bury the blade of a hatchet into it. Honoring his Mohawk cousin's ways in that moment. And he also offered a braid of sweet grass and a packet of tobacco to a local GUFNC community elder for their blessing. *Despite getting on in years, he's still quite spry. -------------------- HELIX Codename: The Brave Appearance: The Brave is a fast thin Frame model. One of the first Frames that was developed, built and produced exclusively by the GUFNC factories. It's black silver, blue and red frame is well armored for something with it's cross section. And sports the GUFNC mohawk crest on it's head section, made from silvered cabling welded onto the top and back of the head. The hands are extremely agile for a Helix frame of it's shape and size. Class: Medium, 14.5 meters tall Role: CQC, Mid range saturation, Mid range energy based Equipment: Head: The Tri-eye sensor array - Three blue eyes with omni directional sensors that pick up input in Visual, Radar and Infra-red Shoulders: Left - Five-barrel Heavy Gattling laser Cannon Right - Hi-Focus Heavy Plasma Lance (A energy weapon that super heats 3 foot long tungsten bolts then launches them in a tight blast) Back: Ordnance Interdiction system - A 20 round HELIX Frame sized trophy system that can track and pick off missiles, or rockets. Limited ammo, limited usage. Waist: Booster Jets for faster lateral and forward motion. Right Arm: Underslung Defuse-focus High Energy Laser cannon - Fast firing, low damage energy weapon Left and Right hands: The Coup System - Right Hand houses a Large Heated edge Helix Frame sized tomahawk. The Left Hand houses a combat knife, fitted to Helix proportions. Made from Titanium and Osmium composites. Long enough to pierce through the armor of a Frames core with a good amount of power behind it. Legs and feet: High output thrusters and jets designed to give The Brave high enough speed to cover distances quickly to close the distance with an enemy Frame and utilize it's Tomahawk and Knife to good effect. Or to put distance to use it's longer range weaponry.</s> <\|message\|>Garret Lent Sitting cross armed and cross legged, removed from the world around him, Garret sat in a trance considering Helix frames and the futility of geopolitics. The information from the pilot was not much of a concern. He did not seem like anyone with that much authority and in all honesty Garret could probably get by through tacitly following the bulk of his team to be when they touched down or perhaps just following the instructions of someone else repeating them on the ground. Admittedly neither was really a guarantee. What did threaten to break his trance was the know it all harassing the pilot. Even if Garret did not actually respect the man it was not really an excuse to go out of your way to get in his. Then the man in front of him started to flail around for his missing glasses. Though perhaps it was better to describe him as an overly dressed child. Garret did not move save for his eyes which darted around to try and find the kid's glasses if for no other reason than for a marginal decrease in the noise. He did not find them, but the woman from the front of the dropship had come back to do just that. "Shouldn't happen again from here on out. We're in the pipe, five by five" she said handing them back. Something about that phrase broke Garret. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" he said without thinking. He regretted it immediately. So long peace and quiet.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A troop carrier. With many a body in it. Pilots. All of them in one way or another. It's no secret. They'd all been called out of their former postings. One of the people sounded like a Airforce personality. He couldn't really tell. Another sounded a little innocent of all the things needed to be a full on warrior for the protection of those you care for. And then a third, a little miffed at something by the sound of it. He couldn't actually see the people. Because Henry Makokis, HELIX Pilot for the Great Union of First Nations Communities is purposefully keeping his eyes closed through out the ride. Pretending to sleep. Main point being pretending. He'd found isn't a good way to get a sense of new people. Because they say and do things differently if a person thinks you're awake and aware. Versus asleep and unaware. It tells you things. Yes indeed. Makes sense really, it's all a very moniyew thing to do. He gives off a very convincing sniff as he pretends to wake. The tall, lanky, and thin but whip cord like muscled Canadian First Nations man waking from a very long nap. One he'd been taking since they left the base some time ago. Henry looks about the interior. Connecting voices to faces and bodies now. His eyes taking in details quickly. These people are to be his squad mates. After so long working alone or with maybe one other Warrior of the GUFNC, it'll be quite an interesting thing to work with them all. And makes him wonder how well his HELIX, The Brave, will work with these pilots and their machines. Only time will tell. With a yawn, again rather convincing, he looks ahead, "Almost to our new home." He says in a rich yet soft voice. He smiles and nods, "What does the future hold I wonder. What adventures." He reaches back over his shoulder and smooths the long braid of his hair down a little, then turns to look out the small window closest him, "So much white. Doesn't look so bad."</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY DRESSED young man felt utter relief as it seemed someone had found his spectacles, and promptly handed to him. Not thrown at him, or kicked at him. Standing to his feet, Julian dusted himself off and eagerly put them back on. The full view of Rachel came into his focus--even with her aviator glasses on, Julian could see that she was pretty. His male gaze lingered a little longer than he'd realized, causing him to stammer and turn red. "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," he replied hastily, adverting his eyes. He was about to be brave and introduce himself when someone snarked at his rescuer. 'Another time,' Julian thought, leaving Rachel to deal with Garret. As he returned to his seat, the young man overheard an intriguing voice. It was almost too soft to be heard, yet it carried Julian's eyes towards the source automatically. He noticed a man with a long braid of hair, seeming to speak to himself. Julian held onto that bravery he'd seized from his encounter with Rachel and decided to introduce himself to Henry instead. He seemed nice enough and Julian knew they would all have to work together some time soon anyway. "Hello," Julian greeted, with a slight smile. The man had said adventure? "I suppose it could be an adventure, albeit I reckon it won't be a fun one." He extended a gloved hand, "My name is Julian...uh, I mean, Julian Brumbles."</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," the man said to Rachel. She smiled back to him and nodded, "Would be bad if you were blind in your HELIX." she chuckled and poked her tongue out at him. Rachel thought his nervous response was rather endearing, though not very indicative of a military man. Then again, the advent of HELIX frames had a tack-on effect of attracting some rather unique individuals. She couldn't be too surprised. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" another passenger said rather rudely to her. Rachel looked at him, the reflective lenses of her aviators hiding her eyes as they blinked. Rachel shrugged, then nodded at the first half of his comment, "Yeah I kinda do like the sound of my voice actually. It sounds great when I'm being kind to people," she thumbs back to Julian while continuing to speak to Garret, "You'd probably like yours a lot more too if you tried being nicer to strangers, not to mention future wingmen." She then thought about the latter portion of his question, a matter of importance. Rachel nodded again, "Oh I'm definitely important, don't even need to consider that for a moment. I'm important, just like you are. And you," she upnodded to Julian, "And him over there too." She gestured to the man who appeared to be just waking from a nap. Rachel leaned against a seat with an elbow over the top of it while keeping her eyes on Garret, "HELIX pilots don't just happen, after all. We're pioneers of the next technological era, hand picked from the vast military of the United Empire to handle the most advanced machines ever made. The difference between us is that I have the confidence to verbally acknowledge my importance to the empire." Rachel span into a seat and threw a hand behind her head while another reached into a pocket to pull out a phone. She tapped away at it for some time before glancing sidelong to Garret. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." She held out a hand for a shake as she introduced herself to the man who was just a moment ago throwing shade at her.</s>	<\|message\|>Henry Makokis With a smiles Henry straightened up. He listened to the repartee between Rachel and Garret, finding it a little amusing. The obviously cocky but sure woman speaking confidently towards the quite rude young man. It's really rather amusing to see the way the moniyew treat each other. He hums looking between the others in passenger section. Finally turning to the well dressed young man. Henry quirks his head slightly to the side and nods, "Julian Brumbles ci? Well, Tansi niya Henry Makokis nisikason, Onichiskawaponi sikiaso." Henry stops himself a second and sighs, "I'm sorry, the GUFNC has a more or less mandated rule that we speak our languages as often as we can. The many languages of the First Nations people were dying out before the GUFNC came about. I try to speak as much of it as I can, forgetting that not everyone speaks Cree, or Dene'tha or any of the other hundred or so tongues of the GUFNC." He chuckles, "I'm sorry let me start again." He clears his throat, "Julian Brumbles? Well Hello there, I am Henry Makokis, that's my name. I come from Saddle Lake lands." He smiles and shrugs, then reaches out, and with a firm grip he shakes Julian's hand, "You can call me Henry though if you like, Mr. Brumbles." He let's Julian's hand go and leans back, he then calmly reaches over to where a thin length of wood, painted grey up to the last inch of the tip where it's painted a bright red. many different eagle and hawk feathers hang from it's length. He takes the stick and tucks it up under his left arm, "Can't lose this." He looks to Julian, "So while the others try to establish a pecking order, tell me about yourself Julian Brumbles, what brings you out here? You're a HELIX pilot yes? You don't look like the usual HELIX pilot I've ever seen. Well I guess I'm not either." He gestures at his own surpisingly casual outfit. A hide vest, with snake skin sewn to the breast, and fur fringe hanging from the wait hem and leather fringes at the wrist. A buckhide pants and combat boots. Ending with a canvas shirt more or less. Something very easy to put together really. He brings the stick he grabbed up and taps the red tip to his bottom lip, "But then if we're all here we're all a little unique I guess?"</s>
<\|description\|>Henry Makokis Pilot Appearance: Henry is an interesting sort. Niether tall and muscular, nor short and stocky. He is a decent 6 feet tall, with a whip like build, quick both physically and mentally. His skin is a leathery red of a person who is used to spending long hours out in the strong sun. Once upon a time his hair was a dark and long black, but now it's a salt and pepper black and grey. What doesn't look like he's been weathered, is his piercing dark eyes. Eyes that seem to stare into a person's soul. A First Nations man of Canada of distinguished appearance. His hair is always cut back into what is called "The Warrior's Braid" a long hefty braid of hair that travels down his back almost to his waist. Personality: Henry is a approachable man. Kind, thoughtful, welcoming. He will be just as likely to crack a obscure joke as he is to start intoning some strange old take of the Cree Peoples. He's an intelligent man, holding Doctorates in Biosciences, Mathematics and Astrophysics. Making him quite educated and erudite. But he'd sooner debate the Edmonton Oilers and the Calgary Flames then whether or no Betelguese is about to go super nova. Backstory: The Great Union of First Nations Communities, a political and social conglomeration of all the American Indian and Canadian First Nations reserves and communities across the North American Continent. A united group for all First Nations people to live peacefully and in prosperity, as well as to have all the comforts and legal means that anyone ele may have. This came about after a long hard fight in political and social arena's around the north american continent and around the world even. Culminating in a massive showing and address with the UN several decades ago. It was a long and hard fought battle. But soon all the myraid number of reserves were recognized as a nation onto themselves. And this Crees and Creeks. Mohawk and Pawnee. Cherokee and Blackfoot. All alike were given the rights and all things they needed to join the rest of the peoples of the world in prosperity. To make sure they could keep this way, as time went on, the GUFNC employed their own defense forces. Helix Frames and small militia groups who patrolled their lands to keep it safe from people who would come in and misuse it. This is where Henry came in. From a young age, he always felt he's something more. Something a little more useful to the Union. A defender. What would be called a Brave among some of the nations. This is what Henry endeavoured to be for the GUFNC. It took a long time, what with his education he wanted to get. He was a slightly older 42 by the time he got his first HELIX Frame. But then when he did get it he declared he'd act as the defender of the rights of all the GUFNC no matter what happened. He spent many years defending the lands of the Saddle Lake, Kehewin and Smokey Lake communities before he was tasked with joining the Snowbirds, a representative from the GUFNC was needed and he was chosen by the Council of Elders and Matriarch. He packed up his belongings, and shipped his HELIX up to the location, arrive just a few mere hours behind it. He boarded up his HELIX and made his way to the Snowbird Base. Instead of defending the lands of his people. He's defending the vast north int he name of everyone. Misc Info: An adherent to the old customs, and spiritual beliefs of the First Nations peoples, he carries a coup stick with him everywhere he goes just in case. One of the first things he did when he arrived on base was to plant a War Post on the grounds of the base and bury the blade of a hatchet into it. Honoring his Mohawk cousin's ways in that moment. And he also offered a braid of sweet grass and a packet of tobacco to a local GUFNC community elder for their blessing. *Despite getting on in years, he's still quite spry. -------------------- HELIX Codename: The Brave Appearance: The Brave is a fast thin Frame model. One of the first Frames that was developed, built and produced exclusively by the GUFNC factories. It's black silver, blue and red frame is well armored for something with it's cross section. And sports the GUFNC mohawk crest on it's head section, made from silvered cabling welded onto the top and back of the head. The hands are extremely agile for a Helix frame of it's shape and size. Class: Medium, 14.5 meters tall Role: CQC, Mid range saturation, Mid range energy based Equipment: Head: The Tri-eye sensor array - Three blue eyes with omni directional sensors that pick up input in Visual, Radar and Infra-red Shoulders: Left - Five-barrel Heavy Gattling laser Cannon Right - Hi-Focus Heavy Plasma Lance (A energy weapon that super heats 3 foot long tungsten bolts then launches them in a tight blast) Back: Ordnance Interdiction system - A 20 round HELIX Frame sized trophy system that can track and pick off missiles, or rockets. Limited ammo, limited usage. Waist: Booster Jets for faster lateral and forward motion. Right Arm: Underslung Defuse-focus High Energy Laser cannon - Fast firing, low damage energy weapon Left and Right hands: The Coup System - Right Hand houses a Large Heated edge Helix Frame sized tomahawk. The Left Hand houses a combat knife, fitted to Helix proportions. Made from Titanium and Osmium composites. Long enough to pierce through the armor of a Frames core with a good amount of power behind it. Legs and feet: High output thrusters and jets designed to give The Brave high enough speed to cover distances quickly to close the distance with an enemy Frame and utilize it's Tomahawk and Knife to good effect. Or to put distance to use it's longer range weaponry.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A smile graces the First Nations man's face as he directs his attention to Julian. The well dressed young man speaking of his home, and his professions. That of a pilot and a mechanic. A trade, and a good one at that. He slowly nodded, listening and tapping the red tip of the length of wood to his bottom lip. After abit after Julian stopped talking Henry hummed softly, "Thrope's Pier. I can't say I know it. But it sounds ideal. Our home is always a vision of paradise for us. And your goal to make it and your family great again. Oh gaining rank, prestige and recognition. A fine goal. Just don't get lost in the quest for it. There are too many examples of people, men, women of many creeds and many peoples who get lost in a quest for glory. Not all of them come away from it with the greatest of rewards. Some...come away with the opposite. Rather then bathed in glory, they come out bathed in the blood of the innocent and shunned because of the evil they have done." He smiles, "But I'm sure a fine young man like yourself will be perfectly fine." He goes quiet for a time again before Henry speaks again, "As for us all being unique and thus making us all the same. There can be an argument against such an assumption. We may all have the unique traits of being HELIX pilots. But we are all our own seperate being, our personalities and up bringings and goals continue to make us unique despite being the same in the fashion that we are now compatriots." He nods sagely and whirls the painted and decorated length of wood tracing a brief spiral of red in the air. Henry hums, "I am not used to working in a large group like this Julian Brumbles. I am a Warrior, a Brave of the Grand Union of First Nations Communities. We have never had a standing army like United Empire or the Vertex. It's more along the lines of small groups of Warriors and braves protecting the borders of our ancestral lands." He smiles and taps the red tip of the piece of wood on the floor of the carrier, "This is what makes me unique. And the safety of the GUFNC, is what I strive for. My quest, much like yours." He points the length of wood, red tip first at Julian, "I'll count the coup, until my last day, for the safety of my peoples. My cousins."</s> <\|message\|>HELIX Frame Sheet The pilot over in the front smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "We're rounding up on the base, it ain't the prettiest but she works well. I'm going to have to put 'er down on a landing pad a little far away from the main complex, the others are too slippery for this bird with this accursed storm. Go look outside a window or something, main complex is in the middle." The dropship cruises over a hill, revealing the base and all its sprawling components, SAM sites watching the skies for any intruder that dares come close. The base covered layered in white by the snow, a rather uninviting feel within the white hell of Alaska. It used to be calmer before the war broke out, but it's a dangerous bet living here regardless. The dropship circles around the base, switching to VTOL and slowly coming down, gear extending to kiss the ground softly, suspension compressing as the engines power down. The pilot looks back, eyeing the HELIX pilots one by one. "Not much time for sightseeing, aight? Cold and windy out here, best to get inside sooner rather than later." On the ground a dry red word can be seen inscribed upon the wall of the main complex, 'Snowbirds'. With a sharp eye, the motto 'United we hunt. Divided we strike.' is seen below the name. A somewhat cheesy motto for sure, but it serves the purpose quite well. Next to it, a contrasting black door is spotted, well that shows their way in. The other complexes close by seem to be warehouses and a communication station, housing the primary ways to reach out for assistance and reports. A large radar system stands upon another building, smaller ones dotted around the entire area. Armed to the teeth, and with the HELIX hangar being seen not too obviously connected to the main base, this place is surprisingly well hidden yet the feeling of fear could certainly be felt. This place is their home now, their new boss having certainly been here a while. Not to get too distracted, however, the pilot moves a hand to a switch on the side. "Opening her up now, get moving before y'all get bit by the cold." The switch is flipped, the rear door opening up, flipping downwards to form a ramp. Now it's their turn to move, their pilot having brought them all this way.</s>	<\|message\|>Henry Makokis Henry gave another smile at Julian then looked forward as the pilot broadcast to them. He hums and peers out the porthole next to him. He peers out seeing the white of the Alaskan tundra. And down as they flew lower, he could see the outlines of large grey buildings. What looked like a Radar dish and accompanying instruments for it. Warehouses and communications installations. He nodded slowly and as they started to settle in he could see the HELIX frame hanger attached to the main command building. likely their first destination. Though he had other things he needed to do first. As they settled in he grabbed a heavy and thick jacket, made from hide by the look of it. With white wolf pelt around the neck. He also grabbed a kit bag that sat under his seat, and then as they crunched to the ground he stood, and pulled a large 3 meter long quarter of a foot wide pole of wood out of the overhead netting. And with it over his left shoulder and over his right his bag he turned to the way out. "I'll see you all at the command center. I have something I need to do." He gave a wink then trooped out of the lander. His combat boots crunched in the snow as he made path towards the command building, but slightly to one side. To an open area that didn't seem to be used for much more then some old crates that hadn't been shipped out yet. A good place as any. Still took him a little to get there. He looked over his shoulder only once, to check if the others are moving yet. It really didn't matter in the end. They'd get there just like he would. Finally he reached the spot, there he kneeled in the snow and from his kit bag, he brought a broad bladed tomahawk. A length of solid birth wood made the handle, gleaming silvered steel made the head which had various sigils and runes etched into it, ontop of the damascus steel foldings in the blade. At the very end of the handle a length of what looked like bone. Hefty and thick, the handle wrapped with yellow, white, blue and red silk lengths and finally tied to the handle just below the steel head is a quartete of eagle feathers, two of them golden eagle the other two bald eagle. It's a masterwork of some GUFNC craftsman truly. With the hatchet Henry chops one end of the pole down to a point, it's rough and isnt't fancy but it works. He gets to his feet and with a cry of strength he buries the pole 2 feet down and even into the concrete below. He nods sagely and draws a circle around the pole in the snow with the handle of the tomahawk. It's fast then as he swings the tomahawk up, and buries the blade of the hand axe to the handle in the wood of the pole. A resounding war whoop rings out as Henry tilts his head back and whoops to the air. Once...then...another war whoop. Twice...and then finally a third war whoop pierces the air. The sound of the cries echoing off the walls nearby. He relaxes his body, and picks his kit bag back up, "The first step." Said mostly to himself but loud enough for anyone who was curious enough to follow along. Slinging his kit bag up over his shoulders again he makes for the command building again, calling out to anyone to hear, "Anyone who moves that pole or takes that tomahawk! I'll personally tan your hide! Respect the rituals!" He makes his way then to the nearest doors into the command building, figuring he may as well join the rest of the team inside. The Sound of youtube.com/watch?v=sv29DzgiXZA / youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc and youtube.com/watch?v=-ML74J9Dq2U</s>
<\|description\|>Alistar "Annul" Gray Pilot Sheet Appearance: Personality: Alistar leans towards being carefree, though does not waste a second to assert who's in charge. Despite his rather lackluster physical traits, he's a quick and decisive mind. With sharp reflexes and a solid steady body, he shows precision that reminds most of a machine, a destroyer, hence his nickname "Annul". His mere gaze is described as piercing, though there is than meets the eye. Sometimes he'll put himself in a position to save someone he likes, despite his cold behavior. At times he can be rather foul-mouthed, his eternal sly smirk shifting to that of a distasteful frown. Backstory: Born in southern Canada, near Mississauga, he lived the majority of his childhood near a United Empire base, watching the machines move around with fascination. He spent his life in schools as an unknown, not showing much care to anything other than history. Whenever HELIX Frames were brought up, his eyes glimmered with life and hope. As soon as he turned 18, he went into the military and underwent the surgical procedure for the implant needed to even use a Frame. Whilst recovering from the surgery, a rebel group attacked the base, seeking to break the United Empire, many of his fellow soldiers were slaughtered in the coming onslaught, before they could even get their own Frames up and running. In a fury of vengeance, he left the infirmary and ran to the HELIX Frame hangar, climbing in one and taking control of it. With his newfound weapon and mental strain from using one far too soon, he found himself weakened, but nonetheless he pressed on. With his plasma sword, he seeked slaughter, slaughter to the enemy. He approached a battered and damaged Frame from behind, then cut him down with one swift slice. Taking it's gun, he raised the barrel and fired upon another rebel, ripping it's shields apart from the sheer lane of fire. The machine swung around and dashed to him, slamming a mighty fist into the machine's torso, knocking him back and sending him skidding across the concrete floor. He brought up his gun and fired right into the Frame's torso, killing the pilot before he could slam right through the head of the machine. With another enemy on approach he ran behind cover, sending a kick right through the metal walls and into it's head before it fired. It then launched swarm missiles at Alistar, damaging his machine and plasma sword. He launched himself at the enemy, slamming heads together and a punch to the shoulder. With a returning punch from the enemy, he stumbled back, but kicked the enemy down, falling on it and replacing the machine's head with his fist. He won, if barely, but at what cost for him and the base? Misc Info: He's 30, but looks to be in 20 due to anti-aging treatments. He prefers dark colors to bright ones, as they allow him to calm down. --- HELIX Frame Sheet Codename: EYE2 Appearance: 10 meters tall Class: Medium Role: General purpose brawler. Equipment: Plasma Lances (x2) - Arm - These plasma lances are used against machines close up or to quickly strip down Phalanx Shields, they can also be charged up to fire a beam of plasma a short distance, capable of piercing through a Frame at maximum charge. They cannot be used while holding weapons, otherwise it'll cut right through them. Smoke Capsules (x6) - Torso - These smoke capsules are used to hide itself from machines up close, they allow EYE2 to have enough time to move into an advantageous position. Anti Missile Laser (x2) - Shoulder - The AML allows EYE2 to destroy incoming missiles with pinpoint accuracy. Interestingly, they also kill infantry instantly, and can hit them. When fired for too long they must vent their heat, and inadvertently affects the sensor arrays on EYE2. MOTORVIPER - Hand - The MOTORVIPER is a general purpose assault rifle, capable of being used by any similarly sized HF with normal hands. It has enough ammo to tough through standard operations thanks to extra mags being kept hidden on the hips of EYE2. Due to not being a specialized weapon, it is special in no way, though EYE2 hits further and more accurately than predicted specifications. NIGHTLING - Hand - The NIGHTLING is a heavy shotgun produced specifically for EYE2, it has a heavy round load capable of shredding through lighter Frames up close, however due to the recoil, it cannot be fired in quick succession. The NIGHTLING has a somewhat long reload time, as it must be fed rounds by an autoloader contained in EYE2's left hip. Vanguard - Torso - The Vanguard system is used to enhance dashes in all directions except vertically, this allows EYE2 to suddenly speed up and change direction, however use of it wastes Phalanx Shields. Hugin - Head - Hugin is used to analyze any close structure or HELIX Frame, analyzing what it may contain and structural weaknesses, usage of Hugin temporarily disables other sensor packages. Munin - Torso - Using information gathered from Hugin, Munin works in tandem with the main processor to figure out if new Frames spotted match previously recorded information, showing Alistar predicted armaments. This is incredibly useful as he knows what to expect. Modified weapon systems will sometimes not show up properly for Munin's analysis.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis Henry gave another smile at Julian then looked forward as the pilot broadcast to them. He hums and peers out the porthole next to him. He peers out seeing the white of the Alaskan tundra. And down as they flew lower, he could see the outlines of large grey buildings. What looked like a Radar dish and accompanying instruments for it. Warehouses and communications installations. He nodded slowly and as they started to settle in he could see the HELIX frame hanger attached to the main command building. likely their first destination. Though he had other things he needed to do first. As they settled in he grabbed a heavy and thick jacket, made from hide by the look of it. With white wolf pelt around the neck. He also grabbed a kit bag that sat under his seat, and then as they crunched to the ground he stood, and pulled a large 3 meter long quarter of a foot wide pole of wood out of the overhead netting. And with it over his left shoulder and over his right his bag he turned to the way out. "I'll see you all at the command center. I have something I need to do." He gave a wink then trooped out of the lander. His combat boots crunched in the snow as he made path towards the command building, but slightly to one side. To an open area that didn't seem to be used for much more then some old crates that hadn't been shipped out yet. A good place as any. Still took him a little to get there. He looked over his shoulder only once, to check if the others are moving yet. It really didn't matter in the end. They'd get there just like he would. Finally he reached the spot, there he kneeled in the snow and from his kit bag, he brought a broad bladed tomahawk. A length of solid birth wood made the handle, gleaming silvered steel made the head which had various sigils and runes etched into it, ontop of the damascus steel foldings in the blade. At the very end of the handle a length of what looked like bone. Hefty and thick, the handle wrapped with yellow, white, blue and red silk lengths and finally tied to the handle just below the steel head is a quartete of eagle feathers, two of them golden eagle the other two bald eagle. It's a masterwork of some GUFNC craftsman truly. With the hatchet Henry chops one end of the pole down to a point, it's rough and isnt't fancy but it works. He gets to his feet and with a cry of strength he buries the pole 2 feet down and even into the concrete below. He nods sagely and draws a circle around the pole in the snow with the handle of the tomahawk. It's fast then as he swings the tomahawk up, and buries the blade of the hand axe to the handle in the wood of the pole. A resounding war whoop rings out as Henry tilts his head back and whoops to the air. Once...then...another war whoop. Twice...and then finally a third war whoop pierces the air. The sound of the cries echoing off the walls nearby. He relaxes his body, and picks his kit bag back up, "The first step." Said mostly to himself but loud enough for anyone who was curious enough to follow along. Slinging his kit bag up over his shoulders again he makes for the command building again, calling out to anyone to hear, "Anyone who moves that pole or takes that tomahawk! I'll personally tan your hide! Respect the rituals!" He makes his way then to the nearest doors into the command building, figuring he may as well join the rest of the team inside. The Sound of youtube.com/watch?v=sv29DzgiXZA / youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc and youtube.com/watch?v=-ML74J9Dq2U</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw Rachel raised a brow at Garret when she heard his response. Now that wasn't a nice thing to say. She had only been giving some playful sass and instead received a verbal middle finger. Rachel shrugged and watched out of the window as the dropship approached the base. It all felt so similar to her, like she had just stepped off into a colder version of the base her previous squadron called home. When the craft touched down, Rachel stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. She moved toward the back as the ramp began to open. "Thanks for the lift. Here's hoping for clear skies." Rachel said to the pilot, offering a fist bump to him as she passed. The pilot bumped his fist to hers, their brief rivalry ending with a sort of kinship between pilots. Rachel stepped down the ramp and felt the cold wind whip at her face. The collar of her bomber coat flipped up in the wind, thankfully masking her jawline and some of her cheek to the chill. She was glad that she was wearing her sunglasses, as the clear skies allowed for the sunlight to reach the snow and bounce off unmolested. Everything was just... bright. Even with her sunglasses, Rachel found herself squinting somewhat. She was used to the perpetual cloudiness of Great Britain. Rachel didn't move much further from the dropship though. She turned and waited for the other HELIX pilots to dismount and join her. If they were to be a unit, it was best for them to get into the habit of sticking together now, even if one of them was quickly becoming unlikable to Rachel. "Let's get a move on, pilots! I don't want this cold creeping any further up my spine."</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles IT WAS TIME. As Henry and Julian ceased their conversing and prepared to brace the bitter cold--both of nature and their future missions--the latter held back his breath, trying to drown an anxious sigh. Julian returned to his seat, thinking about the pilot's words. He retrieved a large black overcoat that he'd taken off during their flight; It kept him warm, perhaps too warm, but now it was the only comfort item that would steady his nerves. Julian worried incessantly, a variety of dark thoughts plaguing his mind. Rachel's call to her comrades cause him to snap back from the brink. It anchored him, and he silently thanked her for it. As the transport door opened, Julian growled under his breath and held his bowler hat tightly with his right hand, his carry-on in his left hand. He marched straight into the whiteness, keeping pace with Rachel and Henry--he wasn't about to be left behind. Like Rachel, he also felt that they should stick together, for better or for worse. This entire ordeal felt strangely like the starting events of a wedding ceremony, not that Julian had any idea of what a wedding was like, nor the after-effect of marriage. Regardless, he was determined to care about his comrades even if he had to embrace his deepest fears a thousand times over. 'At least Henry and Rachel seem to care,' Julian mused, eyeing the motto in the distance. He could barely read it, but as he squinted in vain to clutch at clarity, he noticed that Henry began breaking off from the group. Glancing between Rachel and the others and the brave (he was truly brave, Julian felt), he decided to stay on track with the group. His pace did start to slow though, and he licked his lips as he watched Henry do whatever it was that he was doing. He really couldn't make out the thing in the ground, but the war whooping outright startled Julian. He even chuckled a little in spite of his fear, trying to feign confidence. As Henry returned, his words of warning presented a logical conundrum to Julian. But he dismissed it just as quickly as he had thought of it--in short, that the wind and snow would bury the ritual marker and render it effectively lost to them. He then changed his mind and would ask him anyway. Deciding to trust Henry would not look at him stupidly, Julian asked, "Well, uh, Henry, what about the wind? A-And the snow? Won't it bury the--oh." Julian could see more clearly now, the marker was taller than it had appeared at first to him. Chuckling and muttering 'never mind', he emphasized his dismissal of his question with a hand wave and head shake. Turning back towards the group and joining them, Julian chided himself. 'Stupid!'</s>	<\|message\|>Alistar "Annul" Gray When they reach the door it automatically slides open, revealing an airlock. After everyone enters the door slams shut behind them, the interior door opening with a soft welcome from the PA system, "New pilots have arrived. Please report immediately to the mess hall." The inside of the base is surprisingly homely, with proper flooring and decorations. Seems these guys can afford to spend a bit on luxury, a welcome change in the military. The walls are white, for the most part, gray at the bottom. This base is certainly odd, but nonetheless it's time to move. When they enter the cafeteria there's one person clad in a dark blue suit, with pink hair and emerald green eyes. He rests with a relaxed yet firm posture, like he's the boss and he knows it. He looks nothing special, not muscular or visibly strong, yet his hand moves with an almost assassin-like grace, lifting his fork and taking a bite from his mac and cheese. After swallowing he looks over at the new pilots, speaking before they even have a chance to say something. "So you're the people I've been waiting for! Welcome to the snowbirds, grab something to eat and come over here, you've been ferried around quite a bit I can assume, best to eat a proper meal before talking. Hunger makes you angry after all!"</s>
<\|description\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Age: 32 Gender: Female Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 80kg Former Regiment: Mordian Iron Guard Speciality: Company Captain Appearance: Arlena could, if you looked past much of her steelier exterior, be called 'beautiful.' To do so, one would need to take in her rich black hair, hazelnut eyes and tanned olive skin, whilst at the same time looking past a back rigid from perpetually standing to attention, the long scar trailing from between her eyebrows to down below her jawline, her nose showing signs of being stitched back together and, the rare times it is visible, the pockmarked scar tissue along her right hand side visible without her shirt on. Besides the more immediate aspects of her appearance there is also the fact that despite being of no small rank she has clearly spent a not-insignificant amount of time toning her physique. Her figure is muscled and fairly bulky, and when she rolls up her sleeves to assist with moving or carrying something it definitely shows. Uniform: Golden epaulettes, commissar-like cap, rich blue overcoat and fine trousers interwoven with flak armour. These are the clothes of the Mordian Iron Guard, and these are the clothes that have clad Arlena for countless years of marching across some of the toughest ground the Imperium has ever needed reclaiming. Hers are a little more reinforced than the common guardsman, being stiffer and woven with carapace, rather than the usual flak, and her epaulettes are slightly more ornate than the factory-fresh uniforms of Mordian recruits, but nonetheless Before entering any battlefield Arlena spends a frankly incredible amount of time polishing and ironing her clothing until it is wrinkle-free and she can see her own reflection in her boots- anyone else showing anywhere near her level of dedication when it comes to prim and proper dress will quickly find themselves on her good side. Armament: This really depends on the situation she expects to be leading her men into, but Arlena's rank as a captain affords her more powerful weapons than her lower-ranking colleagues. This tends to manifest itself in bolt weaponry, rather than the usual slug or las-throwing equivalent. Generally, she can be seem carrying a bolt pistol and an accompanying power-sabre, but rarely she may be seen with a human-scaled bolter, the chugging noise of rocket-engines firing spelling doom for the Emperor's enemies. Personality/Demeanour: Like most Mordians, Arlena can generally be described with a small handful of adjectives; 'stern,' 'grim,' and 'dour.' A heavy-handed disciplinarian when it comes to soldiers that step out of line, those that show a similar level of grit and dedication to herself can earn themselves her steely respect. Arlena is also a firm believer in leading from the front- she is not the sort of captain to sit back with a cadre of vox-casters and medics, but instead will be directing the firing line herself, adding her own shots to the volleys of the soldiers under command and, if the situation turns dire, assisting with stretchering the wounded, sandbagging up fortifications and carrying ammunition about. Greatest Ambition: Her highest aspiration is to serve the Emperor faithfully and dutifully until her death. This makes her perhaps the perfect guardsman in terms of desire. Greatest Hatred: Ill-discipline, ill-fitting clothes, ill-manneredness. Skills: Arlena's skills as a combatant are second to those required by leadership. With a steely resolve and utterly unflinching exterior, it is said that Arlena's voice has never broken a single time in her 14 years of service. She is quite capable of instilling this sort of discipline in her own men, be it through sufficient carrot or stick, and despite this all manages to be an above-average gunman and melee combatant. In addition to this, Arlena possesses what has to be one of the rarest skills in the entirety of the guard- the stones to tell a commissar they aren't doing their job properly. During her stint as a sergeant she astonished the auxiliary attached to her squad by suggesting punishments for actions that they hadn't considered needed reprimanding. History: Mordian is a thoroughly miserable world in every description of the world. With Arlena's mother succumbing to post-partum depression at a very young age and her father not faring much better, Arlena was, for much of her early childhood, something of a feral lass, scrambling through the pitch-black streets of her hive world home and scratching out a living each day in the hopes that the next would come and she could repeat the process. It was a world of difficulty and danger, but somehow, she survived, and more than that, pulled through harder and stronger, an iron rod blasted by hotter flames than its peers. Having joined a gang by the time she was a young teen, she would watch as her friends fell prey to drugs and alcohol at equally young ages, dying of overdoses or of overestimating their abilities in fights- she learned her lesson the hard way, a good portion of her face being carved open when she was 14 years old, the young girl surviving through grit and a merciful street doctor that meant her visage would be scarred, but not permanently ruined. At 17 years old she was involved in a particularly brutal turf war, one that was so rowdy that the local PDF were deployed to it. Picked up by the scruff of her neck by a Mordian trooper and practically press-ganged into the Guard initially, she took to the shining and discipline far too well for someone that had had none of it for most of her life. Nowadays, she would claim that the wild part of her life poorly reflected her true personality, for it was here, in the Iron Guard, that she proved herself. Deployed as part of the Mordian 246th, she would see action in three separate campaigns on four different worlds (and one moon,) each new environment clawing her slightly further up the ranks by her own grit and determination. Having twice fought orks and once fought renegades, she is no stranger to many of the threats that plague the Imperium, taking this new reforming not as something negative, but as a chance for her to forge these disparate souls into an efficient and brutal fighting force, like she was so many years ago. Miscellaneous: Arlena despises combat stims and their users, but has a particular weakness for dammassine; so much so that there are rumours the normally entirely by-the-regulations officer carries a hip flask of the stuff on her at all times, and, many a drunkard guardsman has accused her of drinking their confiscated amasec. Arlena is an absolutely mean regicide player. Perfectly willing to sacrifice vast swathes of pieces to secure herself victory, she is surprisingly gentle when it comes to beginners to the game, and is willing to teach anyone the basic rules once. Once they know those however, the kid gloves are permanently removed.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka 415633-983223-17-Zhatka had observed the rest of the Command Squad over the weeks spent in their company. He was not impressed. Lieutenant Sithech. Elderly. Weak, and weakening further. A superior- in absence of the Captain, the squad's presiding officer- but not important enough for life extension. Inappropriately jovial. Willing to die for the Emperor, at least. Trooper Charlene. Undisciplined. Unmotivated. Feckless. Lazy if not compelled. Unacceptable weakness. At least the Captain was willing to do so. Trooper Telaci. Nearly incomprehensible. Undisciplined. Untrustworthy. Jittery. Likely the sort to shoot those who couldn't shoot him back, if he decided to do so unjustly. Weakness. Such traits were incompatible with cohesion in a command squad. Trooper Richard. Heavy gunner. Strong. Focused. Arrogant, however. Inefficient use of a heavy bolter. It was designed to kill large numbers of enemies. It was not designed for precise shooting. Foolishness. Trooper Deacon. Gunner's mate. Improper focus. Too keen on survival. Attempted to spread his cult at any opportunity. Not interested. The Emperor asks that you die in his name. This would not include gathering supposed holy trinkets. Weakness. Corporal Tharn. Slow for a corporal. Partially deaf. Undisciplined. Unmotivated. Talked too much. Poor etiquette. Barely able to hold his lasgun properly. Weakness. It was hard to tell which of these was worst. Only Captain Di Fieroccu and Sergeant Cestarn seemed anywhere close to competent. The former was Mordian. Too intent on drama. Insistent that he not "walk to his death" on the battlefield. Nonetheless, disciplined. Willing to die for the Emperor. Firm leadership skills. Did not allow incompetence. Any Watchmaster would be proud, but for her failure to punish sufficiently. The latter was put together. Veteran. Still too jovial, but intelligent in his approaches. Fearless, as a grenadier ought to be. Neither was perfect, but they were impressive compared to the rest. The rest of the company were neither green nor veteran, mostly. Their training was impersonal. Their attitude was lax. Weakness. Training progressed too slowly, not harsh enough, albeit firmer for the command squad. It was necessary. It was appreciated. Still, too much time passed. One month before redeployment; two weeks in the Warp, a much greater span of months in realspace; days more moving to the destination in realspace. Incompetency. Much too slow. Vocintis might well have been gone by the time they arrived. Arrive they did, however. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka remained utterly silent in the straps of his harness, patiently awaiting the gunship's touchdown. His weapon was attached to the ship's wall; one strap of his pack remained over a free shoulder, firmly held in place; his outfit remained unchanged, down to the rebreather, but for nine squares of checker patterning placed upon the topmost segment of his breastplate. This latter idiosyncracy had been insisted upon by several squad members for identification purposes. Sensible enough. It was nonetheless undesirable. It marked him as an individual. That wasn't his purpose. None of this ought to have been his purpose. He was to die for the Emperor. This position, placement within Captain Di Fieroccu's command squad and her instructions to him, ran counter to this. He had tried to content himself. As long as he died doing the Emperor's will, he would ablate Krieg's shame but marginally. Yet it seemed insufficient, especially given... the rest of the command squad. 'It's been too long. In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement.' This was his response to the Lieutenant. He had not needed to steel himself. He was ever-steeled.</s> <\|message\|>Armsman Telaci Vast He had been off of a planet. He had felt at home, at peace... But then he had discovered that as a guardsman, he couldn't just part ways and rejoin the crew, and that there were armsmen actively monitering him. Him! A voidsman himself by trade, being monitored by his own bred'ren to make sure he behaved and kept to the ship! Even when he had talked to them, tried to explain his situation, they had been hardened, turned away from him. So it was, that in grim dissapointment he had gone through the motions of military life, stirring his inner flame only to ensure it didn't die enirely. But then it had been time to fight again. He had taken out his old shotgun and set to work. Cleaning out the barrel for the umpteenth time. Then he had slowly gone about fixing the elements to it. The stock, screwed in and secured. The foregrip, slid down and secured. Sight secured. He checked it, double checked it, triple checked it, and then took his lighter out, held it to the purity seal he had been handed by a red-robed man, then when the wax had melted just enough to become 'tacky,' he would press it against the side. "Right den, machin bred'ren. We gon' be workin' together 'gain, so no funny business, eh?" That was as good as his machine spirit prayers got really. When the call had came to sit down in he gunship, he had followed without comment, wrapping first the bandana around his head, and then placing the helmet down, tightening the strap. He strapped his FUBAR to his backpack, slid his knife into its sheath, and then slung his gun over his shoulder, walking towards the dropship. Once there, eyes darting about, he would remove his pack, strap himself in, and get ready for seeing a sky again. Looking towards the krieger, he would raise an eyebrow, shaking his head as he did so. He had quickly learned there was little to gain by asking him why he was so suicidal. "Would prefer t'be up 'ere directin' cannons den down on de ground, but, ifi gotta be doin' dis, den at least I be gettin' paid fi it."</s>	<\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu A song drifted through the dropship as it rattled through space and to a hot insertion. It was a mournful song, a song in High Gothic, but accented with the flavours of Mordia. "Era una notte che pioveva e che tirava un forte vento immaginatevi che grande tormento per un Mordino che stava a vegliàr." She looked about, knowing that there were none of her planetmen around her to sing with her. It was the sort of song that would normally be sung on the march, but she had turned it into almost a dirge, reluctantly admitting that her death was hurtling towards her faster than she could comprehend. "A mezzanotte arriva il cambio accompagnato dal capoposto ohi, sentinella, ritorna al tuo posto sotto la tenda a riposàr." The next verse came and went, but before she had finished the song she would note what the Krieger had said, and how she would need to be a Captain, not a Mordian. "Zhatka, I will not have you be throwing the Emperor's currency away as if it held no value. If you so much as think about hurling yourself headfirst into the first heretic or xenos we see, I will personally drag you back to your barracks in disgrace." She had rapidly learned that there was very little threatening a krieger with physical violence accomplished but this? This generally seemed to work quite well. "Right then ladies and gentlemen. Our duty as a command squad is to ensure that the soldiers under our banner are working in an orderly and efficient fashion. I will have no dereliction of duty, no recklessness, no cowardice and absolutely no splitting away from the squad, is that understood?"</s>
<\|description\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Age: 32 Gender: Female Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 80kg Former Regiment: Mordian Iron Guard Speciality: Company Captain Appearance: Arlena could, if you looked past much of her steelier exterior, be called 'beautiful.' To do so, one would need to take in her rich black hair, hazelnut eyes and tanned olive skin, whilst at the same time looking past a back rigid from perpetually standing to attention, the long scar trailing from between her eyebrows to down below her jawline, her nose showing signs of being stitched back together and, the rare times it is visible, the pockmarked scar tissue along her right hand side visible without her shirt on. Besides the more immediate aspects of her appearance there is also the fact that despite being of no small rank she has clearly spent a not-insignificant amount of time toning her physique. Her figure is muscled and fairly bulky, and when she rolls up her sleeves to assist with moving or carrying something it definitely shows. Uniform: Golden epaulettes, commissar-like cap, rich blue overcoat and fine trousers interwoven with flak armour. These are the clothes of the Mordian Iron Guard, and these are the clothes that have clad Arlena for countless years of marching across some of the toughest ground the Imperium has ever needed reclaiming. Hers are a little more reinforced than the common guardsman, being stiffer and woven with carapace, rather than the usual flak, and her epaulettes are slightly more ornate than the factory-fresh uniforms of Mordian recruits, but nonetheless Before entering any battlefield Arlena spends a frankly incredible amount of time polishing and ironing her clothing until it is wrinkle-free and she can see her own reflection in her boots- anyone else showing anywhere near her level of dedication when it comes to prim and proper dress will quickly find themselves on her good side. Armament: This really depends on the situation she expects to be leading her men into, but Arlena's rank as a captain affords her more powerful weapons than her lower-ranking colleagues. This tends to manifest itself in bolt weaponry, rather than the usual slug or las-throwing equivalent. Generally, she can be seem carrying a bolt pistol and an accompanying power-sabre, but rarely she may be seen with a human-scaled bolter, the chugging noise of rocket-engines firing spelling doom for the Emperor's enemies. Personality/Demeanour: Like most Mordians, Arlena can generally be described with a small handful of adjectives; 'stern,' 'grim,' and 'dour.' A heavy-handed disciplinarian when it comes to soldiers that step out of line, those that show a similar level of grit and dedication to herself can earn themselves her steely respect. Arlena is also a firm believer in leading from the front- she is not the sort of captain to sit back with a cadre of vox-casters and medics, but instead will be directing the firing line herself, adding her own shots to the volleys of the soldiers under command and, if the situation turns dire, assisting with stretchering the wounded, sandbagging up fortifications and carrying ammunition about. Greatest Ambition: Her highest aspiration is to serve the Emperor faithfully and dutifully until her death. This makes her perhaps the perfect guardsman in terms of desire. Greatest Hatred: Ill-discipline, ill-fitting clothes, ill-manneredness. Skills: Arlena's skills as a combatant are second to those required by leadership. With a steely resolve and utterly unflinching exterior, it is said that Arlena's voice has never broken a single time in her 14 years of service. She is quite capable of instilling this sort of discipline in her own men, be it through sufficient carrot or stick, and despite this all manages to be an above-average gunman and melee combatant. In addition to this, Arlena possesses what has to be one of the rarest skills in the entirety of the guard- the stones to tell a commissar they aren't doing their job properly. During her stint as a sergeant she astonished the auxiliary attached to her squad by suggesting punishments for actions that they hadn't considered needed reprimanding. History: Mordian is a thoroughly miserable world in every description of the world. With Arlena's mother succumbing to post-partum depression at a very young age and her father not faring much better, Arlena was, for much of her early childhood, something of a feral lass, scrambling through the pitch-black streets of her hive world home and scratching out a living each day in the hopes that the next would come and she could repeat the process. It was a world of difficulty and danger, but somehow, she survived, and more than that, pulled through harder and stronger, an iron rod blasted by hotter flames than its peers. Having joined a gang by the time she was a young teen, she would watch as her friends fell prey to drugs and alcohol at equally young ages, dying of overdoses or of overestimating their abilities in fights- she learned her lesson the hard way, a good portion of her face being carved open when she was 14 years old, the young girl surviving through grit and a merciful street doctor that meant her visage would be scarred, but not permanently ruined. At 17 years old she was involved in a particularly brutal turf war, one that was so rowdy that the local PDF were deployed to it. Picked up by the scruff of her neck by a Mordian trooper and practically press-ganged into the Guard initially, she took to the shining and discipline far too well for someone that had had none of it for most of her life. Nowadays, she would claim that the wild part of her life poorly reflected her true personality, for it was here, in the Iron Guard, that she proved herself. Deployed as part of the Mordian 246th, she would see action in three separate campaigns on four different worlds (and one moon,) each new environment clawing her slightly further up the ranks by her own grit and determination. Having twice fought orks and once fought renegades, she is no stranger to many of the threats that plague the Imperium, taking this new reforming not as something negative, but as a chance for her to forge these disparate souls into an efficient and brutal fighting force, like she was so many years ago. Miscellaneous: Arlena despises combat stims and their users, but has a particular weakness for dammassine; so much so that there are rumours the normally entirely by-the-regulations officer carries a hip flask of the stuff on her at all times, and, many a drunkard guardsman has accused her of drinking their confiscated amasec. Arlena is an absolutely mean regicide player. Perfectly willing to sacrifice vast swathes of pieces to secure herself victory, she is surprisingly gentle when it comes to beginners to the game, and is willing to teach anyone the basic rules once. Once they know those however, the kid gloves are permanently removed.</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was only being given more and more confirmation that treading the skies was not a great idea, though he forced himself to keep his face level and focused. At least he hoped he was, feeling the incoming fire against their transport as they hurtled further downwards towards the surface. His eyes half closed as he offered up a prayer to the Sky Father, continuing to wait to be released from the harness and to be free to get down to blessed ground. As much as he didn't like the idea of throwing himself from the transport into a brief free fall to the ground, but it beat getting shot into pieces before the transport could ever simply touch down properly and let the cargo walk off the transport as if it were a stroll into a sky port. The count down to the harnesses being released was a relief, a brief moment of respite in the face of the impending warfare. Rising when the harness released, heading for the nearest available exit and, the moment he could, throwing himself out of the transport almost eagerly. Adrenaline pumping as he plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a tumble and a roll, he didn't immediately throw himself upright, keeping to a knee and not simply throwing himself upwards into the line of potential fire. The classical sounds of warfare, the screams of dying, the rage of weapons fire, battle cries and incoherent noises that one could not simply piece apart without risking their own well being. He snapped the Lasgun to his shoulder, familiar weight of his cut down shotgun and large sword on his hip a reminder he hadn't lost his kit on the landing. The first he spotted was the Lieutenant, as others were landing, he barked out, the loud, booming voice capable of overriding the sounds of warfare and weapons fire. "This way! We regroup over here!" The sergeant was quick to move, joining the Lieutenant in cover, hopefully having rallied the others who were landing and giving them a location to rally to, a direction to go instead of simply wallowing in a hole, getting shot at and waiting for an unlucky weapon to strike them down. There was issues with sitting put, even if it was in a solid spot, eventually someone would find something to hit the position with that would end up wasting the Father's soldiers. Still, per the Captain's orders, no splitting the squad, so he took cover and waited by the Lieutenant for the rest to rally so they could advance towards actual objectives and do the Sky Father's bidding.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine. The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to. Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed. Death outside. Just as he sought. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact. The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.</s> <\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" The ship was taking fire. Corporal Tharn clung to his lasgun with one arm, the other hand white-knuckling the bench underneath him. The order came through. They were going to jump from the craft, a rolling bailout. It was, frankly, fething insane. Jumping from a moving air vehicle to the ground without so much as a strip of cloth to keep 'em safe? There was absolutely no way in the Warp they we- Green light, everyone stood up. By the God-Emperor, they were actually doing it. Jumping out of a damn gunship with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This was mad. Every singe person here was absolutely mad. Mordecai clutched his rifle close as they stepped towards the gate. Surely this was a joke. Surely they'd be told to sit back down and- And he was out. Tucked up in a rolling ball, one hand holding onto his flakweave cap, the other clutching his lasgun as close to his chest as possible. The rough jostling from the landing shook every bone in his body, and he was fairly certain he'd landed on a particularly sharp patch of dirt. Leaning up from laying on his back just enough to peer around him without exposing himself, he spotted the Krieger. Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, Mordecai took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he began to scrabble across the ground after the meltagunner, in a weird half-crawl half-walk, he pushed himself onward towards the rest of the command squad, scrabbling down into cover near them. He did his best to hold his rifle at the ready, though the amount of shaking coming from the Corporal was damn-near audible.</s>	<\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Hovering bailout. Not the first one she had ever participated in. Adjusting her cap slightly, she would give her commsbead a tap to activate it, before her hands would reach down to her thigh and triple-check her power sword was secure in its couplings. As the bay doors opened up she would straighten her back, the people seated closer to the door bailing out rapidly. She would follow. A hand on the brim of her cap, she sprinted towards the door, and just as she was about to leave, stopped and pencil dropped out. Carapace armour was much touger than the usual flak armour, and its impact-dissipaiting properties worked especially well when pitted against blunt force trauma. Turning her knees to the ground, the captain would assess the battlefield in the brief moment of weightlessness before she made contact with the blood soaked mud, before sucking in a breath as the contact with the ground rippled through her entire body. Looking around, she spotted her squad hunkering down in a crater and nodded to herself. Good. A solid defensive position. Ripping her bolt pistol from her holster, she burst forward, boots squelching slightly in the mud, before crouching down in the middle of the crater. "Are you cold Corporal?" She said towards Tharn, grabbing the vox's microphone from his back and wiping some of the mud away from it. "No? Then stop shaking and hold your rifle steady, by the Emperor." Shaking her head, she pressed the broadcast button- the squad's commsbeads lighting up as she did so. "Listen up! You may have had a rough landing you may have already seen your comrades die, but now is not the time to baulk in the face of adversity. We did not cross the bloodied fields of Vernum to cower here today! Reform your squads, reestablish your chain of command and wherever you see the banner of our regiments, rally to them! Show these bastards what true servants of the Emperor can do!" She removed her finger, head whirling around. "Where's that damn fool fake Cadian and the voidsman?"</s>
<\|description\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" Age: 21 Gender: Male Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 85kg Former Regiment: 232nd Cadian Mechanized Artillery, listed on transfer papers as "223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry." Speciality: Basilisk Artillery Tank Operator, listed on transfer papers as "Infantry Weapons Specialist." Appearance: Time as a vehicle crewman far from the frontlines has left Mordecai a little lax in keeping up proper appearance as a guardsman. Beyond the physical standards expected of every single position no matter their role, he leaves much to be desired. His ruddy brown hair is often more disheveled than it should be, the outline of protective goggles is permanently formed around his face from countless hours of sun and residue, framing his striking violet eyes(a natural Cadian abnormality). His forearms are sharply more tanned and colored than the rest of his fair complexion and naturally paled color, detailing his penchant for rolling up his fatigue sleeves to combat the heat of the tank and its main cannon. Other than the occasional burn scar from freshly-ejected shells or hot machine parts from the tank, his body is free of cuts, bruises, scrapes and other unnatural blemishes. While not visibly noticeable, his time operating the vehicle carrying a massive Earthshaker cannon has left him both somewhat unphased by the loud sounds of war, as well as suffering from notable hearing loss, which can make casual conversation in quiet conditions more than a bit frustrating for both parties. Uniform: The standard Cadian fatigues, newly issued in the colors of the 87th Combined, paired with black combat boots, light vehicle crewman flak armor, a light flakweave field cap for head protection, knee pads, and thick operator gloves. A pair of protective goggles are generally kept wrapped around his head or headgear when not being worn over his eyes, and a personal micro-comm ear and mouth set dons the left side of his face. A secondary dress uniform is kept for parade and inspection, consisting of an olive drab single-breasted coat with a high collar and formal, tailored pants tucked into black jackboots. The coat features thin epaulets with a solid red stripe lining the edge, denoting the wearer as an artillery regiment member. Armament: As the vehicle commander of his original Basilisk crew, Mordecai was issued a standard Cadian M36 Kantrael lasgun, but with many of the redundant and non-load bearing aspects of the weapon removed to decrease the size and weight, while still maintaining a higher range and power than the standard lascarbine. However, this has since been replaced with a stock MG Kantrael "Short" pattern lasgun, which is a fair bit bulkier than he'd grown accustomed to. He also keeps the standard combat knife bayonet on hand, with it having commonly doubled as a screwdriver, hammer, or prybar during his time in the Basilisk. An autopistol with a single twenty round magazine is generally tucked into a small holster in his field uniform, serving as a quickly-reached sidearm in a dire situation. Personality/Demeanour: His time in the rear, and in a semi-isolated vehicle crew at that, has made Mordecai complacent, and it very much shows. Much more of a slacker and layabout than one would expect for someone raised Cadian, his casualness is bound to get him put at the wrong end of some disciplinary reports soon. He's very amicable, having enjoyed the closeness and camaraderie once shared with his former crewmen, but can be a bit annoying in his constant attempts to break up the quiet with chatter and small talk. He also seems to lack the proper mindset for how to behave around superiors, having forgotten much of the proper etiquette for interacting with a senior officer face-to-face. In combat, Mordecai cracks, and he cracks hard. It's been years since he had to properly make up part of a firing line, and even that was at simple training targets. He cowers, blubbers, panics, and prays more than he shoots his gun, and it'll be a miracle if the commissar or an officer doesn't use him for bolt pistol practice. His one saving grace is that he can shrug off the sounds of explosions, gunfire, cannons, and screaming, having grown accustomed to spending hours directly next to one of the loudest noises known to the Guard. Greatest Ambition: To survive long enough to be officially discharged and able to retire with a home, a family, and perhaps even a nice pension for service. Greatest Hatred: Quiet. When there's too much...nothing in the air. No sounds, just the tension hanging, waiting to be broken...it drives him mad. Skills: Although he had served as the tank's commander, during his time with his Basilisk, every member of the crew took equal turns driving the tank, sighting and firing the main gun, and loading it, so he has a quality level of experience in driving tracked vehicles, as well as in operating indirect fire weapons. He can also make a decent optics spotter and vox-operator in a pinch, as both were tools commonly used by him and his crew. Lastly, while nowhere near the levels of even a minor ordained member of the Machine Cult, he's a decent handyman when it comes to keeping vehicles up and running in the field. History: Mordecai was born to a Cadian regiment on deployment, so while not raised on the homeworld, he received as close a facsimile as one could muster in the field, though it was far from par, given artillery regiments like the 232nd weren't known for the quality of their infantry. Having been one of only three children born to the regiment, his training in proper Cadian marching and firing formations was...mediocre, to say the least. Had training conditions been more ideal, he likely would have been drummed out into a cannon fodder conscript regiment within the first few months. But, he managed to make it to his teen years, and was thus appointed a Whiteshield member of the 232nd. With this distinguished title came the honor, nay, the privilege of lugging about artillery shells and spare parts, standing firewatch over the barracks for eight hours straight, and even spending a month as the aide-de-camp of the regimental Major. By the time he reached proper maturity to be regarded as an adult, someone somewhere must have thought him worth a damn, as they placed him in a new Basilisk as a crewman, alongside the other two former Whiteshields he had trained with as a youth. Being the best-performing of the three, which wasn't saying much, he was given the position of the crew's commander, and the rank of Corporal so that command would know he was at least slightly worth interacting with on the vox. Being the closest thing to classmates as one gets with Cadians, the three got on like a house on fire, quickly becoming steadfast comrades in the face of adversity both foreign and domestic. Although frowned upon by command, the three would commonly rotate between the driver, gunner, and loader positions of the tank, giving them all a familiarity with the vehicle few others had. Shortly after his 20th birthday, the 232nd were attached as artillery support to the Cadian 223rd Mechanized Infantry, and thrown into the last big push against Ork Warboss Thrakta. Mordecai had never really seen any of the Imperium's foes, xeno or otherwise, so his knowledge of Orks came solely from the information published in the Uplifting Primer. To Mordecai, the final victory consisted of chugging along in his tank, flinging heavy firepower at what he believed to be stumpy, pudgy blobs of green alien dimwits, and simply having a grand old time. If this is what war was, then Mordecai never wanted it to end. But in the end, it did. Eventually the attack orders dwindled, before stopping entirely. The crew were ordered to the regimental HQ for debriefing, and Mordecai was blindsided by being taken directly to the Major's office. Told to take a seat, Mordecai was even more taken aback at the Major seeming just as puzzled as he was. Apparently, he'd received orders to transfer a "Corporal Tharn" to a newly-formed composite infantry regiment. Despite this making no sense whatsoever, the Major had no ability to appeal or request clarification, the orders having come as part of a Departmento Munitorum debriefing pamphlet. With a pit in his stomach large enough to rival the Eye of Terror, Mordecai shipped out to report for initial formation and inspection. Upon arrival, he would learn exactly what had happened, and why even the Major had been so bewildered. The courier had been meant to deliver the package to the 223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry, with a Corporal Servan Tharn being the intended recipient of the transfer orders. Upon learning this, Mordecai requested an immediate transfer back to his old regiment, and that this Servan Tharn properly take his place. However, the 223rd had already been folded in their entirety into another regiment, and all official records stated that a "Corporal Servan Tharn" had already been transferred here instead. With no official way out, Mordecai swallowed his fear, and took his place with the other new arrivals to the composite regiment, just in time for the victory parade. Miscellaneous: He keeps a heavily-modified Screamer proximity alarm rigged to hum at a much lower volume to use as a white noise machine for when he sleeps in quiet places, having gotten used to sleeping alongside an idling engine during his field deployments in the basilisk.</s> <\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu A song drifted through the dropship as it rattled through space and to a hot insertion. It was a mournful song, a song in High Gothic, but accented with the flavours of Mordia. "Era una notte che pioveva e che tirava un forte vento immaginatevi che grande tormento per un Mordino che stava a vegliàr." She looked about, knowing that there were none of her planetmen around her to sing with her. It was the sort of song that would normally be sung on the march, but she had turned it into almost a dirge, reluctantly admitting that her death was hurtling towards her faster than she could comprehend. "A mezzanotte arriva il cambio accompagnato dal capoposto ohi, sentinella, ritorna al tuo posto sotto la tenda a riposàr." The next verse came and went, but before she had finished the song she would note what the Krieger had said, and how she would need to be a Captain, not a Mordian. "Zhatka, I will not have you be throwing the Emperor's currency away as if it held no value. If you so much as think about hurling yourself headfirst into the first heretic or xenos we see, I will personally drag you back to your barracks in disgrace." She had rapidly learned that there was very little threatening a krieger with physical violence accomplished but this? This generally seemed to work quite well. "Right then ladies and gentlemen. Our duty as a command squad is to ensure that the soldiers under our banner are working in an orderly and efficient fashion. I will have no dereliction of duty, no recklessness, no cowardice and absolutely no splitting away from the squad, is that understood?"</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was fairly uncomfortable, by all accounts. Travailing the black skies between worlds was always unsettling, especially when passing into, well, he didn't have a good word for it in the Father's tongue. But it shortened passage between places, he'd heard others refer to it as the Warp, and he supposed that was as close of a word as he would get. Still, the worst of it was always setting off into, and back from, the black skies. Violent, shuddering, and thoroughly alien to anything that the feral worlder could have ever imagined before departing his home. It was something he never got used to, and he had to do his level best to keep a straight, even face as they descended into the oncoming fire. What was interesting to the man was how others had handled this so far. The masked one, a Krieg Man as he was told, muttered grim prayers to the, he assumed, Father as a response to the one having said something about here we go again. The one that spoke in such a thick manner that he went completely understood also replied something in return, lost between the sounds of flak and anti sky fire, and the descending sky ship. Lastly was the Captain singing and then telling off the Krieg Man about not marching simply off to death. Blind death wishes didn't make sense to the Sergeant, but he didn't question it either. Different tribes had different beliefs, but this was their new tribe, so new traditions had to be respected. It seemed this tribe leader, the Captain, was not having any of that death seeking attitude. "Aye m'um, though sooner we're off this sky ship, the better." Rojack was worried about this whole 'command squad' thing that was being talked about. He was hoping that didn't mean sitting in some far speaker hut, staring at the fighting while the Captain barked orders into the far speakers. He suspected that the woman was not that sort of officer, given the explanation of their task, one couldn't really do that thing from a far speaker hut. Not effectively, at any rate, but there was only one way to find out. Find out and that meant sitting here, waiting for the sky ship to actually land so they could actually go about their job in the Father's name. So he mostly listened and waited, trying to quell the nerves over being stuck in a metal box loosely hurtling to the ground to disgorge its cargo.</s>	<\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" As far as travelling in one of the God-Emperor's weapon-coated hulking machines of death went, Mordecai had always considered ship travel one of the better prospects to be stuck with. It wasn't all great, of course, what with the constant sense of tension in the air whenever there was the slightest bit of Warp turbulence. But for the most part, it reminded him of being in a basilisk tank. The constant background noise was relaxing, kept him at ease, and gave him plenty of time to think. Shifted from the tank crew he'd been practically raised with to an infantry regiment full of people from all over. Well, at least he'd been graced with the pleasure of assignment to a Command Squad, even if it was under the command of a Captain who may as well have been a human icepop for how cold she was and how far that stick up her ass went. The others were a bit of a mixed bag, some good some bad. Mordecai figured the voidsman, Telaci, was a well enough man, if a bit indecipherable at times. The feralworlder Sergeant Rojack was in a similar boat, a fine man for the most part, but his accent and words were a bit thick for Mordecai's taste. And then there's the Krieger. Mordecai honestly wasn't even sure if he was human. If the Captain was a stick in the mud, this man WAS the mud. At least the Captain understood human emotion and conversation. As for their duties, being a junior NCO in a Command Squad definitely wasn't the worst place to end up in an infantry regiment. He didn't have any idea what the Captain would have him doing, but at least it was vaguely similar to when he led his tank. The Captain was talking now. Between the perpetual ringing in his ears, his own thoughts, and the noises of the ship, it was a bit of a struggle to hear completely. The gist of it was about the Command Squad's job to maintain discipline and control over the Company. "Understood. Keep the lads in line, make sure everything goes down as it should."</s>
<\|description\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" Age: 21 Gender: Male Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 85kg Former Regiment: 232nd Cadian Mechanized Artillery, listed on transfer papers as "223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry." Speciality: Basilisk Artillery Tank Operator, listed on transfer papers as "Infantry Weapons Specialist." Appearance: Time as a vehicle crewman far from the frontlines has left Mordecai a little lax in keeping up proper appearance as a guardsman. Beyond the physical standards expected of every single position no matter their role, he leaves much to be desired. His ruddy brown hair is often more disheveled than it should be, the outline of protective goggles is permanently formed around his face from countless hours of sun and residue, framing his striking violet eyes(a natural Cadian abnormality). His forearms are sharply more tanned and colored than the rest of his fair complexion and naturally paled color, detailing his penchant for rolling up his fatigue sleeves to combat the heat of the tank and its main cannon. Other than the occasional burn scar from freshly-ejected shells or hot machine parts from the tank, his body is free of cuts, bruises, scrapes and other unnatural blemishes. While not visibly noticeable, his time operating the vehicle carrying a massive Earthshaker cannon has left him both somewhat unphased by the loud sounds of war, as well as suffering from notable hearing loss, which can make casual conversation in quiet conditions more than a bit frustrating for both parties. Uniform: The standard Cadian fatigues, newly issued in the colors of the 87th Combined, paired with black combat boots, light vehicle crewman flak armor, a light flakweave field cap for head protection, knee pads, and thick operator gloves. A pair of protective goggles are generally kept wrapped around his head or headgear when not being worn over his eyes, and a personal micro-comm ear and mouth set dons the left side of his face. A secondary dress uniform is kept for parade and inspection, consisting of an olive drab single-breasted coat with a high collar and formal, tailored pants tucked into black jackboots. The coat features thin epaulets with a solid red stripe lining the edge, denoting the wearer as an artillery regiment member. Armament: As the vehicle commander of his original Basilisk crew, Mordecai was issued a standard Cadian M36 Kantrael lasgun, but with many of the redundant and non-load bearing aspects of the weapon removed to decrease the size and weight, while still maintaining a higher range and power than the standard lascarbine. However, this has since been replaced with a stock MG Kantrael "Short" pattern lasgun, which is a fair bit bulkier than he'd grown accustomed to. He also keeps the standard combat knife bayonet on hand, with it having commonly doubled as a screwdriver, hammer, or prybar during his time in the Basilisk. An autopistol with a single twenty round magazine is generally tucked into a small holster in his field uniform, serving as a quickly-reached sidearm in a dire situation. Personality/Demeanour: His time in the rear, and in a semi-isolated vehicle crew at that, has made Mordecai complacent, and it very much shows. Much more of a slacker and layabout than one would expect for someone raised Cadian, his casualness is bound to get him put at the wrong end of some disciplinary reports soon. He's very amicable, having enjoyed the closeness and camaraderie once shared with his former crewmen, but can be a bit annoying in his constant attempts to break up the quiet with chatter and small talk. He also seems to lack the proper mindset for how to behave around superiors, having forgotten much of the proper etiquette for interacting with a senior officer face-to-face. In combat, Mordecai cracks, and he cracks hard. It's been years since he had to properly make up part of a firing line, and even that was at simple training targets. He cowers, blubbers, panics, and prays more than he shoots his gun, and it'll be a miracle if the commissar or an officer doesn't use him for bolt pistol practice. His one saving grace is that he can shrug off the sounds of explosions, gunfire, cannons, and screaming, having grown accustomed to spending hours directly next to one of the loudest noises known to the Guard. Greatest Ambition: To survive long enough to be officially discharged and able to retire with a home, a family, and perhaps even a nice pension for service. Greatest Hatred: Quiet. When there's too much...nothing in the air. No sounds, just the tension hanging, waiting to be broken...it drives him mad. Skills: Although he had served as the tank's commander, during his time with his Basilisk, every member of the crew took equal turns driving the tank, sighting and firing the main gun, and loading it, so he has a quality level of experience in driving tracked vehicles, as well as in operating indirect fire weapons. He can also make a decent optics spotter and vox-operator in a pinch, as both were tools commonly used by him and his crew. Lastly, while nowhere near the levels of even a minor ordained member of the Machine Cult, he's a decent handyman when it comes to keeping vehicles up and running in the field. History: Mordecai was born to a Cadian regiment on deployment, so while not raised on the homeworld, he received as close a facsimile as one could muster in the field, though it was far from par, given artillery regiments like the 232nd weren't known for the quality of their infantry. Having been one of only three children born to the regiment, his training in proper Cadian marching and firing formations was...mediocre, to say the least. Had training conditions been more ideal, he likely would have been drummed out into a cannon fodder conscript regiment within the first few months. But, he managed to make it to his teen years, and was thus appointed a Whiteshield member of the 232nd. With this distinguished title came the honor, nay, the privilege of lugging about artillery shells and spare parts, standing firewatch over the barracks for eight hours straight, and even spending a month as the aide-de-camp of the regimental Major. By the time he reached proper maturity to be regarded as an adult, someone somewhere must have thought him worth a damn, as they placed him in a new Basilisk as a crewman, alongside the other two former Whiteshields he had trained with as a youth. Being the best-performing of the three, which wasn't saying much, he was given the position of the crew's commander, and the rank of Corporal so that command would know he was at least slightly worth interacting with on the vox. Being the closest thing to classmates as one gets with Cadians, the three got on like a house on fire, quickly becoming steadfast comrades in the face of adversity both foreign and domestic. Although frowned upon by command, the three would commonly rotate between the driver, gunner, and loader positions of the tank, giving them all a familiarity with the vehicle few others had. Shortly after his 20th birthday, the 232nd were attached as artillery support to the Cadian 223rd Mechanized Infantry, and thrown into the last big push against Ork Warboss Thrakta. Mordecai had never really seen any of the Imperium's foes, xeno or otherwise, so his knowledge of Orks came solely from the information published in the Uplifting Primer. To Mordecai, the final victory consisted of chugging along in his tank, flinging heavy firepower at what he believed to be stumpy, pudgy blobs of green alien dimwits, and simply having a grand old time. If this is what war was, then Mordecai never wanted it to end. But in the end, it did. Eventually the attack orders dwindled, before stopping entirely. The crew were ordered to the regimental HQ for debriefing, and Mordecai was blindsided by being taken directly to the Major's office. Told to take a seat, Mordecai was even more taken aback at the Major seeming just as puzzled as he was. Apparently, he'd received orders to transfer a "Corporal Tharn" to a newly-formed composite infantry regiment. Despite this making no sense whatsoever, the Major had no ability to appeal or request clarification, the orders having come as part of a Departmento Munitorum debriefing pamphlet. With a pit in his stomach large enough to rival the Eye of Terror, Mordecai shipped out to report for initial formation and inspection. Upon arrival, he would learn exactly what had happened, and why even the Major had been so bewildered. The courier had been meant to deliver the package to the 223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry, with a Corporal Servan Tharn being the intended recipient of the transfer orders. Upon learning this, Mordecai requested an immediate transfer back to his old regiment, and that this Servan Tharn properly take his place. However, the 223rd had already been folded in their entirety into another regiment, and all official records stated that a "Corporal Servan Tharn" had already been transferred here instead. With no official way out, Mordecai swallowed his fear, and took his place with the other new arrivals to the composite regiment, just in time for the victory parade. Miscellaneous: He keeps a heavily-modified Screamer proximity alarm rigged to hum at a much lower volume to use as a white noise machine for when he sleeps in quiet places, having gotten used to sleeping alongside an idling engine during his field deployments in the basilisk.</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was only being given more and more confirmation that treading the skies was not a great idea, though he forced himself to keep his face level and focused. At least he hoped he was, feeling the incoming fire against their transport as they hurtled further downwards towards the surface. His eyes half closed as he offered up a prayer to the Sky Father, continuing to wait to be released from the harness and to be free to get down to blessed ground. As much as he didn't like the idea of throwing himself from the transport into a brief free fall to the ground, but it beat getting shot into pieces before the transport could ever simply touch down properly and let the cargo walk off the transport as if it were a stroll into a sky port. The count down to the harnesses being released was a relief, a brief moment of respite in the face of the impending warfare. Rising when the harness released, heading for the nearest available exit and, the moment he could, throwing himself out of the transport almost eagerly. Adrenaline pumping as he plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a tumble and a roll, he didn't immediately throw himself upright, keeping to a knee and not simply throwing himself upwards into the line of potential fire. The classical sounds of warfare, the screams of dying, the rage of weapons fire, battle cries and incoherent noises that one could not simply piece apart without risking their own well being. He snapped the Lasgun to his shoulder, familiar weight of his cut down shotgun and large sword on his hip a reminder he hadn't lost his kit on the landing. The first he spotted was the Lieutenant, as others were landing, he barked out, the loud, booming voice capable of overriding the sounds of warfare and weapons fire. "This way! We regroup over here!" The sergeant was quick to move, joining the Lieutenant in cover, hopefully having rallied the others who were landing and giving them a location to rally to, a direction to go instead of simply wallowing in a hole, getting shot at and waiting for an unlucky weapon to strike them down. There was issues with sitting put, even if it was in a solid spot, eventually someone would find something to hit the position with that would end up wasting the Father's soldiers. Still, per the Captain's orders, no splitting the squad, so he took cover and waited by the Lieutenant for the rest to rally so they could advance towards actual objectives and do the Sky Father's bidding.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine. The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to. Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed. Death outside. Just as he sought. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact. The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.</s>	<\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" The ship was taking fire. Corporal Tharn clung to his lasgun with one arm, the other hand white-knuckling the bench underneath him. The order came through. They were going to jump from the craft, a rolling bailout. It was, frankly, fething insane. Jumping from a moving air vehicle to the ground without so much as a strip of cloth to keep 'em safe? There was absolutely no way in the Warp they we- Green light, everyone stood up. By the God-Emperor, they were actually doing it. Jumping out of a damn gunship with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This was mad. Every singe person here was absolutely mad. Mordecai clutched his rifle close as they stepped towards the gate. Surely this was a joke. Surely they'd be told to sit back down and- And he was out. Tucked up in a rolling ball, one hand holding onto his flakweave cap, the other clutching his lasgun as close to his chest as possible. The rough jostling from the landing shook every bone in his body, and he was fairly certain he'd landed on a particularly sharp patch of dirt. Leaning up from laying on his back just enough to peer around him without exposing himself, he spotted the Krieger. Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, Mordecai took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he began to scrabble across the ground after the meltagunner, in a weird half-crawl half-walk, he pushed himself onward towards the rest of the command squad, scrabbling down into cover near them. He did his best to hold his rifle at the ready, though the amount of shaking coming from the Corporal was damn-near audible.</s>
<\|description\|>Felix Volpe Alias: Kitsune Gender: Male Age: 17 Birthday: 7th of November Written Appearance: Felix stands at 4'11, and has a lithe build. The main phrase people think when they see him is Fox, as his features are quite vulpine. This isn't helped by Felix deliberately growing his red hair so that it looks like he has fox ears, and that his ears are covered by the bangs. His eyes are amber coloured, though it's rare to see them as his eyes are normally slit in a vulpine way. In his day to day life, he wears a green long-sleeved shirt, jeans cut off just below the knees and a pair of sandals. In the mirror world, his outfit changes to something resembling a shinto priest. A white shitagi covered by an red kosode and hakama, held up by an orange obi, over which he wears a orange haori with a fox head on the back. Over his face forms a white fox mask. On his feet, he wears his regular sandals. He comes equipped with a staff and a pistol. Personality: Felix is a fox in human skin, at least according to his friend Raphael. Devilishly intelligent, when given the proper motivation, but honestly his best ability is his wit. He excels in driving people to anger, as it makes it easier for him to play tricks on. Despite that, he has a reckless streak when it comes to those he cares about, often moving before his brain can catch up. Likes: Card Games, Travelling, Pizza Dislikes: Needles, Boredom Arcana Representation: Magician Relationships: Raphael Phobos, his best friend and main confidant in the investigation. He is aiming to study medicine, and provides treatment when Felix gets in over his head. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: Odin Stone, Felix's former guardian and father figure. Backstory: Felix was orphaned at a young age, his mother dying in childbirth and his father dying in a plane crash as he returned from a business trip. Felix was raised by Odin Stone, a friend of his father's. They spent alot of Felix's youth travelling for Odin's work, whatever that was Felix never learned, before Odin was finally comfortable enough to retire. This travelling gave Felix access to several cultures, and gave him an appreciation for how big the world actually is. When they finally settled down, around 8 years ago, Felix encountered his future best friend Raphael. The two initially didn't get on, with Felix being too free and Raphael being too rigid, but the two bonded over their love of foreign cultures. Though the two decided on different paths for their studies, Raphael decided on medicine, while Felix decided on history. The idea of a travelling archaeologist appealed greatly to the youth, particularly after he watched the three Indiana Jones Movies. (Yes, there are only three, what are you talking about?) When the letter came, Felix was initially sceptical, but the news reports soon convinced him. When the illness hit, Felix and Raphael took time off school to try and help his guardian, to little avail. After his death, the usually carefree Felix was incredibly serious. "Raphael, we are going to stop this guy. For Odin." Tenko Description of persona: An ethereal ninetailed fox seemingly made of white-gold. It's eyes burn with golden flames. A tenko is a kitsune who has ascended into becoming a minor god in the shinto pantheon, and white kitsune are servants of Inari the goddess of Agriculture and the patron of swordsmiths and merchants. Abilities: * Agi * Psi * Masukukaja Strengths: Resistant to Psi Boosts Elemental Attacks of the Party Weaknesses: Weak Against Ice Inability to learn Physical/Gun Moves Other: Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Suigin sighed due to a lack of progress in finding any substantial evidence for this case. It's normal for a normal high school student for him to be an amateur in this field. Not finding any evidence and just sitting still is the normal thing to do. It's too bad that his normality was already disturbed though. He must find something somewhere else to put an end to this case. To protect his bastions of the sacred everyday, he will find the culprit. Even if he's a normal person, his craving won't allow for anything else. Still though... "Wait, hold on a second," he said to himself. He wonders if these cleaning supplies really haven't been used before. Just by eyesight alone he knows that they've been gathering dust, proving that they shouldn't have been used recently. There's a small chance that it could've been faked so he went and touched all the instruments himself. He contemplated the details of the case after finishing. "Just where am I going to find anything else?" He most likely won't be able to solve this on his own. 'No choice but to rely on other's information,' he thought to himself. He sighed as he realized this could've been solved easily if he teamed up with Kenji. He shook his head out of those thoughts again. He needs to focus on the right thing now. Death Husband first, Blood Eye second. There's a saying to save the most important for last, so he might as well do that. He needs to convince himself that this is something important if he's going to devote a sufficient amount of effort towards it. He noticed the older woman's scheme. He's actually quite thankful towards her. He should find a way to pay her back. He walked towards the other two students in the room that were investigating. 'The broken glass, the finger, the missing person, the scream, the piano, the location, the lockers.' Pymeroce @World Traveler "What did you two find? It could be anything at all, just tell me. We should also probably share theories while we're at it." He's going to use them to further his understanding of the case.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s> <\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @Aurrorian@World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce Investigation: Clue finding; final phase AS the group had convened and had gotten to work investigating the room the new counselor/ accomplice went to buy them more time. As she went out of the room to stop the faculty members that came up to investigate the noise as well she was able to stall them for a few more moments. The leader of this group was the vice principle Miss Yoshioka Aki she seemed very straight laced and was a strict teacher at the school. Most students avoid her if at all possible thanks to the cold aura she seemed to have around her. She then said "hmph, the music teacher isn't here. She is still in the faculty office trying to sort out the music for the festival. Now please step aside I know for a fact that students don't practice for the band until the afternoon classes." she told her determined to lead her team of 3 faculty office members. The students were quickly starting to run out time. The best they could do is examine the room a bit more to find any evidence, collect any samples, or investigate the room before the vice principle would barge in and catch them doing something they shouldn't they could either jump out the window and make a run for it to avoid getting into trouble or take a chance to make one final walk through around the room to collect any evidence they could use for later. After all they could simply discuss this at a more appropriate time later ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Within the warehouse Shiba stayed with her through the trip and remained quiet. As they got to the warehouse however they saw it was brimming with the staff. Clearly they had a new shipment come in. Shiba then grabbed a piece of Mana's shirt and followed her like a child would when they got into a store. He stayed close not wanting to be near any of these other people. Clearly Shiba's isolationism is blindly apparent he was having a hard time handling it. They didn't need to take long to find the managers office nearby he was a very heavy set man with a large gut looking much like a grumpy Santa Claus he told someone to go and do something before he noticed them enter his office. He then said ""Why the hell are you children in my office. I swear i need to get new security for this place if children could simply walk in." Ais s he said that Shiba got behind Mana shaking in fear and wanting to avoid the fight. If Mana weren't here he would have made a run for it by now. clearly this Manager has no live for people that will waste his time and as they were young he clearly believed they were nobodies that sneaked their way in here</s>	<\|message\|>Felix Volpe "Ah crud, it's the fuzz! Every man for himself!" Felix darted towards the window, opening it before climbing out. It was fair to say Felix was not particularly in her good graces, especially after blowing up part of the chemistry lab with his and Raph's research. The woman was like a bloody battleaxe. It was only when he was midway out the window that he remembered an important fact. The music room was on the second floor. Too late to abandon his current act, he gripped the side of the window and used it to launch himself towards the drain pipe. He initially missed, leading to a slight bonking of his head, but soon came to his senses and properly grabbed on. Following that, he slid down the pipe to sweet, sweet freedom. As he walked away, he further examined the shard. Return the part to the whole... Cryptic voices in his head again. You know what, fuck it, he has more important things to worry about right now. It probably would be an idea to check it against a mirror, check it is actually part of one. Maybe should let the others tag along, especially that Devin guy. He's not a hardass for rules like Raph.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane As we looked up we all felt different things fear, excitement, rage, sadness, every emotion that could be described as we looked and saw the monster before us. Nobody else could have done what we did. We were the misfits, outcasts, and the forgotten. We were the worlds only hope, what does that tell you about humanity? We are getting ahead of ourselves however, this all started a year ago. It was a brand new semester and while nobody knew it yet they would soon come to know our name and respect it. While those with darkness in their hearts would learn to fear us. I am not writing this for it become some famous book or to be heard across the world. This is so we can say that we lived, we are human. So no matter what the public may think of us I will only tell the true side of the story. This is how it all began... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kage Private High School @World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce The new school year started out like any other, everyone had put on their summer uniforms as they got ready to go the only high school in the area. This place was known as Kage private high. It wasn't known for a lot but it did have a few things that the public refuses to see. The students however knew the truth. A teacher or maybe even another student nobody knows for sure, what they know however is that recently their has been a string of murders in the school. The only reason that it hasn't been swarmed by the police and media was because nobody could identify the crime scene. The only thing people saw was a patch of blood in some random spot with a finger. Said finger always held a ring that is why all the students stopped wearing rings in the hopes of not being targets. They called them "The Death Husband" cases, mainly since the only thing that could be confirmed was that it was always females and it was always on the ring finger. Their have been a few male fingers found but females were always a main target. These cases are soon what will bring this bunch of strangers together no doubt because they too were victims and the idea that others will suffer like them will no doubt spring them into solving this case... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Buraindo Precinct It was another day in the offices of the Buriando Precinct the local police department for the city. It was always a busy day another murder here another thief there. They were always short staffed and got minimal funding because they couldn't solve any of these mystery case. The victims were either never found or were done so well that the clues seemed non existent. The only one that seemed to be able to even get a few cases solves was ironically a child of one of their cops. The girl was arrogant but to the chief he didn't give a rats ass, if she solved cases that their detectives couldn't solve then she could be the queen of England for all he cared. The only reason he didn't hire her off the bat was because he knew she had more freedom when she wasn't tethered to the red tape they had to deal with so she only served in an unofficial capacity. A new case graced her through her father it was the case of the "fried piper" as it was called. This case was about a killer who was burning his victims alive. This was done through grease fire meant for french fries. Of course they analyzed the grease residue but it didn't match any known establishment legal or otherwise. They even tried to follow anyone buying the things necessary to make grease but that was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Clearly if she didn't know what to do then they would need to get help from their reclusive consultant</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe It was the start of a new year, and Felix was slightly apprehensive. Who wouldn't be, while attending a school that is the hunting ground of a serial killer. He'd probably be more terrified if he fit the killer's particular tastes. Though forced to wear the school uniform, he nevertheless refused to wear shoes, preferring his sandals, and swapped his shirt out with his regular green one. Next to him, Raphael walked alongside, similarly flaunting the dress code, but in his case he replaced the jacket with a labcoat. As they moved along, they fell into their regular conversation. "So, you are working part time at the local clinic?" the fox-themed youth asked, shuffling a deck of cards as they walked. "Yeah," his friend replied, "I figure it'll help out with getting a college scholarship... plus more experience is helpful when you get over your head again." Felix blushed slightly, almost dropping the cards from his friends admonishment. "Urgh... it's not entirely my fault..." he replied, "I can't help that trouble likes to follow me like an adorable puppy." "As loathe as I am to say this, mostly because that was a horrible metaphor, but kick the bloody puppy. Especially with all these serial killers hanging around." Finally gathering his cards, Felix took an affronted tone. "You're telling me to kick puppies? How could you, you horrible person." Those casually walking to school could see the hilarious sight of a teen in a lab coat trying to brain his vulpine friend with his bag, as they ran towards school. It was nice for them to have a bit of levity in this dark time.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu He wants to repeat those days forever. The start of something new wasn't always a refreshing beginning. The boy walking to school at the very moment couldn't acknowledge something fresh and new, for that would mean tossing aside the old. He wouldn't acknowledge it, nor could he even accept it. A soulful wound was left when his best friend departed ahead of himself. That's the only reason he was walking all by his lonesome to school. It hasn't been that long, but it wasn't really that recent either. He's lost in his own head about what he should do now. "What can I do?" he muttered to himself. It's obvious what he can do. He only needs to do two things. First, he needs to keep his everyday life whole. Second, he needs to catch the bastard who nearly destroyed it entirely. He has to atone. If he never cracked the inviolable law of his friendship, this probably would've never happened. There's no way to know that for sure, but that's all he can believe. He can only make up for it by doing what Kenji would've done. Destroy the criminal's life. Trap him and force him to self-destruct. He'll do it the way Kenji would've done, if he were to die in his place instead. While he was drowning in those poisonous thoughts, he heard two friends exchange a nice conversation that almost reminds him of the destructive relationship he had with his own friend. " Oh... I just need to reclaim my normal life." Even though he couldn't realize that it vanished alongside his only connection to the world. It's taking almost everything to not regress into a solipsistic stagnation to keep his internal balance in check. With what's left, he's going after the killer no matter what.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce As the new school year started everyone went and headed to their homeroom classes. The young victims of blood eye had the odd fortune to have the same class. Although they of course were placed in different parts of the room. It wasn't long before the first bell rang signaling the start of class. They were soon treated to the sight of their homeroom teacher coming in. She was a young lady Still in her prime as she was in her early 30s but damned if you could get her to say the exact number of years. She wore a business suit with a business skirt and a nice dark blue blouse that matched said skirt. She had long brown hair reaching to her shoulder blades with no ring on her finger though if this was because of the killer or because she simply wasn't married you can't be sure. She then introduced herself as Mujitsu Kazuta (first name Mujitsu) and she passed out the syllabus for what they would expect in the coming year. Once that was passed out she went on explaining their schedules and what they would be doing, as if it were any other school day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hermit and deaths abode As she traveled with her grease samples to find the second consultant to the police. She had to make a trip out to the sticks. She had to take a train to the suburbs near the edge of the city limits. When she got their it was another half our before she found herself at the local doctors office. The local doctor was a doctor that liked to bend the rules if it meant helping the patients but their was only a single patient she couldn't help and he lived upstairs. When she opened the door a blond girl with a white lab coat opened it. She looked to be in her early 20s still very young for being a doctor but then again she lived out where their was hardly a need for a local doctor. She sighed as she saw her come over and said "Another visit for Shiba I take it. You remember the rules your father told you?" she asked since she remembered her first visit to seeing this particular consultant. No loud noise, and don't force your way in unless its to hand him something. Once she was given the rules she walked upstairs with her and told Shiba that he had a business visitor. In moments she heard the sound of him moving to the door. He then slipped a piece of paper under the door Can I help you? the note said --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Charity Center As she soon made her way to the charity office she soon saw that everyone was already busy at work. That was mainly due to the fact that not many people would want to work for a charity organization. She was soon found by her boss as he told her "Hey Angela Thank god your here. Listen we are just swamped organizing an event at a local school but of course we are having trouble getting it set up. Can you head over and act as their temporary counselor? They have people that need someone to talk to" He said being careful not to say that she was going to help victims of missing person cases since that seemed to much for a rookie to handle. However, he had faith she could handle it unlike the rest of them she was still young enough to understand how the teenage mind works and what to say. Most of them were already hitting their 40s of course. He then gave her the address to the private high school she would be heading to before he left to help someone else get the supplies ready for said event.</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix --- As Raph had ended up in a different class, there was no one there to stop Felix's usual shenanigans. Activating a recording device he found in a second hand store, he tuned out the lesson to focus on more important things, at least in his opinion. While the blood eye case was the most important thing to figure out, there was literally nothing to go on. The letter had been a dead end, the only thing they could find was the sender was local, which was obvious. Testing it for poisons had come up with nothing. Inwardly, Felix shuddered, remembering the sessions where him and Raph tried to figure out what chemical concoction could cause the effects. On the upside his chemistry and biology had improved from the insane torture sessions Raphael calls research. Currently he was occupied with defeating Nemesis, his arch enemy in Card Gaming. So far he hadn't met her in person, as he never really cared for IRL competitions, but every time he went online they were always topping the rankings. Raph called him petty for spending obscene amounts of time on trying to beat someone who was obviously a shut-in NEET with too much time on their hands, but it was the principle of the matter. He was currently looking over the notes he took on her past matches, looking for stuff to exploit. Oh, there was also the Ring Killer... but that could wait until maths.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin was almost late for class at the sluggish pace he walked. His neutral face belied his true thoughts. He was considering skipping class to go hunt for the killer, but he believed he should at least go to school for one day. Just to remember why he's doing this. The class was mind-numbingly boring. It was just a female teacher introducing herself and explaining the schedule and what the class will consist of. While he started to yawn, his thoughts retreated to the back of his head. He focused on the memory of his dead friend and tried to pull out any clues he could think of from that scene. Bloody eye. Same thing as some other cases he heard about in this city. No possible way it could've been something external. It had to have been something internal for sure. Drugs? Poison? Kenji wasn't the type of person to use drugs. He smoked cigarettes, but he used nothing else. 'Could it have been external if someone ran an icepick through his eye all the way to his brain?' He attempted to guess at the cause, but all it led him to was the surety of it being internal damage. "Almost like a hemorrhage or a hyphema; however, those shouldn't be fatal," he muttered aloud from an enlightenment. His mind went back to the classroom when he received the syllabus, but he didn't let go of that train of thought. He doesn't know what kinds of poisons or drugs could induce a hemorrhage or hyphema. He doesn't even know if that's actually how the victims died, but that's all he has to go on. The cause could be something even more elementary than that. 'So, I have a guess on the cause, but I don't even have any idea on who the culprit could be. Going outside should serve as a nice matrix for balanced schemes.' He just needs to wait until the school day is over. The Death Husband cases? Not once did those banal crimes even enter the very peripheral of his mind. He ascertained his objective and then fully turned his thoughts towards the class. He let out a content sigh and began to enjoy the remaining sense of jubilation.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s> <\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @Aurrorian@World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce Investigation: Clue finding; final phase AS the group had convened and had gotten to work investigating the room the new counselor/ accomplice went to buy them more time. As she went out of the room to stop the faculty members that came up to investigate the noise as well she was able to stall them for a few more moments. The leader of this group was the vice principle Miss Yoshioka Aki she seemed very straight laced and was a strict teacher at the school. Most students avoid her if at all possible thanks to the cold aura she seemed to have around her. She then said "hmph, the music teacher isn't here. She is still in the faculty office trying to sort out the music for the festival. Now please step aside I know for a fact that students don't practice for the band until the afternoon classes." she told her determined to lead her team of 3 faculty office members. The students were quickly starting to run out time. The best they could do is examine the room a bit more to find any evidence, collect any samples, or investigate the room before the vice principle would barge in and catch them doing something they shouldn't they could either jump out the window and make a run for it to avoid getting into trouble or take a chance to make one final walk through around the room to collect any evidence they could use for later. After all they could simply discuss this at a more appropriate time later ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Within the warehouse Shiba stayed with her through the trip and remained quiet. As they got to the warehouse however they saw it was brimming with the staff. Clearly they had a new shipment come in. Shiba then grabbed a piece of Mana's shirt and followed her like a child would when they got into a store. He stayed close not wanting to be near any of these other people. Clearly Shiba's isolationism is blindly apparent he was having a hard time handling it. They didn't need to take long to find the managers office nearby he was a very heavy set man with a large gut looking much like a grumpy Santa Claus he told someone to go and do something before he noticed them enter his office. He then said ""Why the hell are you children in my office. I swear i need to get new security for this place if children could simply walk in." Ais s he said that Shiba got behind Mana shaking in fear and wanting to avoid the fight. If Mana weren't here he would have made a run for it by now. clearly this Manager has no live for people that will waste his time and as they were young he clearly believed they were nobodies that sneaked their way in here</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe --- "Ah crud, it's the fuzz! Every man for himself!" Felix darted towards the window, opening it before climbing out. It was fair to say Felix was not particularly in her good graces, especially after blowing up part of the chemistry lab with his and Raph's research. The woman was like a bloody battleaxe. It was only when he was midway out the window that he remembered an important fact. The music room was on the second floor. Too late to abandon his current act, he gripped the side of the window and used it to launch himself towards the drain pipe. He initially missed, leading to a slight bonking of his head, but soon came to his senses and properly grabbed on. Following that, he slid down the pipe to sweet, sweet freedom. As he walked away, he further examined the shard. Return the part to the whole... Cryptic voices in his head again. You know what, fuck it, he has more important things to worry about right now. It probably would be an idea to check it against a mirror, check it is actually part of one. Maybe should let the others tag along, especially that Devin guy. He's not a hardass for rules like Raph.</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day Judging from the air surrounding and forcefully emitted from the Vice Principal, she's an authority figure I wouldn't look to actively buddy with as a colleague, or blatantly disregard if I were a student again. I move aside for her to pass not wanting to push my luck, then make my way back to the counseling office. Inwardly, I cringe as the bathroom excuse I give to the other counselor piles up with my other lies given today, and halfheartedly toss a prayer of forgiveness on top of it all. The other counselor at least seems to take me in stride without a hint of incredulity, continuing where we last left off by showing me my temporary office space before letting me settle in. I set up for the brunt of my work expected to begin at lunchtime. Eventually I pass the time idly on my phone. When social media didn't suffice to engross me, I find myself tapping open the notepad app, then randomly away at keys while collecting my thoughts. Why didn't the music teacher go to check on their own classroom themselves? And why was it unlocked, if band practice doesn't happen until afternoon? If I don't get any immediate visitors at the beginning of the lunch period, maybe I'll sneak out again to find that music teacher. Just to ask a few questions. I nod to myself and start typing what would be my case notes. The only evidence I gleaned from spectating the student investigators was the broken glass, and I think I overheard the fox haired one mention a mirror. Beats me why a mirror would be connected to crime, though the shards could be sharp enough to cut something...or someone. I briefly search the web to update my knowledge on Death Husband, and add that context to my notes. But now I return to thinking about connections between the particular students I met. Why them, and in such a hurry, when the scene was easily accessible to any set of prying eyes? The Death Husband case has been open for so long, yet with respect to the other counselor, the school has acted lackadaisically in a drastic situation where equal measures should be taken. Did the police ask them to remain open so they could catch Death Husband in the same place? I think back to their last update on Blood Eye, with no new victims nor leads. Well if everyone's so relaxed about everything, except for those students and I, perhaps... I follow my whim searching for other cases related to Kage Private High. My heart leaps to my throat as the top search result shows the local news coverage of Blood Eye victims, related to some of the students. But I resist clicking the link, I'd avoided looking up who the Blood Eye had also left alive and hurting for their loved ones, not wanting to share the darkness and grief only I could be plunged into all this time. In other news this is turning into one of the longer days in my life.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin watched the redhead leap out the window. It was quite a ridiculous thing to do, granted it was only two stories high. It's doable, yet crazy thing to do at the same time. Kenji might've done the same thing. "No, actually he would've just strolled out the door like he owned the place." A twitching smile symbolizing both fondness and irritation. And just like that, he fell back into somber reminiscence. It's going to be quite the difficult habit for him to break. There's no telling what in of punishment is in store for him if he's found here. "Whatever, I don't even care anymore. I'll just take the punishment." Because that's what normal students do in a normal world. He clicked his tongue and prepared to go over the room one more time just to see if he missed anything critical. The whole room must be searched. While he was giving a thorough second go through the room, he stored the scene in his memory like a photograph. Just enough stuff to ge a general layout in his mind. He then walked out of the room once he was satisfied. Right into the path of someone who would definitely administer punishment. He sighed and prepared for a lashing. 'It had to be her of all people, didn't it.'</s>
<\|description\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana Essentials Alias: Nemesis Gender: Female Age: 18 Birthday: March 14 Written Appearance: Mana stands at 5'6, being taller than most. She has dark brown eyes and grey hair that reaches to her back, but it's almost always messily tied in a ponytail. She also has a slender build, with long thin fingers. Lately, she has been getting bags under her eyes. When she's not at school she usually wears something formal, like a button-up shirt with a black tie, alongside a brown coat and black pants. Personal Personality: Outwardly she's someone who's calm, understanding and a bit aloof. In reality, she tends to think most people are below her and aren't worth giving the time of the day unless they're useful to her at some level. This arrogance also comes up with a tint of vanity, she likes being praised and being relied upon. On the flip side, she's a very sore loser, keeping grudges for a very long time and creating them out of the pettiest reasons. Of course, she tries to keep those negative attitudes from showing up to those she's close to, though her facade does tend to slip up when she's stressed. Likes: Card games Puzzles Dislikes: Nosy people Arcana Representation: Justice Relationships: Kindaichi Kinzo: Her stepfather and local detective. Since he tends to let her look at whatever investigation he's on every once in a while he's Mana's main source of info on the Blood Eye terrorist. Though she isn't planning on sharing any clues she finds. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: None, or rather she's looking for the killer out of revenge for targeting her. Backstory: Mana was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had a good family, was an exemplary student with good grades and she got along well with most of her classmates, but she didn't care about all that. Mana was bored out of her mind, everything was too simple for her liking. Fortunately for her, her stepfather was someone who couldn't stop talking about his line of work, which to Mana was like someone putting a bunch of puzzle pieces in front of her and asking her to solve them. It started with some innocuous comments here and there, like "Have you tried looking into X?" or "Maybe you missed something in the scene of the crime", nothing too detailed, given that Mana didn't have the full picture to add anything more than basic inferences. Still, her stepfather must have noticed her interest since he made her his assistant. In the end, she had reached her last year in high school and while she had helped solve some cases, most if not all of them were pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She wanted something that would put her in the spotlight and the recent blood eye terrorist cases were going to be her golden goose. Though much like she expected she wasn't able to find anything that could give her a heads up over the police:s investigation. If it weren't from the calling card preceding the murders one could think this was just some strange disease. It frustrated her to no end that no matter where she looked or who she asked no one seemed to have a single clue on how the killer made the victims slowly bleed out to death. Many nights after she had begun her little investigation she would find a small card in her bed, which was unmistakenly the killer's calling card. Mana crumpled the card and bit her lip in rage, to the point of bleeding. The culprit had no only taken notice on her but flew right by her nose long enough to find her house and taunted her without a single soul ever noticing. It was humiliating, and she wasn't going to let that phantom get away with it, even if it was the last thing she ever did. There was no time to worry about stopping the illness, as everyone who tried to either by seeking medical help or even trying to escape from the country ended up perishing anyway, and she'd rather use her time to double her efforts to find and take revenge on the culprit. Raguel Description of persona: Raguel means "Friend of God" and is considered to be the angel of justice, fairness, and vengeance. With its main purpose being taking vengeance to those who have broken God's law. Abilities: ♦ Zio ♦ Lunge ♦ Tarunda Strengths: ♦ Resists Holy ♦ Debuffs enemies Weaknesses: ♦ Weak to Psi ♦ Weak to Curse Other Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix --- It says something about Felix's sanity that he immediately ran towards the scream. He didn't really care for detentions, though Raph would probably be pissed with him for that. Judging from the slightly deadened sound of the scream, it had to be in one of the rooms with soundproofing. This was something the boy knew from the Old Man's sexual escapades, sound proofing doesn't stop noise. He internally shuddered at the memory, but put it aside as he headed for the music room. The first one on the scene, he immediately looked around. What was the murderer's obsession with rings? Is the killer an overly dramatic fan of Lord of the Rings? No, if that was the case they'd be hoarding the rings... As he was pacing with his thoughts, he noticed a glimmer of light underneath the piano. What the, why would glass be underneath the piano? From the spread, it seems like it came from the window... which is still in one piece. "So the point of entry was a window, just not the one in this room... or would that be that version of this room?" Felix muttered as he used his shirt to pick up one of the shards and compared it to the window. "But that would imply..."</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day I simply nod at this unprecedented turn of events. Me, finally trusted by Boss to act by myself for work, not only that but to do some counseling? I essentially shadowed my seniors in the previous cases we worked, looking over my shoulder while they did the talking. Now this is no chance to mess up, Angela. Recalling my college courses, I think about how textbook my approach should be, balanced against what my peers had indirectly taught me in the field. Most of the clients we interacted with were adult heads of household however, their children or wards usually away from home like at school. It hits me then that Boss may have assigned me to counsel at a school, because I would be closer in age to the students compared to my coworkers. I clap my face in reassurance as my ride share pulls up, and minutes later I arrive at Kage Private High. I sign in at the administrative office, then a secretary leads me towards the counseling office, where I introduce myself to the sole counselor of the entire school. A bit curious that a private school has little budget for no more than one, and the dark circles under their eyes shows the load they have to carry. But one statement by them unexpectedly clarifies the true pressure they face, "I appreciate the help from you and your organization, Angela. It's...the recent case surrounding this school, the Death Husband. Students just keep coming to me with their fears, and for comfort if their classmate went missing." My heart skips a beat. Of course, I remember now hearing the school name before on the news. My mind instantly flashes to Raven, and I wouldn't be surprised if my own eyes darkened in intensity. But, this isn't Blood Eye, and I can't let my past trauma cloud my exchanges with the inevitable students that arrive for counseling later today. A scream in the distance probably makes everyone in the room break into a sweat. The secretary tells me to wait inside while they confirm the situation, so I do until a flurry of movement later outside, I notice the secretary in the main office across the hall urgently dialing the phone. I use the bathroom excuse to leave the counselor, and after meandering close enough to confirm the call was indeed for emergency services, I hurry off in a vague direction I think the scream came from. I don't ascend to another floor of the large school building in case I get called back, but the closer to the location I get the more I could tell it was somewhere above. I stand unsure of my agency in the hallway, classrooms to either side and definitely opposite the direction of the bathroom, when the bell rings. Immediately, someone with two distinctly spiky hair growths bursts out of a classroom door and sprints for the staircase, followed by three other students trailing them in succession. Considering it broke the usual pattern of the rest of the students filing out of their classes in a steady stream towards their next class, I could draw the nearest conclusion as to what they shared in common with me at the moment. "Raven would've been brave confronting a murderer like that. At least, I think she was with Blood Eye..." I mutter under my breath before moving again with the crowd. The tide directs me towards the stairs so I go with it, catching a glimpse of one of the four earlier students before finally following them under my own volition. I end at an unusually quieter spot on the second floor sparse with students, except for the four grouping around a door down the hall. I slowly approach them and peer through the doorway into what appears to be a music room. "Um, excuse me, are students supposed to be up here?" I ask, before realizing my dumb question.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal 'Already..." Devin thought as not one, but two fellow classmates nagged him about using his phone. With attitude he shoved the small device in his backpack and simply crossed his arms and zoned out while the teacher started to go over what Devin already had read the moment it was handed to him. The monotony of syllabus day was interrupted by a piercing scream that seemed to go beyond echos in the hallway. Having almost fallen into a trance the noise shot him up straight and made the whole classroom go silent. Felix seemed to shoot up and leave while the teacher only pretended to stop him. It took a few seconds but the teacher got the class back in order and seemed to shoot a dagger look at Devin when he motioned to get up. Sitting back down in his desk he let the class drone back on and return to teaching students about what it means to be late or absent from class. After class ended and Devin was released into the hallway he cut left towards his next class, but then took the stairs instead of going to his second period which was on the first floor. While clearly a powerful scream it was also clear it came from above. He didn't need to push his way through the sea of other students as the face he had on told those that saw him that Devin was in a mood. As soon as he was at the second floor he saw that the music room door was cracked open. This was weird considering the music room didn't have classes in it till the afternoon when the part time music teacher was in school grounds. Making his way over and walking into the room he was met with the same thing the others were. Once inside Devin saw that Felix hadn't just ran off to play hooky. 'And yet my phone was such a disturbance' he thought with an eye roll. Walking into the room and seeing the yardstick next to the chalk board he grabbed it and started looking around the room. He took his phone out and started to snap some pictures of the obvious parts of the crime scene which included the finger as the center piece. The glass under the piano and the finger were the most obvious parts there was no liquid found around the glass so it wasn't likely a vase or cup plus no flowers or anything else for that matter seemed out of place. "There any glass in a piano?" Devin asked Felix not being too familiar with the instrument. While he was making his way around the lockers to see if there was anything else, specifically anything made of glass that made sense he heard an adult voice asking if students were supposed to be here. "It is a classroom." Devin said while looking over at the white haired woman. He didn't want to be interrupted and was thankful that Felix had been mostly quiet while they both walked the room mostly independent from each other. "I don't think unaccompanied adults without visitors passes are though." he said with a somewhat dismissive tone. He then returned to the room and, using the yard stick, started opening any lockers that were partly open already.</s>	<\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana slowly entered the room as she inspected the books that at this point could very well act as support beams for this place. The room might be in an even worse state than the last time she visited, much to her disdain, she wasn't sure if the fact that the hoard of books was ordered by subject made the whole thing better or worse. While taking a loot at the room Mana decided to give a quick look at her phone, maybe one of the guys at the station had found something useful for once. Instead, she saw her little rival had sent her a consolatory message. Mana bit her lip as she put her phone back in her pocket, how did he dare to even think of that as a win? She was five moves tops of getting another victory! Thankfully the sound of Shiba's text to speech program brought her back to reality. It was one of the already many weird things he did that she already had gotten accustomed too, at least this way was faster than writing things on paper, and she was somewhat sure that at this point the program's voice spoke faster than his natural voice. "Ocular fluid, huh?" Mana repeated the words as Shiba mentioned them. Of course, even his calling card had to have some eye motif into it, she smiled. The terrorist couldn't resist giving them a small clue, and she was going to latch on to that until she found him. Finally, with some direction in which to take the calling card investigation, Mana stood up "Well then, let's go look for the warehouse today" she said firmly, making it clear that she wasn't asking Shiba if he wanted to go. "We'll go looking at who has access to warehouses with corpses in them, and if there have been any strange incidents."</s>
<\|description\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana Essentials Alias: Nemesis Gender: Female Age: 18 Birthday: March 14 Written Appearance: Mana stands at 5'6, being taller than most. She has dark brown eyes and grey hair that reaches to her back, but it's almost always messily tied in a ponytail. She also has a slender build, with long thin fingers. Lately, she has been getting bags under her eyes. When she's not at school she usually wears something formal, like a button-up shirt with a black tie, alongside a brown coat and black pants. Personal Personality: Outwardly she's someone who's calm, understanding and a bit aloof. In reality, she tends to think most people are below her and aren't worth giving the time of the day unless they're useful to her at some level. This arrogance also comes up with a tint of vanity, she likes being praised and being relied upon. On the flip side, she's a very sore loser, keeping grudges for a very long time and creating them out of the pettiest reasons. Of course, she tries to keep those negative attitudes from showing up to those she's close to, though her facade does tend to slip up when she's stressed. Likes: Card games Puzzles Dislikes: Nosy people Arcana Representation: Justice Relationships: Kindaichi Kinzo: Her stepfather and local detective. Since he tends to let her look at whatever investigation he's on every once in a while he's Mana's main source of info on the Blood Eye terrorist. Though she isn't planning on sharing any clues she finds. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: None, or rather she's looking for the killer out of revenge for targeting her. Backstory: Mana was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had a good family, was an exemplary student with good grades and she got along well with most of her classmates, but she didn't care about all that. Mana was bored out of her mind, everything was too simple for her liking. Fortunately for her, her stepfather was someone who couldn't stop talking about his line of work, which to Mana was like someone putting a bunch of puzzle pieces in front of her and asking her to solve them. It started with some innocuous comments here and there, like "Have you tried looking into X?" or "Maybe you missed something in the scene of the crime", nothing too detailed, given that Mana didn't have the full picture to add anything more than basic inferences. Still, her stepfather must have noticed her interest since he made her his assistant. In the end, she had reached her last year in high school and while she had helped solve some cases, most if not all of them were pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She wanted something that would put her in the spotlight and the recent blood eye terrorist cases were going to be her golden goose. Though much like she expected she wasn't able to find anything that could give her a heads up over the police:s investigation. If it weren't from the calling card preceding the murders one could think this was just some strange disease. It frustrated her to no end that no matter where she looked or who she asked no one seemed to have a single clue on how the killer made the victims slowly bleed out to death. Many nights after she had begun her little investigation she would find a small card in her bed, which was unmistakenly the killer's calling card. Mana crumpled the card and bit her lip in rage, to the point of bleeding. The culprit had no only taken notice on her but flew right by her nose long enough to find her house and taunted her without a single soul ever noticing. It was humiliating, and she wasn't going to let that phantom get away with it, even if it was the last thing she ever did. There was no time to worry about stopping the illness, as everyone who tried to either by seeking medical help or even trying to escape from the country ended up perishing anyway, and she'd rather use her time to double her efforts to find and take revenge on the culprit. Raguel Description of persona: Raguel means "Friend of God" and is considered to be the angel of justice, fairness, and vengeance. With its main purpose being taking vengeance to those who have broken God's law. Abilities: ♦ Zio ♦ Lunge ♦ Tarunda Strengths: ♦ Resists Holy ♦ Debuffs enemies Weaknesses: ♦ Weak to Psi ♦ Weak to Curse Other Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe --- A fragment of a mirror? Now we just need the smoke for this bloody magic act. Okay, lets think about this logically. The music room is on the second floor, and the only exit leads out to the hall. Considering a lack of blood from the dismembered hand of the victim, they somehow exited another way. Why are there mirror shards though... 'The victim screamed' What? Why would that... wait! In the other circumstances there had been no warning of the attempted killing, or possibly kidnapping seeing as there was no body. The victim saw the killer and reacted, meaning these shards were part of something the killer was using to enter and exit. But how could a mirror help someone move a body? 'Mirrors are magical' Well yes, the fact that a surface can perfectly reflect the surroundings was magical to earlier cultures. An obscure myth was that if you stood between two mirrors you'd end up trapped. And of course everyone knows that when you break a mirror it's bad luck, but he always put it down to the fact mirrors were quite expensive in a pre-industrial world. 'Breaking the mask reveals what lies beneath' Okay, maybe he should be taking those anti-psychotics. He just realised he was having a conversation with a voice inside his head. Slipping the mirror shard into his pocket, the voice began to quieten, but it seemed almost desperate. 'Remember... what you... are' Turning around to the person investigating the locker, he walked up to share what he had found so far. Traveler"Find anything about the victim? Considering my time getting here, the killer couldn't have gotten out the main door. I also think the victim managed to fight back against them, these shards probably came from something the killer was holding. Just confused why someone would walk around with a mirror of all things, especially when committing a murder."</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day "Well, I do have a visitor pass..." I reply behind the blue haired boy, shifting the lanyard around my neck with said identification into better view. I pause to take in the scene of students investigating a crime scene: the spiky haired student looking increasingly like a fox examining a glass shard, the blue haired boy cautiously opening lockers with a yardstick, a third student more determinedly opening another set, and a girl standing beside me looking on nervously. I wonder if it's more than a coincidence of curiosity that these four specific students, and I, were drawn to this area due to the novelty of a criminal like the Death Husband, Blood Eye even. Where would the music teacher of this school be anyways, if not watching their own classroom? If I'm to have an amateur interest in detective work as these other students seem to have, there would lie my first suspicion. I hesitantly clear my throat to talk again, as the only adult in the room, "Actually, I'm a part time counselor asked to come help your school, in that office. A...secretary was showing me around, until we heard that scream. She ran back to the office to call police, while I was close enough to find my way here. So, since the police are probably on their way..." I hesitate again. There's a fine line to cross into becoming an authority figure for these students. Except I'm not a teacher or similar person they could possibly respect in the moment, especially with me fibbing. Part of me wants to, but that part seems to think of prodding or even scolding them like younger children in trouble. Another part sees myself no, someone more like Raven in them, with youthful energy not yet tapped by becoming a working adult. I take a breath, then finish my line. "...we should investigate this as efficiently as we can, before they arrive," I'm about to take another step into the music room, when I hear approaching footsteps, "Oh, somebody's already coming." As if by instinct, I turn around and march back down the hallway, hoping to meet whoever it is and stall for time. I figure it would make up for my earlier awkward arrival if I fibbed in favor of the students rather than against. It's going to land me in some trouble with the school staff for being up here in the first place anyways. "Hello, my name's Angela Gong, you can just call me Angela. I'm a part time counselor assigned here by the local Catholic charity, non profit and secular divided of course. More here for career guidance, a bit of financial aid, some basic mental health services including referrals, you know. I was just looking around the school to get to know the place, talk to some students and introduce myself." "Oh uh, I did just come from that end of the hallway and greeted students there, I think they were cleaning up after independent band or choir practice so they didn't need supervision. Which is funny actually, part of the reason I came up here was because I heard the music room was this way, and the school's counselor mentioned wanting to see the music teacher for something. I couldn't find them inside so uh, would you happen to know where the music teacher could be, maybe their office? I'd like to make a good first impression on my colleague, if you could help me."</s> <\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Suigin sighed due to a lack of progress in finding any substantial evidence for this case. It's normal for a normal high school student for him to be an amateur in this field. Not finding any evidence and just sitting still is the normal thing to do. It's too bad that his normality was already disturbed though. He must find something somewhere else to put an end to this case. To protect his bastions of the sacred everyday, he will find the culprit. Even if he's a normal person, his craving won't allow for anything else. Still though... "Wait, hold on a second," he said to himself. He wonders if these cleaning supplies really haven't been used before. Just by eyesight alone he knows that they've been gathering dust, proving that they shouldn't have been used recently. There's a small chance that it could've been faked so he went and touched all the instruments himself. He contemplated the details of the case after finishing. "Just where am I going to find anything else?" He most likely won't be able to solve this on his own. 'No choice but to rely on other's information,' he thought to himself. He sighed as he realized this could've been solved easily if he teamed up with Kenji. He shook his head out of those thoughts again. He needs to focus on the right thing now. Death Husband first, Blood Eye second. There's a saying to save the most important for last, so he might as well do that. He needs to convince himself that this is something important if he's going to devote a sufficient amount of effort towards it. He noticed the older woman's scheme. He's actually quite thankful towards her. He should find a way to pay her back. He walked towards the other two students in the room that were investigating. 'The broken glass, the finger, the missing person, the scream, the piano, the location, the lockers.' Pymeroce @World Traveler "What did you two find? It could be anything at all, just tell me. We should also probably share theories while we're at it." He's going to use them to further his understanding of the case.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s>	<\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s>
<\|description\|>Lizbeth Rowe Age: 20 Gender: Female Hometown: Ballonlea, Galar Appearance: Standing at 5'9", Lizbeth is a bit on the skinny side, but is still strong enough to do day to day things. Her hair is firey red in color and goes down to about chest length, and her skin is light tan due to her parents being so as well. She has green eyes, but she likes to wear red contact lenses because "she thinks they're cool", and while she's not much for makeup, she does like to put on her favorite green lipstick and cat-eye extensions. As she needs glasses, being near sighted, she chose to wear pink ones, as it is her favorite color. On her head she wears her black knit beret with a white circle and a white line through said circle, which has a little white pompom on top of it. She wears a top that is black with pink stripes here and there, with a pink Y that lies on its side. The Y appears to have a mouth with sharp teeth in the top part of it, and has a wide, white outline. Over her top she wears a black leather jacket she usually keeps open, complemented by her black studded leather skirt, and over said skirt is a belt in which she will keep her Pokéballs attached to. The leggings she wears are black with what appear to be pink splotches all over them, and her shoes and the small glove like thing she wears on her right hand are the same. On her back is the black and pink sport rucksack that she keeps all her things in. Personality: Shy and a little reserved, Lizbeth has always been a kind girl, ready to help her family out when they ask her to. But as such, she doesn't have much interactions with other people outside of whenever she may have needed to buy something, so it takes a little bit to get to know her. Despite that, she's determined to overcome her shyness in pursuit of her Kanto exploration. Profession: Lizbeth is willing to become a Trainer in order to pursue her exploration and photography goals. Talents: Lizbeth has a mean photography skill. Or so she'd like to think, anyway. With her Rotom phone being able to fly around, she simply has to tell it to take a picture once she sees a nice photography spot. Inventory: As part of her preparations, Lizbeth has in her rucksack: - 10 Dusk Balls, a gift from one pair of her grandparents (also came with a complementary Premier Ball). - 5 Potions, from her other pair of grandparents. - 2 of each status healing potion, another gift from her parents aside from the allowance they gave her, which is stored on a card linked to her bank account. - A wallet with said card in it. Typically worn in an inner pocket of her jacket along with her Rotom phone in another inner pocket. The wallet is also able to hold eight badges on the outside of it, four on one side, four on the other. Aside from the card, the wallet also holds her ID and the trainer cards she got of the Fairy and Dark Gym leaders of Galar, Bede and Marnie. - A pair of pajamas, a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a sleeping bag and small tent which are usually kept fastened underneath her rucksack. Gotta be ready for the nightfall. - Some clothes for changing into, though they don't vary too much from her usual outfit. - The bare minimum makeup she likes to use. Starter Pokemon: Impidimp, nicknamed Ace, or Menace depending on his behavior, because he's been known to be a menace from time to time, being the little prankster he is, but most of the time, he does actually like to help Lizbeth out, and in her own words, is real ace at it. Biography: Born as the first and only child of Jacob and Isabella, Lizbeth actually saw little of her parents due to their work. Jacob was a receptionist at the Wyndon league, which meant he was away from home a lot due to the amount of challengers arriving there, and Isabella was a flight attendant, travelling a lot as she served customers on the flights. Despite this, when they were at home, they always made sure to spend their time with Lizbeth well. Lizbeth typically spent time with either of her grandparents, who didn't actually dote on her too much, only just enough. They were understanding of Jacob and Isabella's work, and were happy enough to spend more time with their grandchild. As a result, Lizbeth grew up to be a girl who never asked for much. After all, all she wanted was to just spend time with her parents when they came home, and while she was always sad to see them off, she always welcomed them back home with a smile. Her grandparents often let her wander around Glimwood Tangle just outside of Ballonlea, and as such, she had a fondness for the many Fairy and Psychic type Pokémon around and about. The Pokémon there were her friends, and she would play with them from dawn till dusk, taking breaks occasionally to go back home to her grandparents for a snack. One day, a curious little Impidimp decided to follow her home, and as much as she was surprised by it, she immediately went to her grandparents to ask if she could keep it. The little one wasn't very happy with that, and ran away. This left Lizbeth in tears, but still the day after, she went out into the woods to play as usual. There was a small giggle that followed her here and there, which made her a bit nervous, but she knew that if it came to it, the wild Pokémon would help her. Jumping out of a nearby bush, it was the same Impidimp that had followed her home. It felt a bit bad about making her cry, and had been working up the courage to confront her again, hence why it hadn't come out earlier. She was happy to see it again, and they played together ever since. Spending the years together, Lizbeth had given the little Impidimp the nickname Ace, due to his mischievous behaviour, along with his ace helping around whenever Lizbeth needed work done, such as cleaning or being sent on an errand. They were practically inseparable. At some point, the time for her to take the Gym Challenge came around, but she actually had little interest in taking part in it. With her parents away during that time, her grandparents decided to let her choose not to take part in it, and so she continued growing up, watching others take part in the challenge, and watching the matches on the telly whenever she wasn't in the woods, though the wandering into them kept happening less often as she grew older. With her teenage life almost over, she actually asked her parents on a day when they were both home, and would be for another day or two, whether they would take her and Ace for a little trip to another city. She'd grown up in just Ballonlea, and while it was her home, she also was starting to feel like wanting to see more of the world. And seeing more of the Galar region, with her own eyes, was the start of it. Jacob and Isabella made it a habit to check out different cities when they were both home, together with Lizbeth and Ace, from the humble Stow-on-Side, to the majestic Hammerlocke, and even far off into Wedgehurst. To remember each and every one of those places, Lizbeth had managed to save up money from her chores when she was younger for a new Rotom phone, and loved taking pictures of every noteworthy sight in each city and town. This would eventually lead to her starting her 20's with finding online on her phone about a league challenge in the far off Kanto region. Having not taken part in her own region's challenge, she felt this would both be a good opportunity to experience something new, as well as seeing a new region on her own. Making plans with her parents, they booked a flight, which would have Isabella working on it, and packed down whatever she would need on her trip. Her parents gave her a bit of allowance to help her starting out in a new region, and thus she headed off for the Indigo League challenge. Notes/Other: Lizbeth's color is called Medium Violet Red, which is a weird sounding color to me, but it works as the color I need. And Ace's color is called Lime Green. As for favorite Pokémon game, Platinum has been my top one for a long time, but then Sword and Shield came out and tied with it.</s> <\|message\|>Hana Tatsuyama "Are we... all going the same way? Uhh... Hana? Right?" "If we are all here for the Indigo League, and our first challenge is north of Viridian, then I would say we are all going the same way, yes," Hana answered. "And yes, Ezra, my full name was interrupted. I am Hana Tatsuyama, of the Sengun region's Kingdom of Platinos." It was the exact same choice of words she had given earlier, but it was the best way to ensure everyone was on a level playing field in terms of introductions. As before, she sketched a short bow, though this was aimed at no-one in particular due to the larger group. Hana imagined if everyone sketched bows or conducted handshakes all at once, they would be standing outside the Laboratory for longer than some of them would like. "Sengun... really?" It was a region that was rarely discussed. Naturally the name caught his attention. "I got family out there! An aunt and uncle (well, great aunt and uncle) in Mystriver Isle!" He said, trying his hardest to keep his voice and tone regulated. "They own a dojo out there. Last we talked to them, they were planning on passing ownership down to their son." He nodded and crossed his arms. "You have family in Mystriver? How curious. I haven't been out that way myself, but that Kingdom is one of the most popular among travellers and folks who wish to move to a new region, as I recall." Hana paused a moment, thinking this over. Extended family likely meant that one of them had moved to Sengun at some point in their life and settled down there. Ownership of a Dojo - presumably the most well-known in the Kingdom's borders, if Ezra was aware of the details - likely meant that that part of his family line had inherited some Warrior traits, or would do so at some point in the family tree. She didn't give voice to any of this immediately, however, knowing that it would likely overwhelm her new acquaintance with information. That was just bad form. "It seems my day is full of surprises," she eventually noted aloud.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi As Gary explosively left the room, Fary felt a small pang of pity for the gym leader. She had never met him herself, but she had heard of his talents as a gym leader and understood slightly as to why he was so volatile to the shenanigans that had transpired. The elder Oak was clearly not mentally sound by any stretch of the imagination and this was obviously not the first time this kind of thing happened. However, Professor Oak wasn't fit to be left on his own and Gary seemed to be just as happy to keep him here on his own without any assistance or supervision. Fary took her Pokedex silently, turning it over in her hands; it reminded her of a cell phone with it's huge touch screen and camera on the back. Fary pointed the camera at Emily and snapped a picture after she finished setting it up, and fiddled with a few of the settings, such as turning up the brightness of the screen. #570 Zorua ♀ Tricky Fox Pokémon Height: 2'04" / 0.7 m Weight: 27.6 lbs / 12.5 kg Ability: Illusion - Comes out disguised as the Pokémon in the party's last spot. Moves: Scratch / Leer / Pursuit / Dark Pulse If a normally talkative child suddenly stops talking, it may have been replaced by Zorua. "So, you're a trouble maker Emily, even the Pokedex agrees." Fary smirked and laughed as Emily huffed, standing up a bit stiffer at her trainer's jab and flicked her tail again on the back of the head, this time jostling Fary's ponytail. Fary already knew a vast majority of the information the Pokedex gave her on Emily, but it was nice to have a record for it. "Zo zorua, zo zorua rua." Hey, I can't help what's in my nature." Emily sniffed at the screen that showed a picture of her and Fary give her a stiff pat on the head, an awkward feeling washing over the pair as Fary was still feeling weird about starting her Pokemon trainer journey so late in life from when she was supposed to leave. Emily just laid down on her trainer's shoulders, ignoring the stiffness for now. Fary elected to not join in the current conversation regarding them going as a group, she had kind of assumed that would be the case anyway. Instead, Fary elected to silently walk back outside, some old feelings creeping back into her head as the reality of her starting her journey starting to sink in, her Pokedex still in her hand. She slipped it into the back pocket of her shorts. Fary started to drift into her own thoughts, "I should have done this ages ago with Sarah in Unova... Emily isn't a bad Pokemon, she... she's just not my Sarah." She took a seat at a bench outside and removed her pack from her shoulders. Opening the dark leather pack, she pulled out her sketch pad and started back on a drawing she had been working on for a few days, silently working away as Emily watched.</s>	<\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Are they only available in Galar? Would probably be killer on import costs…" As Ezra asked her, Lizbeth thought about whether they actually were only available in Galar. She'd never really thought about it. But she could do one thing for him. "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." She wasn't sure if her Mum could bring one with her and send to her daughter, let alone when that would even be due to the flights she was on, but asking was possible. When they moved out, Ezra and one of the other women she hadn't introduced herself to, Hana seemed to be her name, talked about moving as a group. "Oh, that would be quite lovely. Ah, excuse my manners. My name is Lizbeth Rowe, as you no doubt heard from Gary. I come from Galar myself." It was starting to sound like most or all of them came from different regions than Kanto. Though she had so far only heard Hana and Fary mention their regions, she was curious whether Ezra and the other woman also came from somewhere else. Lizbeth noticed that Fary had withdrawn herself, and although they were still strangers for the most part, she felt it wouldn't be right to just leave her alone, so she went over to her. "Excuse me." she said before sitting down beside her. Her Rotom phone had just finished scanning the Pokémon from the other people in their little group, so it retreated back into Lizbeth's pocket. "I like your drawing. Looks quite well drawn." she said to Fary with a soft smile. Ace nodded as she said that to show his agreement with her.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe As Lizbeth walked towards the lab, she noticed a man walking alongside her, carrying a strange Pokémon by him. Well, perhaps strange wasn't the right word, but it was a Pokémon she herself had never seen. It was quite "adorable..." She clasped her mouth quickly, having realized she just said that out loud, though only in a kind of hushed voice. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Maybe she could just keep walking and he wouldn't turn towards her. Maybe he thought she was weird for just saying something like that randomly. Maybemaybemaybemaybemaybemaybemaybe... As those thoughts filled her head, she began to blush until her face was bright red under her tan skin. Ace was familiar with this behaviour from her, and so he urged her to continue walking by tugging at her jacket collar and pointing towards the lab. She nodded, her head a little clearer, but her face still a beat red, and walked faster than the man did. But her walking speed made her body rock up and down a bit more than usual, and so her wallet accidentally fell out of her pocket. Lisbeth gasped. "Oh no!" What the wallet contained wasn't much, and at least her card hadn't fallen out, but her two trainer cards were standing out of it now. She scrambled to pick it back up and put the two cards away again, and she didn't bring herself to look back at the man to see if he had noticed them.</s> <\|message\|>Hana Tatsuyama "Satomi! Don't go too far ahead!" Having found the main road to the Oak Research Lab, Hana and Satomi had begun the uphill trek to the front doors. Being both lighter in weight and not having to carry a backpack and suitcase, the little Pokémon had simply dashed ahead as if she were in a race with Hana. She paused about twenty feet ahead of her Trainer at regular intervals, then sped uphill again as Hana got closer. But eventually Satomi ran out of road to travel, and Hana caught up with her at the top of the hill. "You're a little rascal sometimes, you know that?" Hana crouched down and lightly scratched the underside of Satomi's helmet-shaped head with one fingernail. It was a ticklish spot that she'd discovered early on in caring for Satomi when she was still super young. Even Steel-type Pokémon could be ticklish, and Satomi wriggled away, half-squeaking and half-laughing as she did so. "At any rate, we're here. But I think we might need to wait for more Trainers to arrive for registration." It'll be easier to speak with the Professor as part of a group, was the part she left unsaid. There were some wooden benches outside the Lab, looking down at the rest of Pallet Town, and Hana took a seat, setting her suitcase and backpack down as she did so. From the former, she dug out a half-finished case of Pokémon food and set a cube of it down on the grass. Satomi instantly rushed over. But Hana raised a finger. "Not so fast. You can have half now, and half when we start on the road out of town. Okay?" Satomi raised one bladed arm and obligingly cut the cube down the middle, taking one piece for herself. As she returned the other half to the case and put the food away, Hana sat back on the bench and did her best to relax after the effort of the walk.</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly "Adorable…" Ezra was too encompassed in his phone to notice the murmurs of the girl glancing in his direction, but Brie certainly caught the claim. "Osha osh-osh, wott." I think she just called you cute, Eazy. Brie replied, tugging on the boy's hood to acquire his attention. The young Oshawott almost recoiled at the sight of the weird pink imp trying to get its trainer under control. "Huh? What's up, Brie?" As he looked up from his smart device, the girl from the airport went red in the face in an attempt to get away from him. He hadn't even realized she was so close until just now. "Is she-?" His personal trainer mode was taking over. Considering the two seemed to have arrived from the airport at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if she was feeling some extreme case of jet lag. "She could be overexerting herself. Not good for the body in the long run." Instinctively, Ezra slowed his gait as she sped up, to better assess the situation. "Oh no!" Then she dropped her wallet in her attempts to speed walk. On reflex, Ezra practically jumped at the chance to help, but she was in better control of the situation than he anticipated. "What's that accent? Is she from-?" As he thought, he caught a quick glance at the contents spilling out of her wallet. Looked like a pair of cards. One had a black-haired girl with a cool side cut that racked the boy's brain. "Swear I've seen that one somewhere before. Online, I think? Or on a magazine or something…" Quite quickly, the girl recovered from her spill and carried on. Ezra and Brie both raised curious eyebrows at the scene. "Oshawott?" She's a weird one, huh? Brie muttered. Seemed she had no problem traveling along the incline the path was quickly turning into. As Ezra looked on, He noticed they both were heading towards the Professor's lab. "Guess I'll ask about her condition when we reach the top of this hill." He continued up the paved road, sure to stay a couple of paces behind the girl. If she got too tired to go any further, he'd figure the least he could do was offer his help.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi "Oh no!" Fary heard a small commotion ahead of her and rushed forward to see what was going on. She saw a redhead knelt over, scrambling to pick up her wallet with a Pokemon she didn't recognize. She looked flustered, and Fary wanted to make sure she was ok, so she hurried to walk up to the girl. "Hey, are you ok? You seem a bit flustered and I wanted to see if you needed any help." Fary smiled softly, offering the woman a hand up after she picked up her wallet. Emily perked up on Fary's shoulders to investigate the strange pink thing, sniffing the air. "Zoooor ruru zorua? Ruuu zoruuua zoruuaaa?" What are you? Fary do you know what this is? Emily turned her head to the side yipping slightly. "Seems my Zorua Emily is interested in your Pokemon. I have to admit, I've never seen that Pokemon before so I'm a bit curious as well. My name is Fary Nitashi, I'm from Unova, but I currently live here in Kanto in Fuschia City. It's nice to meet you." Fary scrached Emily behand the ears as she yipped at the woman's Pokemon, wanting to great it.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Hey, are you ok? You seem a bit flustered and I wanted to see if you needed any help." Lizbeth was startled by the sudden appearance of a woman appearing next to her. Probably more startled than she should have been due to how she'd been in her own head just a moment ago. The woman offered her hand, and kind of without thinking, Lizbeth took it. She was super embarrassed that she had to be helped just due to a slip of the tongue, and was still a bit red in the face. She simply nodded her head about being okay before the Pokémon on the woman's shoulder started sniffing at Ace. "Impdimp! Imp!" Hey, hey! Nose where I can see it! He wasn't too fond of another Pokémon sniffing at him, but it reminded him of the Vulpix he'd seen before when trainers had gone through Glimwood Tangle. He knew it was just curious about him like they had been, but he wasn't gonna let it have its way, and climbed under Lizbeth's beret, peeking at the other Pokémon from under it. "Seems my Zorua Emily is interested in your Pokemon. I have to admit, I've never seen that Pokemon before so I'm a bit curious as well. My name is Fary Nitashi, I'm from Unova, but I currently live here in Kanto in Fuschia City. It's nice to meet you." Lizbeth was surprised at how much the woman mentioned about herself right away. She would never have been able to say all that on first contact with someone else. She let go of Fary's hand to pet the beret with Ace under it to calm him down. "N-nice to meet you too. I'm Lizbeth Rowe, a-and I'm from Galar." A bit nervous to speak to someone new, she had a small tendancy to stutter two or three words while getting used to them. "My P-Pokémon here is Ace, an Impidimp. Don't mind him h-hiding under there, he's kinda s-shy as well around new Pokémon." She pointed with her non-petting hand when mentioning the little goblin hiding under her beret. "I've n-never seen a Zorua b-before. She's...adorable..." The last word kinda trailed off as she said it since she realised she just said it again to another Pokémon, but it should have been still audible enough for Fary to pick up. As she started walking again towards the lab, she wanted to get to know this new stranger a little more. "I don't mean to p-presume, but are you taking the L-League challenge? I kind o-of am, but I'm mostly interested in...photography..." Her Rotom phone popped out of her pocket to show itself, placing itself in her hands and displayed her gallery of Kanto pictures from the little time she'd already spent there.</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Ezra looked on as the scene he thought ended continued to play out in front of him. The clumsy redhead was approached by another girl, one that was ahead of them both. Once he realized the road was more active than he thought, he figured he should've opened his eyes just a little more. The blue-haired girl seemed pretty eager to help the red-haired girl, and just couldn't help but air out her whole life's story in the process. Ezra had no problem hearing Fary Nitashi (the name she called herself), but the other girl was fairly soft-spoken in comparison. The exclamation the redhead made earlier was a noticeable difference next to what Ezra could only assume was her natural speaking voice. All the while, Fary's helpful incentive left the boy with a tinge of guilt in the process. She reminded him of his usual attitude, how he would've been if he was home or working at his fitness studio. He thought he was being courteous and respectful by keeping his distance. But, what if he wasn't? Maybe he should've acted first? What if she was really hurt? Would he have just stood by and watched? For a flash of a second, some of his darker thoughts broke to the front of his mind. He wondered if coming out to Kanto was a good idea. He stared into his phone as he tried shaking away the negativity. Brie, on the other hand, found herself overtaken with curiosity. As Ezra slowed down, the Oshawott sped up, jumping down from his duffel bag to get a closer look at the unique Pokémon on display. The pink goblin disappeared underneath the redhead's hat, but the little black beast on Fary's shoulder was out in full display. Brie got as close as she could to the two girls, practically jumping on Fary's heels as she waved down her Pokémon. "Osha osh-a! Oshawott!" Whoa, you're a Zorua! Haven't one of you guys in a long while! She exclaimed, surprised to see another Unova-native pokemon in this strange new land. Ezra perked up in a bit of a panic as he heard Brie's cries in the distance. Looked like she was trying to introduce herself. "Wuh-oh." He mumbled some before starting in a light trot to close the distance between them.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Are they only available in Galar? Would probably be killer on import costs…" As Ezra asked her, Lizbeth thought about whether they actually were only available in Galar. She'd never really thought about it. But she could do one thing for him. "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." She wasn't sure if her Mum could bring one with her and send to her daughter, let alone when that would even be due to the flights she was on, but asking was possible. When they moved out, Ezra and one of the other women she hadn't introduced herself to, Hana seemed to be her name, talked about moving as a group. "Oh, that would be quite lovely. Ah, excuse my manners. My name is Lizbeth Rowe, as you no doubt heard from Gary. I come from Galar myself." It was starting to sound like most or all of them came from different regions than Kanto. Though she had so far only heard Hana and Fary mention their regions, she was curious whether Ezra and the other woman also came from somewhere else. Lizbeth noticed that Fary had withdrawn herself, and although they were still strangers for the most part, she felt it wouldn't be right to just leave her alone, so she went over to her. "Excuse me." she said before sitting down beside her. Her Rotom phone had just finished scanning the Pokémon from the other people in their little group, so it retreated back into Lizbeth's pocket. "I like your drawing. Looks quite well drawn." she said to Fary with a soft smile. Ace nodded as she said that to show his agreement with her.</s> <\|message\|>Karen Anne Rose, aka Lilith, Mistress of Lost Souls Kanto was proving to be something of a disappointment so far. Between the supposedly most learned man in the land proving that things as complex as his family member's names and basic etiquette were elusive in his advanced age, and the toughest gym leader proving to be as insecure as a 16-year-old birthday girl with a zit on her face, it was frankly comical. Still, Lilith got what she came for. She got a Pokedex, she got an official start on the Indigo League journey and she got proof that Unova is much better than this Arceus-forsaken land. There was still a master thesis to be completed, but still, the ego boost from the events so far outweighed a potential reveal of her dreaded birth name. While the other trainers who had assembled were chatting, Lilith turned to her partner. The little candle Pokemon was still calm as ever, smiling on her shoulder as if it didn't witness that utter shitshow inside the laboratory. "Hold still for a sec, Sia." "Litwick?" But why? #607: Litwick ♀ Candle Pokémon Height: 1'00" / 0.3 m Weight: 6.8 lbs / 3.1 kg Ability: Flame Body - If a Pokemon makes contact with Litwick, there is a chance that the attacker could end up with a burn. Moves: Astonish / Smog / Ember / Haze Level 5 At first glance, Litwick appears to be a helpful Pokemon illuminating pathways through the darkness. However, it is only leading travellers astray to be able to leech off their life force to fuel its flame. "Huh... Lilith looked back up at Sia. "Is that what you've been doing all this time? Just tricking me so you can suck the life force out? "Lit! Lit! Litwicklitlit..." No! No! I mean, it's a nice perk, but... "Look, I'm happy to keep you fed with all the life force I got. Just don't lie to me, OK? "Litwicklit!" I never would! "OK then..." "That certainly just happened to all of us. I suppose our next move is to travel north, then? Perhaps as a group?" Hana wanted to get out of town, and that sounded like a great idea to Lilith's ears. "The spirits seemed to have aligned us that way. We might as well." The Unovan looked around. There wasn't much to look around at, and it was pretty easy to spot a path that would lead out of this quaint little town. Lilith couldn't wait to leave it behind. "This way. You lot can keep yapping as we move. With a place as small as Pallet Town, it wasn't long before the path opened up to an grassy plain. There were sure to be Pokemon in the area. Pidgey Rattata Sentret Zigzagoon Poochyena Wingull (No Hoothoot, as it is day time.)</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." "Oh, uh...word?" There was a bit of jest to Ezra's quip about the phone, so Lizbeth's sincere reply kinda caught him off guard. Didn't stop his curiosity from getting the best of him, however. "Yeah, okay, sure!" He replied again, giving a grin before watching the girl approach Fary. Looked like the blue-haired girl found herself in a cloud of melancholy. But the sun was out, and the day was nice. Ezra himself knew the detriment of keeping his head in those dark, metaphorical clouds. He was almost a step behind Lizbeth, almost ready to provide some support alongside the punky trainer. But the thought of the weather sidetracked him some. The sun, indeed, was out. And being adorned in a sea of sweat clothes would prove to be a detriment, especially for the road ahead. Even now, he could feel the heat inside himself build, and soon he was gonna be drenched in perspiration and blinded by his big ol' shaggy mane. "Hop down for a sec, Brie." He muttered, helping the Oshawott to the ground before removing his duffel bag. He stood back up and quickly cast off the hot clothes, pulling the large hoodie up and over his head. Goofy as ever, he was briefly lost in the article as he struggled to get his head out. But once that was done, he placed it in his bag before pulling on his sweatpants. Tearaway pants, naturally, that made their removal all the more convenient. The warm outerwear made way for what lied underneath: a fitted compression tank, dark shorts, and grey leggings. "Ah, much better. Shoulda did that from the get-go." He stretched his arms and legs and chuckled and took on the cool wind that moved through the area. Brie was willing to assist her trainer, digging through a smaller pocket on the duffel and finding a frilly lilac hairband. "Oshaa oshaaaa." You always look like you're ready to run. She mentioned, reaching up to the boy. Noticing, Ezra reached down to the young otter. "Thanks, Brie-wait. This is one of Ezzie's hair ties. How'd this get in my stuff?" With a shrug, he used the band to keep his hair in a ponytail. "Uh, random question: Are any of us from Kanto? I mean, I'm from Alola. I'd be lying if I said I knew my way around..." He asked the air, getting his pack comfortable on his back. The road looked to be a no-brainer, as it looked like a natural path out of the small town. Couldn't say the same for anything beyond that. The goth girl was clearly ready to get the show on the road and was the most gung-ho on proceeding down the path. The Litwick she conversed with caught his attention. "You're from Unova, right? It's the only place I've seen Litwicks. I mean unless you got her through a trade..." Before he knew it, he found himself approaching her, just to ensure he was addressing her specifically. It was impolite to point, after all.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Vivian Eli Aurora Vivian was, surprise surprise, not paying attention. The Pokedex was an interesting piece of tech to be sure, though apparently when a Pokemon is trying to get a chip bag off it's face, the camera can't recognize what kind of Pokemon it is. Vivian tucked the device into a pocket on her bag, steadying the egg hanging in it's cradle with one hand, and reaching out to try and catch the now panicked Pokemon waddling it's way through the group of trainers until it tripped over itself in front of a trainer and their fox-like Pokemon. "Bud-Budew.... Budew" I guess nobody noticed the plant with no arms needed help... yea? Vivian couldn't help but chuckle as she knelt down to suddenly rip the bag off Curry's head and stuff the trash in a pocket that rustled and crinkled, as if to say that this is an embarrassingly common occurrence. "If you could stop embarrassing me in front of all the cool, exotic trainers and their Pokemon? That would be greaaat." She quickly prevented rebuttal by tapping the shining black and red Pokeball that hung from her waist like a key-chain. Vivian looked up, seemingly just noticing how close she was to the other trainer. "O-oh, hey... sorry for bothering you I'm Vivian, the chubby plant down there is Curry." Her eyes lit up as she noticed the sleek black fur and red accents of the new Pokemon next to their trainer who seemed busy in a sketchbook. Her voice faltered, as if she was about to cry. "Who are they, and what business do they have being that cute?" Curry rolled their eyes as they waddled up, trying to stand up straight as if it would make them seem larger. Budew, bud bud."Never seen something like you before..... And yet, somehow, impossibly, the smell of oversalted fried chips somehow made it even more difficult for Curry to seem intimidating. Vivian continued as she reached into her bag, mumbling something about healthier treats as she geeked out. "I've never seen a Pokemon like yours, nobody ever had one at my Grandmother's daycare in Hoenn.... oh here we go!" A sudden change from the chips and sweets, Vivian pulled a slim package of cookies from the pocket on her bag. The package held tight against the contents, vacuum sealed to keep them fresh. Opening the package she smiled as she offered the trainer and their Pokemon, Curry now very agitated at the sight as they waited for the admittedly inevitable point that Vivian would hand them one. "Lava Cookies, from my hometown. My grandmother is convinced they have some kind of healing properties, but I think that's a bit of Old People logic, trying to get me to eat better. These are made by my grandmother so they might be a bit sweeter than a regular Lava Cookie but I swear they actually are good for you." PANIC Why? We lack situational awareness that's why. Again? Vivian went pale as she realized just how hard she tunnel visioned on the new Pokemon. She turned to the other trainer who had been there, a taller girl with red hair who was followed by what she could only describe as a gremlin. "Oh Arceus, I'm sorry about that.... I guess the introduction applies to you guys too, only fair right?" Vivian shrugged, this was not the first, and it would not be the last time that a cute Pokemon had prevented her from noticing her surroundings. IT seemed they weren't moving just yet, so Vivian sat down in front of the two, moving the blue speckled egg to rest in the space between her criss-crossed legs. She held the egg tight, some primal thought in the very back of her mind telling her to keep it close, and safe.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi Fary was snapped out of her focused daze by the presence of Lizbeth and let out a small yelp of shock due to being startled."Oh, umm thank you. It's one of my favorite places from back home, it's the Rondez-View Ferris Wheel in Nimbasa City. I used to ride it quite a bit when I was younger." Fary forced a smile, not wanting to bring down the mood of their excitement. "Uh, random question: Are any of us from Kanto? Fary cleared her throat and answered Ezra. "I may not be from Kanto, but I do know the region really well. I can help guide us around if that's what you're worried about. All we have to do is head north to route one and then to Viridian City." Not soon after, another trainer came her way. She didn't get a chance to catch her name before, so it was a bit nice to be able to meet her now. It didn't take Fary long to notice the egg she was carrying, and she became curious, but that could wait."I'm Fary, and this here is my zorua Emily. You have a cute Budew with you, Curry seems to be a bit of a handful. I seem to recall a chip bag over their head a bit ago." Fary laughed softly giving Emily a pat This whole time, Emily had fallen asleep next to Fary, but was jostled awake by all of the noise that had decided to join them. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted to the sigh of some green thing that smelled of fried oil and heart attacks. "Zo.. zoruaaaa? Zora, zorua. Zoru zorua, zor zorua zorzor zorua. Rua zoruu zorrua?" What is that smell? Oh, it's you. I'm Emily, a zorua from the Unova region. What are you? Emily seemed to perk up a bit when Fary put a hand on her, her pet must more relaxed this time around. "I think I've only had one lava cookie and it was the time I went with my mom to a Pokémon Contest in Verdanturf Town. This looks great, thank you Vivian." Fary broke off some for Emily. "Here ya go, Emily, enjoy." Emily gave the cookie a sniff and looked up at her unsure if she should eat it. Fary smiled softly, petting Emily again and took a bite of her part of the cookie. After thinking for a moment, Emily ate her portion of the cookie and found that she enjoyed it, and the look on Fary's face seemed to indicate she liked it as well. "Oh wow, these are good. I just had a prepackages lava cookie all those years ago. This is so much better."</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly While her trainer conversed with the other humans, Brie concocted different agendas. Much like Ezra, the young otter didn't handle hunger very well. But unlike Ezra, she posed no politeness when it came down to the subject. Either she had food, or someone would have to answer to her scalchop. So while her trainer distracted himself with the alluring qualities of the fairer sex, she sprung into action. She scaled the tall boy, reaching and rummaging through his duffel bag for treasure. Standing frim like a tall tree, Ezra barely seemed to notice. Shoveling through his things, Brie hit pay dirt: one of his packets of jerky laid untouched. She opted to just relax in his bag and enjoy her bounty, but instead something outside captured her attention. A sound of a package being opened, followed by a sweet scent of what could only be assumed to be baked goods. Jerky in tow, Brie sprung out of Ezra's bag to track the scent. What she found on approach was the blonde from earlier, offering up a pack of unique looking cookies. "Oshhaa!" Well, don't mind if I do! If the girl was offering, who was she to say no? Shoving past the green, armless, pudgy flower bulb, Brie helped herself to Vivian's cookies, picking out one of the confectionaries with a flipper while holding her jerky in another. "Osha oshaa wott!" Mmm, something sweet to go with my savory! With nary a motion of thanks or recognition, the pushy Oshawott felt comfortable plopping down right there amidst those trainers and their pokemon, so she could properly enjoy her meal.</s>
<\|description\|>Height \| Weight \| Age Race \| Birthsign MAJOR ATTRIBUTE \| minor attribute Birthplace \| Profile --- § Appearance (Written descriptions) § Motivations and Outlook ... § Background ... Capabilities --- § Skills (See character section in OOC) § Flaws ... § Spells ... § Tactics ... § Relations & Affiliations ... § Opinions (For group members; fill after IC introduction) § Crimes and Accomplishments Optional § Other ... Inventory --- \| \| \| \| § Cash & Valuables ... \| § Keys & Lockpicks ... \| \| § Tools & Crafting Materials ... \| § Clothing, Armor & Jewelry ... \| \| § Weapon & Ammo ... \| § Potion & Arcane Supplies ... \| \| § Books & Documents ... \| § Consumables & Ingredients ... \| \| § Bags & Containers ... \| § Other ... \| Name Race \| Age \| Birthsign Major attribute \| Expert skill(s) \| Role Application submitted on: IC date \| IC location Replace this line with an X if filled with the help of a scribe, otherwise, remove. --- Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response --- (Leave this section to be filled by GM) Contract: Assignment \| Term \| Pay Authenticated by: Lies told in questionnaire: (message this to GM if desired) Background not included in questionnaire: Additional appearance details: Additional personality analysis: Additional skills and flaws: Additional inventory items: From left to right: Carlisle Flyte, Bosmer, Knight of the Flame Sir Yusbeck, Orc, Order of the Raven champion Mistress Solaire, Breton, Synod professor Everard III, Breton, mercenary captain</s> <\|message\|>Height \| Weight \| Age Dibella's House of Common Pleasures 2100, Last Seed 21, 4E 205 --- The sun had set, the curfew had taken effect. Yet in the premiere brothel of Wayrest, the night has just begun. Citizens and occupying soldiers flocked to the "entertainment" district alike, and the latter were more than happy to let their orders slide. Not all who came to one particular brothel, commonly called the House of Commons, came for the bodily pleasures. It was a large three story building of many rooms; many of them housed former pirates trapped between rock and a hard place, while other were occupied by opportunists hoping to pilfer the legendary treasures of the Corsairs. One such individual was Ander. He had rented a small room three days ago, never requiring any services and never returning until dark. Tonight, he was carried in by a band of mercenaries. Ander was unconscious, but in stable condition. He was soaked liked the mercenaries, though thankfully, only in water. They had emerged from a manhole, guided by receipts in Ander's pocket and Alim's directions. Overlooking the bustling lobby, where red lights glazed across dark leather, were the premium guest rooms. These weren't the rooms for pirates and scavengers; only the richest (and often the anonymous) could afford them. Sounds of pleasure and pain seeped through the cracks of mostly sound-proof doors. One such room was taken by Relyssa an hour ago. Another was where a Breton man in an ash gray cloak had emerged. This man wore leather armor under his cloak, and partly concealed under his hood was a silver circlet and messy black hair. His relaxed shoulders showed his ease, yet a faint frown made it clear he was not happy. His right hand hovered around his waist, as if protecting an invisible object attached to his belt. The Breton man took out a pipe, lit it with a spark spell and watched the scene below. "S'toth trusts you were satisfied with his services?" Came a sultry purr from the same room. The Khajiit was a busy one tonight, for his barbed appendages were coveted by curious lords and ladies alike. "Most enjoyable." The Breton man nodded absentmindedly. Without turning to acknowledge the prostitute, he offered a handful of coins. "Here's your tips." As S'toth left, the Breton man focused on the newcomers below. He watched Gustav rent a premium room for himself, and cheaper options for his employees. He watched Xenia Richton, madam of the house, chide them for leaving a wet mess (on this already wet mess of an establishment), and redirecting Ander to the nearest clinic. He watched some soldiers cast suspicious glances at the mercenaries (but none of them did anything, since they weren't supposed to be there in the first place). He watched mercenaries from other companies, who were hired by the armies, size up their newest competitors. Finally, he watched the lonesome Nibenese sailor trailing after them. The Breton man smiled to himself. He made his way downstairs, brushing past the mercenaries and not acknowledging them. He weaved through the sweaty, drunk and aroused mass of people, almost unnoticed, until he was in front of the Nibenese lad. "You there, come." He gestured. "I have a job for you."</s> <\|message\|>Relyssa Deserine 21st Last Seed, A house, somewhere in Wayrest. --- A set of pliers sat askew amidst a pile of silver wire, coiled like a snake but bent and twisted unnaturally. A small vortex that was the circular frame for a diagram on parchment; tea stained, and tickled with cigar ash - smudged just so as to hide the design. The thick tracing that had been made with pencil was etched so confidently on the surface that it had also created an indentation, a river of charcoal creating the image of mastercrafted jewellery. Holding down the corners of the parchment were crystal tumblers, slabs of solid paint, and a cigar box. Trembling fingers reached out to feel the current, stroking each precise line as a jaw quivered, droplets of a rich liquer clung to the dry lower lip of a mouth held ajar. The red that stained the bloodshot corner of otherwise beautiful eyes were the warning lines of danger at the situation. A rasping breath heaved from the scrawny gentleman's chest and he swallowed back another gulp of the whisky. He was long past feeling the burn rush down his oesophagus and into his stomach. All that sat there was a bleak emptiness that rumbled and that's where the sting fell. "Did I…?" he wheezed, blinking down at the page as he tried to make sense of the words written before him, and the line-art of the Lover's Knot, half buried under his clutter and stained with his mess. "Did I do it? Did I steal it?" he whimpered, memories of holding the piece lingering only half there in the darkest corners of his mind, like a ghost. A spectre that elicited a sense of panic and a throbbing anxiety in his chest. His ribcage was too frail to hold such a thunderous heartbeat and he brought down the amber liquid again to drown it, to turn it slick and heavy and bring everything down to the floor. His legs obeyed the command, stop-starting in their movement so it appeared janky and broken. Like a newborn deer finding itself for the first time. His eyes too, were that of a deer as it stared headfirst into danger. Njall pinched the corner of his sketch, dragging it and the crystal tumbler, the paint, and the cigar box down with it. A smash, and thud, and a clatter. All intrusive sounds that were not so intrusive to a lost and drunken mind, just the perfect kind of ambiance. "I remember something… I remember something," he muttered, staring at it closely, his pupils dilating into tiny dots the closer he brought the parchment to his face -- stopping it only when it grazed the tip of his aquiline nose. "Diamonds, glass… Something, something." he struggled, desperately gulping down the last drops of his whisky. "I wasn't in Evermore, was I?" he breathed. Pale and unwashed, Njall could suddenly smell his own breath as it pushed back at him from the paper. A warm and intoxicating fume that it would be dangerous to bring close to a flame. After a moment or two more of scrutinous inspection, the drunken Nord felt that the best course of action was to carefully fold, and fold again the drawing - before shoving it roughly under the leg of his table, and when he staggered back to his feet to place the items in a heap in the centre, the wobbled the entire structure. "Gone now, gone to someplace…" he mused, scratching his oily hairline with a finger. He turned his face this way and that, careful and suspicious of the shadows that flickered against the walls of his humble lodgings. "Like watchful demons tonight you are," he spoke out to them, narrowing his eyes some. "Don't eat my applause," he cursed, wagging a finger at the moving darkness of a lamp that flickered. Njall sighed, his shoulders drooping. His lids were heavy as his stupor continued to worsen. The paper under the table leg was all but gone to him now, and instead his focus turned to a canvas propped against the wall. The abstract shape of a feminine figure in black, topped with red like a plumed crown stared back at the palid Nord, at least from where her eyes should have been painted. "I know, I know-misbehaving again," he slurred out, shrugging his shoulders. "Just that, well…" With yet another sigh, it was clear the man had given up on whatever needed to be said. Instead, retreating once more to the floor, only this time taking to spreading out on the floor beside his mysterious woman. He seemed more relaxed there, the stillness briefly bringing colour back to his complexion. On the ceiling, more strokes of red adorned the beams and careful tiling. An invasion of an artist's colour on an architect's best work. The tendrils and tentacles of red gave his mind something to focus on, and as his head began to spin around, and around, and around, he visualised them peeling away from the ceiling, spiraling down carefully to caress and blanket him. They cocooned him from whatever it was that had been bothering him only minutes ago. Njall fell asleep like that, as he so often did.</s>	<\|message\|>Height \| Weight \| Age 8:15pm, Last Seed 21 Dibella's House of Common Pleasures --- "It's not the type of job you expect here." Everard clarified to Finch. He gestured to the stage, where exotic dancers performed lewd routines. "Let's speak somewhere private, and trust me, it's not what you think it is." The two men entered the Everard's premium suite, and as expected, it had been cleaned up after his session with S'toth. "Close the door." Everard instructed. He sat on a leather sofa, and reaching to the table in front, he uncorked a bottle of wine and set down two glasses. "Take a seat when you're done." "Summerset Reserve, 176 vintage, Shimmerene export." Everard read off the wine label. He poured himself a glass first, and only when he's satisfied after two drags did he fill Finch's glass. "You don't even know what this is, don't you? Normal people like us can't even afford to look at it." "I'll jump straight to business." Everard stated plainly. "I heard people call you 'Finch', and you tend to get into places you shouldn't be in." "I'm Everard, leader of the Blackhounds, and depending on who you ask, the future king of Wayrest or an opportunistic bastard." The Breton man finished his glass. He took the wine bottle and began drinking directly from it. "People say a lot of stuff about me and most of them don't even believe their own words. So don't bother telling anyone about our meeting here; people will laugh you off at best, or worse, may kill you for spreading treasonous rumors." "Here's where you come in." Everard kicked his feet up on the table. "I had a very valuable sword, one made of gold. Some say it's daedric, but I all I care is that it's mine. However, my spymaster, Mathieu the Whisper, decided to steal it from me! That conniving scum! Fuck!" Everard threw his wine glass into the wall behind Finch. It shattered. "Excuse me; I get too attached to things." Everard straightened his jacket collar. He took from big gulp from the wine bottle, and settled back to his previous position as if nothing had happened. "But my loss is your gain, right? We're bloody opportunists, you and I. I have a lot of gold for you, if you can return my sword to me." "Now, here's what you need to do." Everard went to a book shelf and took out a map of Wayrest. "Mathieu prays every evening at the temple, here, just before they close down. It's in the southern occupation zone. They know me and won't let me through, but Mathieu, he's the religious type and on good terms with the priests, so they let him go." "You'll catch him in the temple around sunset. Take my sword back, and preferably killing Mathieu in the process." Everard stared at Finch for a second, then he laughed. "Don't even think about doing it alone. Mathieu is one of the best nightblades in High Rock, and the sword will further strengthen him. Remember that group of people ahead of you? They're mercenaries. Sub-contract them." "On more thing, wait here, and drink the rest if you want." Mathieu pushed the half-drank wine bottle to Finch, and went to a locked chest. He returned with a fabric covered shield. Pulling the cover off, the shield underneath was made of cold gray scales. "Real dragon hide, only wielded by the elites of Jehanna." Everard explained. "A frost dragon flew there from Skyrim, so they killed it and made equipment from its remains. The previous owner, invincible in combat, died from food poisoning. Now you, a nobody, gets to inherit it." "This is your down payment. Of course, you can sell it for a pretty sum on the black market. Alternately, you or one of your allies can use it against Mathieu. I recommend giving it to someome with actual upper body strength." "I want my sword back the morning after tomorrow." Everard declared. He took out his journal and ripped off several pages. "Don't bother asking questions. Everything you need to know is here, including a sketch of that spineless traitor Mathieu. I am much better with written words than spoken ones. Do burn it when you're done." "Now, get to work, and get out of my room." Everard pointed to the door.</s>
<\|description\|>Meeka Halsey "She holds her head high to detract from her heavy heart." 𝔽irst 𝕀mpressions Race: Greater Beastfolk Age: 20 Gender: Female Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Shuyi Zheng Shuyi absent-mindedly drove her donkey cart that was trailing at the end of a merchant caravan. It was a long journey to Chrana, so she was glad to have found a group to travel with. The merchants that led this group was insistent on a tight schedule, so there wasn't much chance for Shuyi to get to know anyone; only a few mercenaries tried to make conversation with her when they made camp, but Shuyi would always be exhausted to the point of passing out. As they drew closer to the Entei Baharan city, Shuyi began to feel anxious. This was the first time she's been this far from home – she hasn't even gone far from the imperial capital since birth. She wondered about what the guild is like, and what kinds of people she may meet there. At least it's better than adventuring alone , she thought as she was reminded of her failed attempt a few weeks prior. At this point, it was late afternoon, and the caravan had stopped at a clearing just inside the gates of Chrana. The journey was complete, and the caravan was disbanding. Shuyi found the merchant leader, paid the other half of the due, and wish each other good fortune. Despite seeming stern, and maybe even a bit… unscrupulous? Shuyi wouldn't mind doing business with the merchant again. With that thought, Shuyi started for the guildhall with her donkey cart. It was nearly sundown when Shuyi finally arrived in front of the guildhall. Normally it shouldn't have taken that long, but it was difficult for the cart to move through the crowd that did not seem deterred by the setting sun. Plus, Shuyi was so dazzled by the city, she was unable to make a beeline. This was a brand-new world to her. At first, she was shocked by the amount of people and things, but that slowly turned into intrigue. Many times, she stopped herself from taking a detour, by telling herself that she should get settled first, and that she will get plenty of chances to wander later. After leaving her cart in a safe place, Shuyi cautiously stepped into the guildhall. She almost immediately ran out since she wasn't prepared for the rowdiness. She expected order and discipline, and this was the opposite. This is what adventurers are like, I guess? She could only attempt to reassure herself as the anxiety in her grew stronger. Surveying the almost tavern-like place, she caught a glimpse of a well-dress, well-mannered man, who, surprisingly, didn't jut out like a sore thumb. That's gotta be someone in charge. I should go talk to him. Deciding that was the best course of action, Shuyi makes her way towards the man while attempting to skirt around clusters of people. Along the way, she caught words like "beastfolk", "spirit", "contract", "oni", and "violent". Shuyi has heard of other races but have never met any. She has seen spirits, though, as it was common for the upper-class to form contract with them. Maybe there will be people from other races that are also taking this job. The thought was short-lasted as she arrived at the counter where the man stood. Taking out the flyer, she hesitantly asked, "Um, hi, are you Nivaan?" After a little pause, she realized she hasn't introduced herself. "Excuse my manners, I am Shuyi Zheng. I was given this flyer during my travels and was told to come here to find Nivaan for the job." She tried not to wince at the word "travels". The truth was, less than two days after she left for the wilderness, she got attacked by beasts. She was saved by an adventurer, who, upon hearing her intentions, gave her the flyer and instructions. However, she wasn't about to tell a complete stranger something this embarrassing.</s> <\|message\|>Yuuris Ishii clicky to read the Pre-rp with @Satoshi Kyou Yuuris dusted off his pants, stareing down at the small cat in front of him. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. After all, He'd only come here due to a...dubious note, and now he was the contractor to a spirit who'd been on the verge of death. He wasn't exactly happy with this situation, but there had been no way he was going to walk away knowing he had the ability to save someone.... Save someone from the same fate as.... No. He wasn't going to think about that right now. He blamed these sudden thoughts on the details of this...contract, pulling up memories that he didn't want to think about. "It better only be a day." he muttered before lifting the shield up and stareing at it...wondering how he was going to carry it for the time being. After a moment, he decided to attach it to his bag, unshouldering it and buckling the shield's grips to it before placing the bag back over his shoulder. He stared down at his new companion and chewed his lip. Her current size was....impossible. She was just too small....there was no way she'd be able to keep up with his pace in this form. With a grumble, and without asking, he bent down and grasped the cat by the scruff, lifting her up and setting her on the shoulder opposite of the silk cape that wrapped around half of him. He wasn't going to take the chance of her little claws pulling a hole in the fabric, since he rather liked this particular cape. "Stay." he saidd sternly, keeping dull grey eyes on her for only a brief moment before looking elsewhere. After all, he still had some things to do here. He still needed to meet with the person who'd left that note. Interestingly enough, he didn't seem too bothered by the coldness that radiated off of her.... With that, he set off, only pausing briefly to make sure that the spirit on his shoulder wasn't going to fall off. His pace was brisk....he'd wasted too much time with this little event and now he was behind schedule. And it didn't take long for him to reach the guildhall....not when the crowd around them seemed to part for the young man. He was used to this; his lack of personality and cold blunt nature often gave people the feeling that something was wrong. He'd been told once that he gave off the feeling of someone who was dead but alive at the same time. But he couldn't remember by who. Finally, the guildhall was in sight, and he grunted, pushing the door open and entering the rowdy...almost arena. As usual, many people looked up to see who'd entered...and almost instantly there was a hush that briefly ran through the place. It didn't last long, as people quickly turned their attention away...but the conversations shifted.... "What's the Stonehearted Hunter doing here of all places?!" "Damn, I thought he'd already died....." "Don't look at him you idiot! You'll be cursed!" "He brings bad luck wherever he goes...guess it's time to leave...." Yuuris paid no mind to the whispers, to the hushed tones underneath the brawls and rowdy drunks. He made his way directly to the guild counter, standing just behind a young lady. He heard her introduce herself, and hand the man behind the desk the exact same flyer. He gave a grunt, leaning around her and placed his own flyer down on the counter, showing that he was here for the same thing. He really didn't seem like he was the friendly type.</s> <\|message\|>Wilben Felpip Oventamer This was far from Wilben's first time Chrana. It was a bustling city in a bustling region, thousands moving in and out of it every day. Wilben had visited more than a few times for many reasons: meeting investors, picking through local markets, and scouting the competition to name a few - though for that last part, of course none came close to his perfect vision, Le Paradis. Coincidentally, Le Paradis was the reason the Gnome was there now. When his kitchen staff brought a certain advertisement to his attention, he'd thought that it would be a good opportunity to push his business to true world stardom. After all, if it's owner was part of some famous crew touring the world, wouldn't that bring in a lot people hoping to get a glimpse of said crew? Of course, once these star chasers tasted the menu, well, that would be that. New regulars. The plan made perfect sense to him. The chef had arrived in the capital late last night and spent not even a single moment outside of his hotel room until the dawn came and he was refreshed and ready to meet with the city's guildmaster. After taking some time to double check his appearance (wouldn't want to look sloppy in a business meeting, however informal!), Wilben was off through the bazaar and towards the guildhall. Now, it was common knowledge that Gnomes were a small people. Wilben was no exception. At a normal pace it would probably take a Gnome twice the amount of time it would take a Human to get to the same place. Wilben did not walk at a normal pace. His ego was larger than life, and he took bold strides - which had him crashing into a lot of legs just trying to make it through the crowd. "Ugh, get out of the way!" he grumbled, physically shoving any poor soul that happened to be standing in his path. The bazaar was a sea of humans - and not-so-humans - yelping and looking down at their feet. It was a trail of bruised knees and stepped on toes right up to the guild's door, when someone snatched Wilben by the back of his jacket and lifted him into the air. "Yer bein' awful rude, don'cha think?" The man that grabbed him was nearly as wide as he was tall, with a scar or three on each of his muscular arms. The ruffian looked Wilben up and down, taking in all three feet of him, and snorted. The Gnome just crossed his arms. "It's obvious you ain't from around here. In Chrana we do things a certain--" "Stop," Wilben interrupted, raising a hand in front of the man's face who blinked in genuine surprise. "I have somewhere to be, so I will pay you five hundred gold right now to fuck off. Deal?" "What--" It was clear that Wilben's would-be captor was getting angry, so the chef wiggled out of his grip and mustered all the strength in his little body to deliver a kick right to the man's shin. As he howled in pain, Wilben went right through the guild's doors. Not his problem the guy didn't know a sweet deal when he heard it. Straightening his coat, Wilben ducked under an unruly but ultimately friendly couple of gents and halfway towards the counter he paused seeing a crowd there. "Great," he sighed. No one liked waiting in line. He hadn't had to wait in a line since - wait, who said he had to? He was Wilben Felpip Oventamer!"Ahem!" The rather loud clearing of his throat quietened the guildhall for just a few moments before it roared back to life again, people chatting, singing, fighting and swapping rumors. The guild's master raised a brow, a humorous smile tugging at his lips as he nodded his head toward the side to indicate a hallway. An invitation of sorts, Wilben supposed. That was good, clearly his reputation preceded him. Without further ado the Gnome turned and headed towards the meeting area, a room tucked away towards the back of the guild. He knew he'd found the right place when he'd found a room that wasn't totally empty nor filled to the brim with gung-ho adventurers. The room's sole occupant was a human man with shaggy dark hair. He couldn't say he'd every seen the man before, but after a while a lot of humans started to look the same. This one in particular sort of looked like a hobo. "Books and covers, Felpip," Wilben muttered to himself, looking away from the man and climbing into one of the chairs.</s> <\|message\|>Eshima "Eshi" Ashikaga [Post Redacted as part of Fixing Undesired Narrative, FUN for short]</s>	<\|message\|>Meeka Halsey Meeka was a bit surprised at the commotion coming from behind her. She would have never thought that someone would get sent flying across the room. Though, from what her ears picked up, it was quite deserved. Thinking about it, Meeka never really got into a fight with her antagonizers. There were plenty where she was from, and unless Morton was there to handle it there was little to dissuade them. Meeka usually tried to ignore nasty comments, aggressive people, or people she didn't like in particular. Sure she could make threats with her shooting skills, and shoot examples to show she could make good on those threats, but if it came to a physical struggle, she wouldn't be able to pull off what the half oni just did. In a pinch she was sure she could use her fangs and claws, and she would, but that would probably only serve to make them think of her as some rabid beast when its all said and done. Meeka refocused on her task at hand, following the man she presented the flyer to into a back room where it looked like some chairs were set out for them. Meeka scanned the room, seeing a human and a gnome already inside and waiting. She went to a chair that was the furthest from the two as not to seem like she was intruding in their space, and neatly took a seat, smoothing out her dress to reduce visible wrinkles in the fabric. She sat straight and proper with her hands resting in her lap as she waited. To pass the time in her mind, she started to think about the different places she would go. Maybe she would find other wolf beastfolk? That could be interesting. Maybe even learn some new spells, though she would have to work on her calligraphy a bit more before moving on to new talisman designs.</s>
<\|description\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Face Claim: Max Irons AGE 18 GENDER Male Nationality Canadian Intelligence Connection Canadian Security Intelligence Service College/Field of Study Keble College (Archaeology) Personality Colin is often seen as a person gifted with a certain sense of warmth that draws crowds together. However, Colin is also characterized with a ruthless level of rationality, using his drive, determination and sharp mind to achieve whatever end he has set for himself. This was made very clear during his REDACTED where he made drastic changes as the REDACTED and REDACTED squad. The trouble many people have with Colin is that he can put people on edge after they have known him for some time. They suddenly realize his mannerisms, personality, and body language rarely changes from his warm to calculating sides making him hard to read or predict. REDACTED HISTORY Colin was born in REDACTED, Ontario Canada to his parents REDACTED and REDACTED Sheehan. Both worked for the Canadian Government with his mother working as a field agent for the CSIS and his father working for REDACTED. When they were first approached to join Verita it was while working on a joint operation involving a REDACTED working out of Australia. They had gotten tired with the politics of protecting people and were quick to join when the Verita contacted them. Allowing their son to join was another matter completely. While on a REDACTED in Ireland Colin's mother was the first one given the opportunity to integrate Colin into the secret community, but she rebuffed it immediately. When the organization approached his father on the other hand he went home and brought it up with his wife for discussion. His arguments were heard, but after the initial conversation they were vetoed by his wife. Colin was at this point still completely out of the loop involving his parents real work and their involvement in the Verita, but he could tell they were arguing about something and it put a huge strain on him and the family. Both seemed to be very conflicted, while his father seemed open to bringing Colin into the fold they both still needed convincing. After two years they decided to accept the proposal after a mission in REDACTED went bad and the Verita had to extract them after they were left in the cold by their handlers and contacts. Conditioning their son was not something that they took lightly and they immediately started him with REDACTED, REDACTED, and other training programs. First told about The Academy program during his freshmen year in secondary high school Colin was initially excited about the opportunity; however, his parents were quick to leave things vague and completely left out the underlining program and instead presenting it as an academic program only. The closer Colin got to graduation and the more he saw his friends blazing their own paths the more uneasy he became with his parents attaching him to this program. He took focus away from his REDACTED and instead started to party and lax on his studies which put him at odds with his family repeatedly. It wasn't until he confronted his parents about why they decided to sign him up for The Academy when they had no right that they finally shared everything with their Son. That night change Colin's life forever as his parents told him about a mission in REDACTED. He learned that his mother, instead of being a pencil pusher in the Canadian bureaucracy machine; was a team leader within REDACTED. Her unit specialized in counter intelligence operations which meant she REDACTED and this past mission got switched on them. Instead of REDACTED it was REDACTED and once they knew their cover was blown they escaped, but not before leaving a .45 resignation letter in one of their contacts. He learned that his father was indeed a police officer but not in the public relations department as he had been raised to believe. Instead he was a senior field commander with the REDACTED. While it was rare for them to work together the two had repeatedly been called upon in different capacities to find and REDACTED a drug lord who was involved in several attacks on REDACTED. Colin learned that night that the program he was signed up for wasn't just an academic track, but one that would completely embed him in the world of espionage. Colin immediately returned to his studies and training with new resolve and has since seen his path line up directly with that of Verita. A true believer in the organization he has an almost zealot belief in what they are attempting to accomplish and will not waver when the moment comes. Equipment * Mothers favorite REDACTED. * Fathers old school flip phone. * Competitive REDACTED Equipment. * Collection of James Bond Books. * Standard Android Google Pixel 4. * His Fathers Diving Watch. Weapons Equipment * Sig Sauer P226 Pistol (Gift from REDACTED) * Several Hidden Knives (Gift from REDACTED) Other * Colin enjoys Baseball and listens to REDACTED games on the radio often. * He is fluent in both English and REDACTED. * Colin has kept up his REDACTED as a stress relief hobby. * He has a deep respect and love for all things puzzle related.</s> <\|message\|>刘梦潭 --- --- Maddie's eyes were drawn to the building that she was supposed to be staying at. In a way, it both stood out and blended in. The building was a metallic, cool-looking platinum black rectangle, not elaborate to attract unwarranted attention, and looked quite like an average flat, but at the same time there was something about the building that stood out to her. Something unique about its sleek design was charming to the future spy. As Maddie was examining the building, she heard the sounds of footsteps on the pavement, growing louder. Maddie immediately swiveled towards the source of the walking to see a young lady standing near her by the building. Maddie's eyes immediately went about registering information about this girl. As her father would always tell her, "Every drop of information you learn will grow to become a waterfall of power." The girl, Maddie noticed, appeared fairly youthful, and so Maddie either assumed she was one of her peers, or some type of student-teacher, perhaps. She also noticed the girl was quite stocky, very well-built, with a domineering look about her. This information, combined with the fact that she was standing alongside Maddie outside this square box building, led her to believe that she was a student as well. Before Maddie could speak if she wanted to, another girl approached, wearing strikingly loud high-heels and toting a variety of goods, before immediately asking, "I guess you two are students as well?" Maddie could tell the girl, another one roughly their age, had a clear American tone and once again made the assumption she was yet another spy, albeit a slightly more social one. Made sense; this one didn't seem to be quite as muscle-bound as the blonde-ish girl, making Maddie assume her field of expertise lied somewhere in the area of support or communication. Maddie cleared her throat. "I think so," she said, her English highly polished and spoken with an audible English accent, a product of her tutelage under several English-born teachers. She then added, "At least, if you both are here for the reason I imagine you're here for." She extended her hand. "Maddie Lau. And you two?" @Infernal Flame</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Reykjavik Airport The tarmac outside Reykjavik, Iceland was cold with a brilliant sun overhead. Colin knew they had a word for days like this as he had seen it on a YouTube video once. Gluggaveður was the word and it fit the situation perfectly. From the inside while going through customs Devin saw through the window the wonderfully light Icelandic countryside. It was easy to see as the airport was basically in its own part of the island removed from most everything including their capital city. The flight that he had been on needed to take a pit stop to refuel. The travel from Vancouver had been somewhat dull due to the lack of human interaction. Unknown to him his ticket wasn't for an economy seat to London, but in fact a private plane that was taking him straight to Oxford. The stop in Iceland was planned, but his requirement to go through customs was not. It was fine for him as he had everything he needed, but what did feel weird was that every time he spoke to someone new they asked him the same question "Are you the only one traveling on this plane?" His answer was as civil as their repeating of the question. "No." In Transit Finally after what felt like an hour, but was really only 20 minutes he and the flight was released to take off. The bright Iceland sun was still above as they took off at 4 AM. The rest of the flight was as mundane as the first half. When the final clearance to land was given Colin secretly thanked God as he was starting to get stir-crazy in the small metal tube. As soon as the doors to the plan hit the tarmac he was out and made his way out of the small airport. His small duffel bag was in one hand with his other holding his phone. Five clicks later he was in an Uber taking him to the requested address. The ride seemed to twist and turn, but he kept a close eye on the map and asked the driver a question or two so as to keep things focused on what he wanted them to. He knew he was nervous as it would have been better for him to remain silent and simply study the map so as to be able to navigate around himself. Still not every day you can say you are starting the rest of your life... Shoe Box When the drivers cell phone announced that they had arrived at the destination Colin thanked him and got out of the car. Standing next to the sidewalk he looked down at his phone to confirm and then over at the three people standing in front of the address. As the car pulled up he noticed the one of them had seemingly only just arrived and started to talk to the others. Oblivious to them and simply saying "Excuse me" he walked right past them and up to the large black building and saw that there was a doorbell. 'Home looks inviting.' he thought as he then rang the doorbell and then glanced back at the three before turning back to the door.</s>	<\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan 20 Minutes Before Students Arrival BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Clank. Rabinder had taken his hand and smashed it down on his alarms snooze button as quickly as he had come to realize what the sound was. He groaned as another day apologetically seemed to be starting. He stayed in bed another five minutes before finally making his way to the bathroom. A quick shower lead him to his dresser where he threw on some underwear, a plain white t-shirt and some sweats. He then made his way up the stairs to the first floor of the Shoe Box and over to the kitchen. There he started to pour himself a bowl of cereal when his watch started to beep. Is there no end to this torture... he thought as he too his bowl and made his way into a back meeting room where the student guides awaited distribution. He set his cereal bowl down and spoke out load to the room "Show me outside cameras - front." He said and several of the mounted monitors sprung to life showing the front part of the house. He watched as one by one the new spies to be arrived quickly and on time. He noted that just like last time everyone started off by standing around until a last arrival decided to simply walk up and ring the doorbell. "You have 5 guests at the front door. Some are armed and there are several unknown electronic devices on their persons." The somewhat automated voice had little in the way of tone, but Rabinder knew what the computer was really trying to say as he picked up his bowl and made his way to the door. He unlocked the chain lock and opened the door to see a young man standing at the doorway with the rest a few paces back. All of them were looking at him as he took a bite out of his frosted flakes. "Come on in." He said through the sugar cereal. He then turned and walked into the living room and put his bowl on the counter top that separated the kitchen and casual room. "So this is the Shoe Box. My name is Rabinder Singha. You can find four bedrooms in the second floor and 3 in this floor. I'm not your dad so you can figure out how you want to go about selecting your sleeping quarters. First meeting is going to be..." He paused until the home smart system spoke. "Briefing will begin at 10 AM with William Stephenson, Elizabeth Lew, and Nathan Hale in attendance. They have said that they expect it to last no more than 3 hours and that attendance is mandatory." "Awwww...." Rabinder muttered when he heard the name Elizabeth would be in attendance. "Thank you." He said in a dismissive voice. "Anyway you can leave your bags here until you figure out your rooms. Just don't come to me to help settle anything."</s>
<\|description\|>刘梦潭 Liu2 meng4 tan2 lau4 mung6 taam4 Madeleine "Maddie" Lau A G E 18 G E N D E R Female N a t i o n a l i t y Chinese / Hong Kongese I n t e l l i g e n c e C o n n e c t i o n MSS ( Ministry of State Security / China) D e c l a r e d M a j o r Classics and Oriental Studies at Mansfield College A P P E A R A N C E Maddie's most noticeable feature is her clear Oriental heritage- she has pale ivory skin complemented by a mane of jet black hair and sharp, caramel eyes. Maddie is slightly below-average in height, but she has a well-developed figure and is lightly muscled, not enough so to be considered overly sinewy but still wiry overall. She very noticeably stands with excellent posture, a combination of both strict family training and a desire for increased height. In terms of apparel, Maddie is rather lackadaisical. Not to say she's utterly un-fashionable, and certainly can dress the part on important days, but often times Maddie will find herself in a mess due to a sheer lack of determination to make herself look better. Despite that, Maddie does have a conventional beauty about her (especially when she [is] prepared) that makes certain objectives for a spy a bit easier, wink wink. P E R S O N A L I T Y Maddie is a naturally vibrant individual- affable and social, a generally warm person that is easy to get along with. When it comes to conversation, Maddie is always open to talk. Despite her openness to conversation, and a propensity for small talk, Maddie finds difficulty in discussing feelings and things that are deeper on an emotional level, often coming off as awkward and gauche when this occurs. Perhaps what is most memorable about Maddie's personality is her undying curiosity. She is always inquisitive and observant of her surroundings, always taking close notice of everything, and committing much of what she sees into memory. Often described as a "genius," Maddie is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to miscellaneous knowledge, an easy Jeopardy champion if she were to be tested. She is well-versed in many fields and enjoys pursuing those interests with other people. For the areas that Maddie is not an expert in, she is more than willing to step outside of her comfort zone and engage in them. [more to follow] wip, but quick gist- sociable but awkward, smart, very curious, a bit more innocent than one would expect from a spy (facade? maybe), a bit of a nerd, but nice, et cetera R E D A C T E D H I S T O R Y Maddie's conception is somewhat of a unique love story. Her father, [REDACTED], was an agent for the MSS, a traveling man who specialized in diplomacy with other countries. A linguist that spoke [REDACTED] different languages, he had been assigned by his superior, [REDACTED], to help influence the transfer of sovereignty of Hong Kong back to China. Hong Kongese from birth, he agreed and spent years traveling to secure crucial agreements and place critical bribes for the transfer to occur. One year, he met [REDACTED], a political science professor at Hong Kong University, and sparked a relationship with her. Their courtship led to a marriage and a child a few years later, that child being Madeleine Lau. With Maddie's father [REDACTED] being out-of-country quite often to work abroad, Maddie was primarily raised by her mother, who soon came to realize that her child was very interesting. Maddie started demonstrating an aptitude for learning very early on, especially in the fields of literature, where her vocabulary blossomed from a young age. Gifted with a ludicrously skilled eidetic memory, Maddie had tackled the likes of Plato's Republic and Machiavelli's The Prince by the age of 8. She was an exceptionally fast learner and gifted student, and Maddie's father came to realize that her talents would be highly useful in Veritas, and so he began to hone her talents with a specialty in spy training. Homeschooled on a grand combination of skills applicable to a spy, Maddie picked up on them exceptionally, and soon became a literal walking encyclopedia of spy knowledge. However, after a near-death mission in [REDACTED], [REDACTED], Maddie's father decided it would be best not to expose his daughter to the dangers of the intelligence community yet, and as such Maddie's experience in actual espionage is theoretical, limited at best. That being said, there's enough knowledge in that brain to make her a force to be reckoned with for sure. Don't underestimate her skills, or you may find yourself [REDACTED] S K I L L S Eidetic Memory: Maddie's most notable characteristic. While not entirely photographic, her memory is still inarguably phenomenal, and allows her to cite information from a variety of sources with ease. Her incredibly observant nature combined with her exceptional knowledge comes in handy often. She's often been deemed as a walking encyclopedia for her vast wealth of knowledge stored inside her brain. Martial Arts: Most likely Maddie's second most notable characteristic, she is a gifted martial artist, having learned from her father, who himself trained heavily in hand-to-hand combat due to the liability of carrying a weapon into the field on certain occasions. Maddie's specialty is in Xing Yi Quan, a kung fu style translating to "Shape-Will Fist" that focuses on quick, aggressive strikes. That being said, Maddie is versed in jiu-jitsu, karate, judo, muay thai, krav maga, and aikido on a theoretical level, with a great understanding in the strengths and weaknesses in all the styles, though lacking in actual practice in all of them. Linguistics: Maddie is fluent in English, Mandarian, and Cantonese, though she tends to use only the former and the latter in her regular life. Maddie also has some experience in speaking French and Japanese, though she cannot read or write in either of them. Speed-reading: Maddie is an exceptionally fast reader, having mastered the ability to avoid subvocalization, and thus allows her to quickly absorb information for processing at a later time. E Q U I P M E N T Two CZ 75 Pistols Thompson Pro Hunter Ballpoint pen Bobby pins Perfume sprays Earrings Mints Other WIP NOTE: personality, appearance, some other info will be coming soon.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Currently On Chapter 1 - Campus Orientation Each Student was given a detailed itinerary laying out their travel arrangements to Oxford, England. As most have arrived in the country via plan they were each assigned a different method of traveling the roughly 1 hour trip from the airport to the university and their new home. When they arrive at the address provided they are simply told to 'await further instructions according to the itinerary.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Night Before Orientation Sitting with his back to the view, William Stephenson held a large manilla envelope in his hand. He used his butter knife to open it from the side and wiggled the photos out onto the plate in front of him. Each picture was a snapshot of a person going about their day at an airport it seemed. None were connected or had any specific perspective other than they weren't looking at the camera. In fact each seemed blissfully unaware of the photograph being taken. Looking at each one carefully and then flipping them to look at the back he saw a multitude of numbers. It looked through them as if he were reading them. He quietly put them back in the envelope and then set it on fire using a candle. The action seemed to catch no one's attention as the clamor and chaos of a busy high end restaurant ran around him. A few minutes later he was joined by a woman in her mid 50's. Her elegant black and white dress matched his suit and tie perfectly with an obvious touch of coordination between them. "You never could stop with the theatrics." She said after she saw the ashes from the burnt paper on the white table cloth. Her accent was a mix of South African and something else that was hard to hear if you didn't know her. "Yes, well, this time it isn't me who seems to be the ringleader…" Stephenson let this thought linger as the table fell into silence. When he finally continued it was only after he saw no movement in his tablemate to break the silence. "The Academy has been mine to oversee for the past 7 years. I see no reason that the recent incidents should reflect on me." The woman seemed to break as she looked down at her purse and then back at the man. "You may see this as an overreaction; however, you would do well to remember that this pet project of yours is not viewed so highly. It took more than a few tense conversations to allow you to continue as overseer." A phone in her purse started to ring. She gave a polite smile and pulled it out. "I am needed in Istanbul. I trust you will see things as they are and understand what position you are in." The woman then stood up gave a curt nod leaving Stephenson just as food was being brought over to the table. He silently watched her left and then accepted his meal while sending her plate back. The rest of the night he was lost in his own thoughts… In this world you always know what position you are in… even when you're dead.</s>	<\|message\|>刘梦潭 Despite the roaring of the helicopter blades, the sounds of air being sliced around her, the jarring of the helicopter controls and the incessant chatter of the pilot and co-pilot, it couldn't be any more quiet inside Maddie's head as she sat inside the chopper. She was sitting back in a small, cushioned chair, her arms folded, as she waited for the helicopter to land at long last. Her deep, dark brown, chocolate eyes scanned the room, examining every nook, every cranny, every angle of the small helicopter's interior. As her father would always tell her, "Every opportunity you have awake is one to observe your surroundings. Hone your awareness. There is no use for sunlight if is not being focused." She would spend hours on some days just observing scenery, observing rooms, observing people and recalling information about them. She thought back to days when her father would take her to restaurants on the Eastern district, and would ask her to close her eyes and recall details about patrons from memory, their clothing, their positions relative to each other, and more. Maddie enjoyed those experiences, these simpler tests of wit and memory over a dish of gu lou juk as opposed to being smack-dab in the middle of an enemy base, surrounded by hostiles, looking for anything that can get you out of that situation. "And here I am, drifting away again," she mumbled to herself, looking up again. While it wasn't the first time she had been away from home, it was the first time that she would be this far away from home for this long, and it was taking its toll on Maddie's mental state ever so slightly. It wasn't like Maddie lacked the ability to take care of herself in any sense of the word, nor was she afraid of the challenges that awaited her in Oxford, England. As both a longtime student of espionage and near-native English speaker, she was confident she would adjust well to her new life. But sometimes emotions do not act rationally, and indeed, Maddie believed the strange "butterflies-in-stomach" experience she was currently undergoing was related to the strange way that emotions sometimes work. There was suddenly a loud bump as the helicopter landed in Oxford, giving Maddie a sudden jolt. She stood quickly as the pilot emerged from the cockpit, peaking his head out as he spoke in a thick drawl. "Aye, we're 'ere, love. Ye can ged off 'bout now. Ye ain't a far walk 'rom the 'dress ye gave me. Just a few blocks 'round the corner and ye'll be right o'er there." Maddie quickly stood, grabbing her bag, and gave the pilot a curt nod. "Thank you, sir. Your services are well-appreciated." The man gave a nod back. "Take care." He gave another glance, now suspicious. "Ey, who are ye, walking 'round London alone with a private 'elicopper ride? Who sent ye here? What mischief 'ya up to?" The girl was already long gone. Maddie walked away from the helipad down the streets of Oxford, her eyes once again buzzing alight in a new environment. She wore a choker top, white with pale blue flower imprints winding around it, underneath a black Broome leather jacket with gold highlights. She also wore a pair of black jeans and a pair of matching knee-high black boots. Around her shoulder was a dark blue satchel with silver trim and silver dragon emblem sewed onto the center, a gift from her mother a year earlier. Winding through the streets of Oxford, observing all the way, Maddie approached a large, almost out-of-place black building. She looked down at the scrap of paper she held in her hand before looking back up at the building. "Seems...about right," she said quietly, in English, to herself. Despite having learned it at a very young age, Maddie still was not entirely confident with her English skills, perhaps from a lack of practice opportunities. She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Guess I'll wait."</s>
<\|description\|>Cairo Valentine Lalatović Florence Pugh\| #DAA520 pronounced Lalatoevich N A T I O N A L I T Y Serbian-French A G E 18 G E N D E R Female S E X U A L I T Y REDACTED- with a slight preference for REDACTED I N T E L L I G E N C E C O N N E C T I O N Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure (DGSE) or General Directorate for External Security in English C O U R S E & C O L L E G E Modern Languages (Spanish and Arabic) at Magdalen College A P P E A R A N C E Cairo's most distinctive feature is her slightly deep voice and rasping laugh. She has an international accent that, more often than not, sounds standard American. However, her accent has been known to change to fit with those she talks to. The second thing most people notice are her green-brown eyes that complement her full, dark brown eyebrows and blonde-brown hair. Her hair is thick and wavy, falling a couple inches below her shoulder. She has a strong, almost squarish face with a pointed chin and full lips. With high cheekbones, her upper lip protrudes ever so lightly from the bottom giving her a haughty look. Due to her constant training, she has a very lean build with plenty of muscles. With a boyish frame, she doesn't have that hourglass figure of most women. One of her best features are her legs, which are strong, thick and long. In her clothing choices, Cairo is fastidious. Her outfits are always well put together and thought out, regardless of whether it's a plain white t-shirt and jeans with her signature blazer or leather jacket, or it's a monochrome look straight out of the pages of Vogue Italia. While she's not adverse to dresses, and has been seen on occasion sporting a flowery dress or a satin number, it's for sure not her go to. Most of the time, she's seen in either pants or shorts of some kind; but almost never in a skirt. Her clothing tends to err on the side of comfortable, classic looks with a focus on practicality. I N T E R E S T S * Languages and Linguistics * Travelling * Weapons Training * Running * Mountaineering * Judo, Krav Maga and MMA * REDACTED and REDACTED * REDACTED * REDACTED and REDACTED P E R S O N A L I T Y Cairo's the definition of a cool girl. Aloof, self-assured, sharp and charismatic, with enough edge to make her interesting. More often than not people take her slightly REDACTED, and REDACTED at face value; neglecting to see beyond her tough exterior. For those allowed beyond that wall, Cairo is fiercely REDACTED, REDACTED and REDACTED. REDACTED SECTION She can also be quite shy, although she's been taught to hide that well. When shy, her REDACTED REDACTED is a cold and aloof personality; choosing to unnerve rather than endear. With her masculine vibe and intense energy, she has been known to intimidate and impress in equal measure. REDACTED SENTENCE She's a bit reckless and REDACTED, which has left her in sticky situations in the past. Contrary to how she appears, REDACTED, throwing herself into situations and getting herself out of them through sheer force of will. Cairo's also a bit of a REDACTED, and always up for an adventure. REDACTED SECTION R E D A C T E D H I S T O R Y Born the daughter of REDACTED and REDACTED, Cairo's always been a part of this life. Her grandfather had been part of REDACTED during the Cold War, but defected to REDACTED with his family during the height of the Cold War. As such, her father grew up in France and joined REDACTED where he met her mother; herself a child of an operative. REDACTED SECTION Posing as a low-level diplomat and a diplomat's husband, the two have travelled from post to post until Cairo was born. From the moment of her birth, Cairo was raised to join the long line of intelligence operatives. Due to her upbringing, Cairo grew up quite distanced from children her age. She's been training as an operative, and with the goal of joining Verità for as long as she can remember. REDACTED SENTENCE While she has been taught all the necessary skills, and more, required of a lethal agent she has yet to kill. Most of her practical experience has been centered on stealth or infiltration. As such, she is able to easily adapt to most situations and blend in without raising alarm. M I S C. & E Q U I P M E N T She is a polyglot and speaks REDACTED and REDACTED as her native languages. She is fluent in REDACTED and REDACTED, easily passing for a native speaker. She is also working on a variety of other languages, most advanced of which are REDACTED, REDACTED and REDACTED. As for her equipment, Cairo is an expert marksman and usually carries with her, at the most basic level, a Walther PPK handgun. She also has in her arsenal a 9mm Glock 17, a 9mm Heckler & Koch USP, a French military issue sniper rifle, and an M16 assault rifle. She's also been taught some other fighting using swords, sticks and makeshift weapons. Of more interest are REDACTED that, when fitted together, form a hairpin. She also has several magnetic bracelets which can REDACTED SECTION. She also has 2 packs of cigarettes that, as she doesn't smoke, work as REDACTED SECTION. She has some other interesting gadgets such as REDACTED SECTION. Lastly, Cairo has her personal climbing gear that has been configured for intelligence and stealth work.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Reykjavik Airport The tarmac outside Reykjavik, Iceland was cold with a brilliant sun overhead. Colin knew they had a word for days like this as he had seen it on a YouTube video once. Gluggaveður was the word and it fit the situation perfectly. From the inside while going through customs Devin saw through the window the wonderfully light Icelandic countryside. It was easy to see as the airport was basically in its own part of the island removed from most everything including their capital city. The flight that he had been on needed to take a pit stop to refuel. The travel from Vancouver had been somewhat dull due to the lack of human interaction. Unknown to him his ticket wasn't for an economy seat to London, but in fact a private plane that was taking him straight to Oxford. The stop in Iceland was planned, but his requirement to go through customs was not. It was fine for him as he had everything he needed, but what did feel weird was that every time he spoke to someone new they asked him the same question "Are you the only one traveling on this plane?" His answer was as civil as their repeating of the question. "No." In Transit Finally after what felt like an hour, but was really only 20 minutes he and the flight was released to take off. The bright Iceland sun was still above as they took off at 4 AM. The rest of the flight was as mundane as the first half. When the final clearance to land was given Colin secretly thanked God as he was starting to get stir-crazy in the small metal tube. As soon as the doors to the plan hit the tarmac he was out and made his way out of the small airport. His small duffel bag was in one hand with his other holding his phone. Five clicks later he was in an Uber taking him to the requested address. The ride seemed to twist and turn, but he kept a close eye on the map and asked the driver a question or two so as to keep things focused on what he wanted them to. He knew he was nervous as it would have been better for him to remain silent and simply study the map so as to be able to navigate around himself. Still not every day you can say you are starting the rest of your life... Shoe Box When the drivers cell phone announced that they had arrived at the destination Colin thanked him and got out of the car. Standing next to the sidewalk he looked down at his phone to confirm and then over at the three people standing in front of the address. As the car pulled up he noticed the one of them had seemingly only just arrived and started to talk to the others. Oblivious to them and simply saying "Excuse me" he walked right past them and up to the large black building and saw that there was a doorbell. 'Home looks inviting.' he thought as he then rang the doorbell and then glanced back at the three before turning back to the door.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan 20 Minutes Before Students Arrival BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Clank. Rabinder had taken his hand and smashed it down on his alarms snooze button as quickly as he had come to realize what the sound was. He groaned as another day apologetically seemed to be starting. He stayed in bed another five minutes before finally making his way to the bathroom. A quick shower lead him to his dresser where he threw on some underwear, a plain white t-shirt and some sweats. He then made his way up the stairs to the first floor of the Shoe Box and over to the kitchen. There he started to pour himself a bowl of cereal when his watch started to beep. Is there no end to this torture... he thought as he too his bowl and made his way into a back meeting room where the student guides awaited distribution. He set his cereal bowl down and spoke out load to the room "Show me outside cameras - front." He said and several of the mounted monitors sprung to life showing the front part of the house. He watched as one by one the new spies to be arrived quickly and on time. He noted that just like last time everyone started off by standing around until a last arrival decided to simply walk up and ring the doorbell. "You have 5 guests at the front door. Some are armed and there are several unknown electronic devices on their persons." The somewhat automated voice had little in the way of tone, but Rabinder knew what the computer was really trying to say as he picked up his bowl and made his way to the door. He unlocked the chain lock and opened the door to see a young man standing at the doorway with the rest a few paces back. All of them were looking at him as he took a bite out of his frosted flakes. "Come on in." He said through the sugar cereal. He then turned and walked into the living room and put his bowl on the counter top that separated the kitchen and casual room. "So this is the Shoe Box. My name is Rabinder Singha. You can find four bedrooms in the second floor and 3 in this floor. I'm not your dad so you can figure out how you want to go about selecting your sleeping quarters. First meeting is going to be..." He paused until the home smart system spoke. "Briefing will begin at 10 AM with William Stephenson, Elizabeth Lew, and Nathan Hale in attendance. They have said that they expect it to last no more than 3 hours and that attendance is mandatory." "Awwww...." Rabinder muttered when he heard the name Elizabeth would be in attendance. "Thank you." He said in a dismissive voice. "Anyway you can leave your bags here until you figure out your rooms. Just don't come to me to help settle anything."</s>	<\|message\|>Cairo Valentine Lalatović Same time, same place. --- Cairo smiled carefully at the new girl in welcome, her mouth closed and slightly pointy. The other two started chatting lightly, slipping effortlessly into that sort of small talk that never came easily to Cairo, the girl. Cairo, the spy, however, could engage even the most guarded of her marks in conversation, flitting seamlessly from one topic to the next. But the girl herself, was more awkward then that. That's why, when she was given an opening, a chance to introduce herself, her nervousness came out in short, clipped sentences. "Cairo." She extended her hand to clasp the Asian chick's one, her grip firm. Before much more could be said, a boy breezed by them, displacing the other girls a little. Cairo, built as robustly as she was, barely shifted. He rang the doorbell, and the assembled group waited. Another boy had joined by the time the anticipation tinged silence has slowly morphed into tension. Finally, the door swung open to reveal a boy— no, man— boy-man standing in the doorway eating some cereal carelessly. He looked Indian, or Middle Eastern, with the lazy air characteristic of the many fresher boys who populated UK universities. He waved them in as he turned further into the building. Curious, Cairo stepped away from the sidewalk, and past the boy who'd pressed the doorbell, into the house proper. Her bags were placed neatly to one side of the living room. It was an open plan, modern space with the living room bleeding effortlessly into the kitchen. Not that it's a hardship to make it look effortless since there are only two colours to speak of in this house, she thought to herself. He gave a little spiel, with the barest of information actually revealed, in that same careless voice that matched the rest of his persona. At the announcement that they would be choosing their rooms for themselves, Cairo let out an internal sigh of frustration. Toss a couple of unfamiliar people into a group, and there was bound to be some tension. None of that community spirit has been created, nor the bonds of friendship so she thought it would be too much to ask to get them to decide on this in an orderly way. But she'd try. "Thanks, Rabindar. About the rooms," with this she turned to face the rest of the students, "why don't we all individually check them out and meet back here in 5 minutes to decide who gets what, based on if certain people have any preferences." Although she didn't know it, she looked pretty intimidating as she stared the rest of them down, her eyes icy, and her resting b*tch face firmly in place.</s>
<\|description\|>Joss Age: 27 Occupation: Driver/ Amateur Mechanic / Appointed "Fixer" Personality Traits: Introverted \| Friendly \| Flirtatious (with certain people) \| Risk-taker \| Addiction (pain meds from an accident)</s> <\|message\|>Joss Like many places throughout the world, as the sun begins to melt behind the horizon and the last vestiges of light give way to the shroud of darkness, the whole landscape seems to transform. What could be considered to most a colorful and enriching experience during the day, would slowly morph into something so much more. Perhaps not as vibrant to the eye as one would normally perceive, but rather the other senses are opened up to new experiences of which could be found lurking in the shadows. Within the urban playground of New York City's Five Boroughs, a place just below the surface of the normal psyche, a "Shadowland" resides, perceived under the light of the moon -from dusk 'til dawn- and only to those individuals brought into its fold. Normal humans live out their lives on a daily basis, many never knowing about the otherworldly existence. But it has been there long before the settlement of man, and it will no doubt be there at their extinction. The Shadowland is but a mirror image of the realm it resides in, but much more exotic yet void of natural color, where just about anything you can imagine may be procured, and where shapeshifting creatures known as "Changelings" exist, serving or -sometimes- enslaving humans for their own interests. Residentials, businesses, and a myriad of other establishments are a secret home to these creatures, but one doesn't simply waltz unknowingly into this realm. No. These select humans must be invited by a creature who visits the mortal realm under the guise of humanity, but actually lives in the Shadowland, which then reveals their true form. For the most part, those humans fortunate -unfortunate?- enough to have delved into the ancient, secretive society of the Underworld and are allowed to return to the mortal plane, are stripped of any recollection of where they had been. A void in their memory, which other memories quickly collapse onto, covering any trace of memory loss and maintaining the integrity of the Changelings realm. However, there are those who carry with them a piece of the Shadowland. A fragmental memory you could even call it, and something that, while isn't wholly apparent to the host, conjures up flashes of the otherworld whether in dreams, or brief waking glimpses. Generally, these mortals are hunted down by a Shadowland "memory plucker", pulling just enough from the individual to satisfy their mission, because anything more may cause the target to fall into insanity or worse, death. If all is successful, then there is nothing more to do, however, if the secrecy of the Shadowland is compromised in any way, or the rare death of a mortal caused by removing memories does occur, it is up to an appointed "Fixer" to clear up any loose ends. Fixers were generally those humans who, for one reason or another, proved their loyalty to those within the Shadowland, and could be trusted to assist in keeping its anonymity within a certain region of the mortal plane. The title of "Fixer" can be given to any human, in any walk of life or profession, but is generally bestowed upon those who have contacts and influence within governmental and local agencies to call upon for assistance. Each Fixer's own memories and knowledge of the Shadowlands existence are slim to none, believing rather that they work for an underground organization who pays them well enough to keep their affairs in line. No questions asked.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell The day was...dull. Olivia hated dull days. They always went by so slowly. No matter how many things she got done and how productive she was, the clock always felt like it was ticking by at a snail's pace. And no matter what she did to keep busy, the clock would not change how fast it was going. Then there was there was the fact that the reason Olivia was even a pawn shop owner in New York City was for the interesting bits of life that managed to find it's way to her shop. Like the couples that would barge in before closing in a rush to buy whatever piece of jewelry she had to offer so they could elope. Or the teenagers that wandered in thinking the shop would be a good place to practice their stealing. She even enjoyed the angry strangers that would come along with stories of how a family member pawned something of theirs. Today, the customers were normal. No new stories to share and definitely nothing interesting about them make the day good or bad. At the moment, Olivia was taking advantage of the dull and quiet day to organize her inventory. She was rather particular about the way she presented her shop. She wanted her customers to feel comfortable, while also keeping her shop spotless and items placed exactly right. Olivia somehow managed to keep the shop from looking like an indoor garage sale, which she thought was a pretty impressive feat, though she had her doubts others saw it that way. Olivia looked at the clock. An hour before closing. She gave an audible sigh and placed another old book on the shelf. At least the day was almost done.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The knock at the window went unheard a few times, along with the muffled voice on the other side, which was anything but pleased. A sharp tap on the glass with the tip of a 9mm handgun definitely did the trick though, as the short-haired driver awoke from a dead sleep, their eyes opening wide to see the man in a navy blue business suit standing outside. "Shit…" The driver grunted under their breath as tired eyes were rubbed under black RayBans, enough for the mascara around sky blue eyes to smear just a little against olive-toned skin. "Roll down the fuckin' window." The muffled -but understood- voice of the other demanded, surveying the area for a moment before looking back at the driver, who was adjusting their black, tattered motorcycle jacket which smelled of old leather and motor oil. "Now." "Okay, okay, chill man." The driver mumbled as they cranked the window all the way down. There were very little modern amenities with the car, which was a sleek black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Rebuilt by the driver over the course of several years, from junk, to a stylish piece of art, and a beast of an eight-cylinder engine. Most of what was used were refurbished, but original, parts which were hard enough to come by. All in all, it was the most prized possession of the one driving it. It was definitely considered their baby. "I assume you missed the three phone calls and several text messages?" The man asked, his voice stern as though being reprimanded by a disapproving father. The other looked down at their phone and realized it was true. "Look, I'm sor-" "We don't need your excuses, Joss." The man leaned over with a hand propped on the door, and adjusted his eyeglasses. "But you need to get your shit together or you're out, capisce?" Working for an Italian crime family in New York City felt like working for all the cliche mobster films rolled in one. Sure, they treated you well when you did your job, but you had to endure some of the oddest characters. Some worse than others. This guy, however, was more or less in the middle of that spectrum, but Joss knew there were no real friends in their line of work, just assholes and lesser assholes. "Yeah, I get it." They signed, lighting up a cigarette that had been sitting on the dash for awhile, and taking a long drag." "Jesus girl, why do you still smoke those things. Don't you know they can kill ya?" The older man smirked, his yellowed tobacco-stained teeth peaking through dark lips. " 'They.' 'Them.' 'Driver.' Or just call me by my name." Joss interjected. "What?" "Don't call me 'girl'." The other said, blowing smoke out the window and into the man's face. "Fuck's sake, yeah, I forgot about that 'non-binary' bullshit." The man shook his head. "Look, I'll call you whatever you want as long as you're on time tonight. Remember. Sonny's over on twenty-third. Eleven sharp." And with that, the man tapped the hood of the car and walked away across the street, disappearing around a corner. Joss checked the time, barely quarter to eight in the morning, so still plenty of time to grab some breakfast, head home and shower, and possibly sleep off the rest of the lingering hangover from the night before. The engine roared to life, and moments later, the car and driver were gone.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s>	<\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s>
<\|description\|>Joss Age: 27 Occupation: Driver/ Amateur Mechanic / Appointed "Fixer" Personality Traits: Introverted \| Friendly \| Flirtatious (with certain people) \| Risk-taker \| Addiction (pain meds from an accident)</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s> <\|message\|>Joss For a moment, Joss was taken aback by Olivia's coldness, wondering what in the hell could be so important that conversing with a friend would be a distraction? Of course, they normally thought such things, and shrugged it off as self-esteem issues or simply bad timing. However, it wasn't always like that, not from what the Driver ever remembered. It seemed like within the last year or so, Olivia had become more of a reclusive, and less interested anything else but her work. "Look, you don't have to go, it's no bother." Joss said in a hurry, noticing the girl across the table gathering up her papers and other supplies. "You're not leaving already? I just got here. Well, can I at least walk you out?" The breakfast sandwich all but disappeared into their mouth at the end of the question, not wanting a missed opportunity with a friend. "Um, how about I give you a ride somewhere?" Joss took a big gulp of coffee to wash down the remaining food.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia paused at the question of getting a ride. She could use that. Her first collection had grown quite big. She had items she had to bring back home along with all of these contracts that had to be dealt with. It was a lot and the task of hauling had started to get kind of daunting. It would be much easier if she had a car. "I'm just going across the street," Olivia pointed to her pawn shop that hardly required a decent walk to get there, much less a drive. She pulled her hair back down to cover up the slight point in her ears again, glad she's have a way home to fix the small flaws starting to show in her glamour. She gave Joss a smile, probably the first on in a long time. Olivia realized it was probably just going to encourage them to keep trying to hang out, but she was prepared to take that consequence. "But I do have somewhere to go after I close up today. A ride would be nice, if that's not too much of a bother."</s>	<\|message\|>Joss Their face lit up with excitement when Olivia mentioned giving them a ride later that day. "Of course I can help you!" Joss exclaimed, just about loud enough to make a few heads turn from other tables across the dining area. "I mean, it has been forever since we actually got to hang out, so I have no problem with that." In their overly enthusiastic moment, something was off just a bit. "Wait, um, what time do you need a ride tonight?" They remembered that they had to be at Sonny's down on Twenty-third at eleven, but there's no way that Olivia would need a ride that late. Was there? The Italian restaurant Joss had to stop off at was only about fifteen minutes away so it wouldn't be a big deal either way. "You know what, we can make it work. I'm here for you, Liv, you know this." The Driver smiled, reaching across the table hoping to hold the hand of her friend. A friend they liked for a long time but wasn't up-front enough to tell her how they really felt about her. Joss wanted something more, but also, didn't want to rush it.</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Campbell Age: 29 Occupation: Pawnshop Owner Personality Traits: Cold \| Animal Lover (when no one is looking) \| Straight to the point \| Neat Freak</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell The day was...dull. Olivia hated dull days. They always went by so slowly. No matter how many things she got done and how productive she was, the clock always felt like it was ticking by at a snail's pace. And no matter what she did to keep busy, the clock would not change how fast it was going. Then there was there was the fact that the reason Olivia was even a pawn shop owner in New York City was for the interesting bits of life that managed to find it's way to her shop. Like the couples that would barge in before closing in a rush to buy whatever piece of jewelry she had to offer so they could elope. Or the teenagers that wandered in thinking the shop would be a good place to practice their stealing. She even enjoyed the angry strangers that would come along with stories of how a family member pawned something of theirs. Today, the customers were normal. No new stories to share and definitely nothing interesting about them make the day good or bad. At the moment, Olivia was taking advantage of the dull and quiet day to organize her inventory. She was rather particular about the way she presented her shop. She wanted her customers to feel comfortable, while also keeping her shop spotless and items placed exactly right. Olivia somehow managed to keep the shop from looking like an indoor garage sale, which she thought was a pretty impressive feat, though she had her doubts others saw it that way. Olivia looked at the clock. An hour before closing. She gave an audible sigh and placed another old book on the shelf. At least the day was almost done.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The knock at the window went unheard a few times, along with the muffled voice on the other side, which was anything but pleased. A sharp tap on the glass with the tip of a 9mm handgun definitely did the trick though, as the short-haired driver awoke from a dead sleep, their eyes opening wide to see the man in a navy blue business suit standing outside. "Shit…" The driver grunted under their breath as tired eyes were rubbed under black RayBans, enough for the mascara around sky blue eyes to smear just a little against olive-toned skin. "Roll down the fuckin' window." The muffled -but understood- voice of the other demanded, surveying the area for a moment before looking back at the driver, who was adjusting their black, tattered motorcycle jacket which smelled of old leather and motor oil. "Now." "Okay, okay, chill man." The driver mumbled as they cranked the window all the way down. There were very little modern amenities with the car, which was a sleek black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Rebuilt by the driver over the course of several years, from junk, to a stylish piece of art, and a beast of an eight-cylinder engine. Most of what was used were refurbished, but original, parts which were hard enough to come by. All in all, it was the most prized possession of the one driving it. It was definitely considered their baby. "I assume you missed the three phone calls and several text messages?" The man asked, his voice stern as though being reprimanded by a disapproving father. The other looked down at their phone and realized it was true. "Look, I'm sor-" "We don't need your excuses, Joss." The man leaned over with a hand propped on the door, and adjusted his eyeglasses. "But you need to get your shit together or you're out, capisce?" Working for an Italian crime family in New York City felt like working for all the cliche mobster films rolled in one. Sure, they treated you well when you did your job, but you had to endure some of the oddest characters. Some worse than others. This guy, however, was more or less in the middle of that spectrum, but Joss knew there were no real friends in their line of work, just assholes and lesser assholes. "Yeah, I get it." They signed, lighting up a cigarette that had been sitting on the dash for awhile, and taking a long drag." "Jesus girl, why do you still smoke those things. Don't you know they can kill ya?" The older man smirked, his yellowed tobacco-stained teeth peaking through dark lips. " 'They.' 'Them.' 'Driver.' Or just call me by my name." Joss interjected. "What?" "Don't call me 'girl'." The other said, blowing smoke out the window and into the man's face. "Fuck's sake, yeah, I forgot about that 'non-binary' bullshit." The man shook his head. "Look, I'll call you whatever you want as long as you're on time tonight. Remember. Sonny's over on twenty-third. Eleven sharp." And with that, the man tapped the hood of the car and walked away across the street, disappearing around a corner. Joss checked the time, barely quarter to eight in the morning, so still plenty of time to grab some breakfast, head home and shower, and possibly sleep off the rest of the lingering hangover from the night before. The engine roared to life, and moments later, the car and driver were gone.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Campbell Age: 29 Occupation: Pawnshop Owner Personality Traits: Cold \| Animal Lover (when no one is looking) \| Straight to the point \| Neat Freak</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s> <\|message\|>Joss For a moment, Joss was taken aback by Olivia's coldness, wondering what in the hell could be so important that conversing with a friend would be a distraction? Of course, they normally thought such things, and shrugged it off as self-esteem issues or simply bad timing. However, it wasn't always like that, not from what the Driver ever remembered. It seemed like within the last year or so, Olivia had become more of a reclusive, and less interested anything else but her work. "Look, you don't have to go, it's no bother." Joss said in a hurry, noticing the girl across the table gathering up her papers and other supplies. "You're not leaving already? I just got here. Well, can I at least walk you out?" The breakfast sandwich all but disappeared into their mouth at the end of the question, not wanting a missed opportunity with a friend. "Um, how about I give you a ride somewhere?" Joss took a big gulp of coffee to wash down the remaining food.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia paused at the question of getting a ride. She could use that. Her first collection had grown quite big. She had items she had to bring back home along with all of these contracts that had to be dealt with. It was a lot and the task of hauling had started to get kind of daunting. It would be much easier if she had a car. "I'm just going across the street," Olivia pointed to her pawn shop that hardly required a decent walk to get there, much less a drive. She pulled her hair back down to cover up the slight point in her ears again, glad she's have a way home to fix the small flaws starting to show in her glamour. She gave Joss a smile, probably the first on in a long time. Olivia realized it was probably just going to encourage them to keep trying to hang out, but she was prepared to take that consequence. "But I do have somewhere to go after I close up today. A ride would be nice, if that's not too much of a bother."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Their face lit up with excitement when Olivia mentioned giving them a ride later that day. "Of course I can help you!" Joss exclaimed, just about loud enough to make a few heads turn from other tables across the dining area. "I mean, it has been forever since we actually got to hang out, so I have no problem with that." In their overly enthusiastic moment, something was off just a bit. "Wait, um, what time do you need a ride tonight?" They remembered that they had to be at Sonny's down on Twenty-third at eleven, but there's no way that Olivia would need a ride that late. Was there? The Italian restaurant Joss had to stop off at was only about fifteen minutes away so it wouldn't be a big deal either way. "You know what, we can make it work. I'm here for you, Liv, you know this." The Driver smiled, reaching across the table hoping to hold the hand of her friend. A friend they liked for a long time but wasn't up-front enough to tell her how they really felt about her. Joss wanted something more, but also, didn't want to rush it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia sighed and made a big effort not to roll her eyes when Joss got excited over the simple favor she asked of them. She thought about backing out and just walking, but what was done was done. It would be harder now to take it away. Besides, it would be a lot easier to go by car. She had a lot of stuff to get over there. And perhaps it'd be easier to get rid of Joss if she just kept using them for favors. At some point a human would realize they were being used, right? "Just meet me outside the shop around ten, alright?" Olivia kept her voice down in hopes to get Joss to pull back the enthusiasm. "And I need your trunk to be empty. I have a lot of things to haul over."</s>
<\|description\|>Kingdom of Hispalis Name of Leader: King Charles XII Philip Age: 36 National Capital: Toletum (in Emerita) National Currency: Oro National Languages: Hispalian Nation Claim 1: Vaconia 2: Bracara 3: Emerita 4: Cesaracosta 5: Barcino 6: Carthago 7: Malaca Nation Demographics Nation Size: 7 Population: 10 Homogeneity: 8 Colonial Demographics Colonial Holdings: 1 Colonial Stability: 4 Colonial Influence: 3 Army Infantry Strength: 7 Infantry Quality: 8 Infantry Logistics: 8 Cavalry Strength: 1 Cavalry Quality: 2 Cavalry Logistics: 1 Artillery Strength: 5 Artillery Quality: 5 Artillery Logistics: 5 Army Commander Quality: 7 Navy Ship of the Line Strength: 4 Ship of the Line Quality: 4 Ship of the Line Logistics: 4 Cruiser Strength: 1 Cruiser Quality: 1 Cruiser Logistics: 1 Naval Commander Quality: 3 Economics Development of Low Industry: 10 Development of Middle Industry: 10 Development of High Industry: 10</s> <\|message\|>The Empire of Khazaria The Winter Palace at the city of Mel-Izar was turning into a rather busy place. The bells of war had been called all over the country and now it seemed that another front was about to open. To the south, the long-standing rivals of Khazaria, Komentiolos, had begun their naval operations over the black sea. Waiting for the results was stressful enough for the ex-imperial regent, Sevil Macar but it seemed that the sixteen-year-old. Şahin Macar remained calm over this throne waiting for the reports both from the west and south, his mind had turned into an incognita for most but not for Sevil, the aunt that had raised him. She was quick to recognize that the true face of the Emperor was that of a young emperor, excited to prove his worth yet nervous to fail in the early steps that could have him labeled for the entirety of his reign. A defeat was not allowed for him and his pride, when he gave the order to Alp Tarkhan to attack the western areas with impunity it was quite clear that he sought glory and prestige as the ruler of his kingdom should succeed. But at the same time, he worried over a possible defeat of the coalition army to the west. It was impossible to tell by the reports, just how much Alp Tarkhan was collaborating with his allies and only seeking glory for himself rather than trying to actually win the war. One of Sahin's fingers constantly tapped the arm side of his throne, he was anxiously waiting for the report that Alp Tarkhan had promised would arrive soon and two weeks had passed and nothing had been sent. Had Alp Tarkhan been defeated and his army routed so that the news would probably take far longer to get through the wartorn region of the Dorist province. It made him smile though, that a war begun with a provocation by the Dorist had turned so sour to them, rallied the eastern neighbors and probably secured another hundred years of peace between Stevata, Teclav and Khazaria. A couple of servants beverages to the young Emperor and he drank them graciously, it helped cool his head off. He looked at his aunt and nodded, thanking her for the gesture. It was already the afternoon and it was about time to take a bath, the Emperor was thinking of retiring from his throne room in the winter palace for the day, perhaps tomorrow would bring the reports he sought so much or perhaps not. It was then that footsteps of metal Khazarian boots could be heard coming from the hallway, Sahin macar leaned his back on his throne preparing himself for whatever was to come. This could be an early victory or defeat depending on just how well Alp Tarkhan had worded the letter addressed to him. The guards opened the door and the messenger the Emperor had sent to Alp Tarkhan could be seen. He bowed to the Emperor and then approached him, leaving the message on the hands of Imperial Regent Sevil Macar, who then passed it to the young emperor. The messenger respectfully retreated back waiting for the Emperor to speak, his aunt waiting for him to read it and then pass judgment. But her eyes were far focused on his facial gestures, something that could tell more than a thousand words in circumstances like this. "It is done." The Emperor stood up after reading the report, leaving the report on the experienced hands of his aunt. "Alp Tarkhan has been victorious!" He said rallying the cheers of his bureaucracy, servants and the guardsmen. It was tradition to always cheer a victory and it was the Emperor's judgement to say if a battle was a victory or not, but it seemed that the conditions on the front had stabilized and for the better. One of the Dorist's armies had been defeated on the field, while casualties had been inflicted upon his own forces it was expected that the Khazarian footmen wouldn't perform as well as its cavalry or their Dorist counterparts. "It is certainly a victory." Confirmed Sevil, the Emperor's aunt with a nod of her head. Her approval gave the whole court a sense of relief. "But it won't be much so for the sons, brothers, and fathers who were sent to the battle." She finished with those words, the Emperor glaring at her trying to understand her but finally doing so and instead of minimizing the death of his subjects, he remembered the great sacrifices that past emperors had also taken to ensure that their subjects had not suffered as much. "You are right, the soldiers who have fallen in this battle are just as important as any other of my subjects, they deserve a propel rest with the great sky father. I am sure that the pensions we pay to windows and orphans will get to the families of the fallen. They have done their part for the Empire and I can only thank them for that with shiny coins and pretty words.." He finished, realizing that just as his mother and father had died because of fate, the bodies littering the fields had also died because of the pettiness of fate. He calmed himself though and he knew that the war wasn't yet over. Two Dorist armies remained to the west and the navy of Komentiolos had been hurting trade and commerce through their raiding and letters of marque. But the navy of Khazaria had yet to fulfill its potential and much like the army, it still needed years of training and preparedness to fulfill the security needs of his nation. The war had also begun to drain the national treasuries, time would be needed to solve all those issues but the backstabbers of the Komentiolos true nature could finally be seen. "Anyways. This victory is enough for us at the moment, it is time to rally help from the south and who else that our long-standing friends to the south. We had indeed promised to respect their neutrality out of respect for their marriage ties with their neighbors to the west. But that was for the conflict with Dorist, this time the hidden dagger of Komentiolos has struck us like that of an opportunist crow looking for meat. But they won't find any rotten meat in our empire! and less without allies to support us. They will pay the price of this affront with interest." The speech of the emperor roused another cheer from the nobles within the court and his officers. "Bring me a scribe. I want this message immediately sent to the king of Paranas."</s> <\|message\|>The Grimhout Empire Arch-Duke Jean-Baptise Dervau closed his eyes, feeling the roll of the ship beneath him and letting the spray of the sea wash over him. The sun had made a rare appearance over the channel, and Jean-Baptiste could feel the warmth of it on his face. It had been too long since he was last at sea, he missed the freedom of it. Even though, the weight of ruling the empire weighed less on his shoulders, and for a moment, he was just a boy again. But it was only a moment, and as he opened his eyes again, the significance of his position came rushing back. The coastline of Kehsi stretched out before him, drawing closer with every passing moment. Jean-Baptiste had envisioned taking this voyage before, but back then he had been a reckless teenager, envisioning himself at the head of a fleet. Turning away from the approaching shore, Jean-Baptiste allowed himself a smile at how far reality was from his fantasy. 'Tigre' was a formidable ship in her own right, but she was taking the journey alone, a flag of diplomacy flying from her mainmast rather than one of war. Jean-Baptiste had grown up hearing stories of the countless wars between Grimhout and Kehsi, and yet now he stood upon a ship sailing into the very heart of Kehsi. If his journey was successful, those wars would remain firmly in the past, and perhaps both nations could finally begin to heal those old wounds. The Archduke found his gaze drifting back towards the distant shoreline of his own nation, and for a moment, he questioned his own actions. He was proud to call Christophe his son, and he was under no illusions about his own mortality, but leaving his son as the de facto ruler of the Empire in his absence... Was it too much to thrust upon the young man's shoulders? As if on cue, Jean-Baptiste heard the man standing next to him shift on his feet, and felt a hand on his shoulder. Tearing his eyes away from the shores of Grimhout, Jean-Baptiste glanced into the face of his brother, and saw a wry smile on the other man's face. "I know that face. You shouldn't worry so much. Christophe is a good man, and besides, Roseline will keep him in line. She has plenty of experience with that!" Jean-Baptiste felt the worry lifting off him as he smiled. It had been Roseline's idea to bring Marc-Antoine with him on the diplomatic mission, and he was already glad that he had listened. The brothers had grown up together, and they always seemed to know what the other one was thinking. While Charles was the care-free charmer, Marc-Antoine had always had his head screwed on right, and Jean-Baptiste had found himself coming to his youngest brother for advice more times than he could count. His mission was taking him into uncharted territory, and he could think of few men that he would rather by his side. "Thank you, brother. But it is not only Christophe I am worried for." For an instant, the smile on Marc-Antoine's face faltered, and he turned to look towards the coastline of Kehsi. There was a brief moment of silence as the two brothers both watched the ancient enemy draw closer. The task that lay before them was one that their ancestors had always fallen short of. Could they succeed where so many others had failed?</s>	<\|message\|>Kingdom of Hispalis The harsh cacophony of agitated water and grinding steel filled the air in a largely empty room with two notable excepts, a metallic hunk of animated iron in the middle and several men standing around it. While it was an unsightly object... the men in the room knew the potential value that such an object could have as it made repetitive movements. That was the key... it was a tireless metal beast of repetition. It did not have to rest. It did not sleep. It did not stop. It only had to eat. As long as the fires were fueled with coal, the engine would not stop. Day and night, it would continue its repetition. Grueling, repetitive manual labor could be replaced. Hispalis was on the verge of a new revolution. Yet, the King of Hispalis kept his excitement tempered. The engine worked. It worked TOO well. It had the potential to disturb the jobs and livelihoods of thousands if not millions. Millers, weavers... and more could find themselves replaced by the 'machine'. Productive citizens were a foundation of a nation, and the engine threatened to disturb it if they were too careless with the implementation of the machine. Charles looked to the creator, Julio Vera, and said "Your ingenuity and resourcefulness are a treasure to the nation. Mr. Vera, you will hear from me soon. In the decades to come, your work may span entire cities if not the entire country. I will see to it, but first we must test the engine and see how economically viable it is in commercial use. Until then, farewell and continue to be a shining paragon of Hispalis ingenuity." --- King Charles looked at the reports from the growing wars to the east. It was a scary fact and statistic to read, yet he knew that for the people who lived there that the horrors of war had reared its ugly head. Perhaps... it could have been avoided, but by now it was clearly too late. He prayed that the conflict would end swiftly and that despite all the bloodshed that it would not be in complete vain. "...And when the burning moment breaks, And all things else are out of mind, And only joy of battle takes Him by the throat and makes him blind, Through joy and blindness he shall know, Not caring much to know, that still Nor lead nor steel shall reach him, so That it be not the Destined Will. The thundering line of battle stands, And in the air Death moans and sings; But Day shall clasp him with strong hands, And Night shall fold him in soft wings."</s>
<\|description\|>Felix Jones Age: 10 (Born: 24 Feb) ID Number: MY-1801-FJ Nationality: Australian Appearance: MY-1801-FJ is a young boy of Chinese-Australian descent with straight black hair and brown eyes. His physical characteristics and build are all around average for his age, though he is marginally smaller than the norm, coming in at only 136cm tall and weighing 31kg. MY-1801-FJ wears his hair long and has opted to wear the female inmate uniform, though it is unclear whether this has anything to do with gender identity as he has had little exposure to social conventions beyond the confines of Facility B. Background: At age 2 MY-1801-FJ was pulled out from under the wreckage of a detached semi-trailer in Australia, entirely uninjured, in an accident that killed both his parents. His miraculous survival gained news attention at the time and the suspicious circumstances thereof quickly attracted the attention of the Ward, under the suspicion of an anomalous ability. Sure enough, the subsequent forensic investigation was able to quickly prove the impossibility of MY-1801-FJ's survival and without any remaining legal guardians, he was quickly brought into Facility B. MY-1801-FJ has been exceptionally well behaved throughout his childhood in Facility B and has complied with most tests as to his anomalous abilities, save for those that would result in extensive damage to his body or which involve the application of fire, both of which he has developed a strong aversion to. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subject seems to dislike using of his anomalous ability as well as the presence of particularly high-temperature heat sources]. Outside of testing, MY-1801-FJ spent most of his time in Facility B either withdrawn into his head or receiving a basic education from facility staff. Powers: MY-1801-FJ possesses the ability to degenerate and regenerate his cellular material. Degeneration - Any cellular material produced by MY-1801-FJ body will begin to degenerate roughly 1 second after being damaged or separated from the body, disappearing from the outside-in at a rate of around 3cm/sec. The degeneration process generates a relatively large amount of heat, roughly 14.1 kJ/in³ degenerated, this heat is suspected to be the product of inefficiencies in the degeneration process. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subject can be injured by the heat he generates and in cases involving extensive damage this may develop into a feedback loop wherein the damage from the heat generated by the Subject's degeneration exceeds their regenerative capabilities (See Subject Experiment 34 Incident Log). Under no circumstances are tests to be conducted on Subject without access to some means of external cooling]. Regeneration - MY-1801-FJ regenerates from any physical damage to or removal of his living cells by any means other than his body's natural biological processes at a rate of roughly 3.6cm/sec from any damaged surface. There has been no observed limit to the amount that MY-1801-FJ can regenerate over a given period of time, however, he will stop regenerating should the total mass of all his non-degenerated tissue (both body parts and dead tissues yet to degenerate) exceed around twice his normal body weight. It is believed that MY-1801-FJ regenerative abilities are fuelled by his degenerated biomass, however, this has yet to be proven. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subjects regenerative abilities have been confirmed not to trigger as a result of suffocation, non-physical toxins or starvation, special clearance is required for further testing into these matters]. Privileges: * Stuffed Toy: A stuffed toy brought with MY-1801-FJ when he first entered the facility. * Educational Materials: MY-1801-FJ has been provided with standard educational materials and is scheduled for lessons with containment staff bi-weekly. * Desk: MY-1801-FJ has been provided with a desk and chair. [SUBJECT NOTE: Despite usually excellent subject corporation, MY-1801-FJ seems reluctant to request for anything by way of privileges].</s> <\|message\|>Seo-Ra Han (Seora) Seo-Ra Han [FR-2164-SRH] Interacting with: @Rabidporcupine@duskshine749 Location: Red Security Wards Hallway, Facility B --- She finally received an answer. Unless the other voice she had heard faintly in the distance, this one was much closer, and was a whole lot closer as it communicated in English. Trying her best to locate the owner of the voice, she turned and swiveled until she found her eyes on an extremely tall individual. The man's skin tone was considerably darker than hers, with a strong greyish hue to it. He stood more than double her height and was pretty much a giant in pretty much every single way. He was big. Big and muscular. If anything screamed giant warrior, this was pretty much it. Give him a giant club, and he was as close as one could possibly get to resembling one of the giant was one of the many fantasy novels she'd read before. The specifics were lost to her, but this much she knew. The messy medium length hair that topped his head was dark brown, and any attempts to figure out his race and nationality were unsuccessful. She'd also noticed that the clothing he wore was similar to hers, just a whole lot bigger to fit his giant frame. He also had the collar on his neck and the same red patch she had on her. If she maintained her gaze any longer at the giant, it would be impossible to deny that she was staring, but in her defense, there was no one else around and she was just glad to see someone else around at the moment. The answer to that came almost immediately, as another individual came in to join the moment. Just a while ago, there was none, and now there were two. It was so rather quickly how things have turned. The newcomer was also male, and taller than her, but nowhere as tall as the giant. In contrast, his skin was far fairer and paler than the both of them and his blue eyes were unmistakable. His nationality may not be known to her, but she knew that he was a Caucasian. The blue eyes were a dead giveaway. He asked the question to which all of them may have been wondering, and she shook her head to indicate she did not know anything about their current situation. "Unless any of you have a clue of what's happening, we should all go and find out."</s> <\|message\|>Malcolm @Symphoni The giant turned to greet the new arrival. He seemed normal enough, but if the little theory worming it's way into his head was correct, then it was exceedingly possible that this observation would be quite wrong. "Hey... Guy." He said, sending the guy a nod. After another giving him another quick look over, he nodded again, mumbling to himself. "Another red, huh?" As he did so, the man asked if either of them knew what was going on, to which the woman responded by saying that unless he or the guy who first asked had any idea, then they should get moving to find out. However, if his theory was anywhere even close to the truth, then he should definitely mention it now. If he didn't, then they might end up walking blindly into what could very well be an even more dangerous situation than the flickering lights and shit might suggest. "Uh, well, I'm not gonna pretend I know for certain, but I think I might have a theory... or something, I guess." He took a deep breath to steady himself, hoping that this wouldn't go over too badly. "Ok, so from what I can tell, this is some kind of... facility... I think. When I woke up, I was in a cell which I'm guessing was probably built for me, considering how big it was. It was also pretty well furnished, so I don't think it's an actual prison, or at least not a normal one. More like they were trying to encourage me to want to stay there. I'm pretty sure there was probably some way for them to stop me if I didn't though, but whatever, that's not the main point. My guess is this is some kind of facility meant to keep freaks like me here. Probably permanently." Ok, he was beating around the bush. He had to get to the point. "Ok, so it's obvious why I'm here, because... well, look at me. I'm not exactly blending into society any time soon. You guys though... Ok, I'm just gonna come out and ask. Please don't take this the wrong way, but do you guys also have something that makes you... I don't know, not entirely human?"</s> <\|message\|>Stephen Perth He didn't know what brought him back to reality. Perhaps his brain had finally cooled down from the drowsiness of sleep, and had decided that he had had enough of travelling in the dream world. Or it was the unusual air of emptiness that alarmed his body that something wasn't going accordingly. But regardless, the brown-haired man finally exited unconsciousness as he opened his eyes, back to an unfamiliar room. Bare white walls boxed his surroundings, which consisted of a modest desk, dresser, television and a treadmill. The pure simplicity and unbearable dullness of his surroundings soon geared the conclusion that he was in prison. That, and also the fact that... 'What's this bloody thing?' A circular object latched onto the skin of his neck. Its grip was annoyingly tight, but bearable. Who put this on him? Who dared to? And for what reasons? Questions led to another, in perfect accordance to the chain of causality, trying to find the simplest of answers to one of the questions, but as he approached the most basic of information, what he realized was that...he remembered nothing. Not even his name, his family, where he came from, or better yet what was the place he is currently in. His mind was eerily blank. This strange feeling, this definitely wasn't normal. How could he know nothing of anything? Was this supposed to be a dream? Was he still asleep? He lifted himself upright as he swung his legs around down onto the floor. The ice cold floor that made his feet cringe also made him realize that this was actually reality. He wasn't dreaming. He was now in some sort of prison, in a grey garment with a blue tag on it, and he had no idea what was going on. 'I need some water.' His throat was torturously dry from the deep sleep he had. With a quick swallow, he let out a cough for the throat to clear itself. A white puff of smoke suddenly rushed out of his mouth like a volcano. The sudden appearance of such anomaly made him shut his mouth immediately. It wasn't really smoke. A slap of his hand on the lingering cloud revealed that this was merely steam. A thick layer for sure. Oh yeah...his memories began to slowly recover. Just a little, enough to remember that he did possess this strange ability to create these weird harmless mist. Looking around the room, he also remembered the bonsai tree. Oh how he loved to look at it, watch the light go on and off. The hand exerciser and the treadmill, in which he remembered using. So there definitely was something that he remembered, that was for sure. Finally, he stood up, on planet Earth in what it felt like forever since. He'd probably need a bit of time before he could be perfectly active, but he wasn't willing to wait. His curiosity was itching him. And so he made his way to the opened door. Peeking his head slowly outside, he noticed two other men not too far from his location, talking about something. Oh good, they probably know better than he does right now. He waited until his presence caught their attention before saying his greetings. "Hello. Do you guys happen to know what is going on right now?" @ReedeThe23rd</s>	<\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ Even if he could no longer recall it the boy had spent the vast majority of his life in Facility B, to the point where even before he'd lost them his earliest memories were spent surrounded by various anomalous beings within Facility B's stark white halls. Consequently, the boy's idea of what could be considered normal had been stretched to an absolutely absurd degree, so much so that when the boy saw the shadowed figure step out from their room across the hall from him, the boy was neither frightened by its inhuman appearance, nor did he find it at all odd to see such an imposing figure holding such a cute plushie. In fact, in his own mind, the boy could find nothing out of the ordinary about the scene in front of him at all. No, instead what caused the boy to shrink away from the demonic-looking figure, was the sight of it waving at him, years of limited human interaction having conditioned the boy into being shy around those he was unfamiliar with. The boy averted his gaze, letting an awkward silence hang between the pair for several long moments as he fidgeted and tried to work out what to say. Finally, the boy looked back up at the shadowed figure and spoke, "Um… could you please tell me what's going on?", the boy asked, frowning for a moment before adding, "… I think I forgot?". Having asked his question, the boy's shyness subsided, if only a by little, as he stared at the shadowy figure with expectant, hopeful eyes and awaited a response. As needlessly awkward as he'd made the encounter the boy still felt rather pleased with himself for having successfully spoken to an unfamiliar human being, sensing that that was probably some kind of personal achievement for him.</s>
<\|description\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Age: 29 ID Number: MP-1834-JC Nationality: Multiple: Spain, United Kingdom Appearance: MP-1834-JC is a Hispanic male, measuring 169 cm and weighing 76 kg as of [VOID]. MP-1834-JC has curled brown hair down to his temples, brown eyes, and above-average musculature for his age. A red heart shape wrapped in green thorned vines is tattooed on his left upper arm, the vines specifically obscuring the heart across its horizontal center line. A knife is tattooed on to his right forearm, drawn to suggest it is piercing the flesh, complete with blood spilling on to and around the blade. The Spanish text "Bomba de Gasolina" (translating to English as "Petrol Pump" or "Gasoline Pump") is tattooed in Impact font on his abdomen in two separate lines; two black arrows point from either side of the word "Gasolina" toward his genitalia. Background: MP-1834-JC was born on the 8th of December, [VOID] in Ibiza Town on the Spanish island of Ibiza. At age 1, his family moved to the United Kingdom, taking residence in central London for work-related reasons. MP-1834-JC received average education and accommodation throughout his early life, but is noted to have been involved in gang activity as young as fifteen, and did not pursue education beyond A-levels, instead becoming further involved with the Hispanic gang [VOID] (see Acquisition). Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MP-1834-JC on [VOID] due to inter-gang violence against [VOID] (see Acquisition). He was apprehended shortly thereafter, putting up relatively little resistance due to [VOID], and initially contained as a Blue security threat, but was reassessed as a Purple security threat after [VOID] (see Addendum 1). Aggression against staff has notably increased since then, and MP-1834-JC refuses to clarify when he first became aware of his anomalous properties. Powers: Auto-Liquefaction \|\| MP-1834-JC is able to discorporate his body into an increasingly liquidous mass, described by the subject as a sensation of "melting". MP-1834-JC can fully discorporate into a flexible gel-like state over the course of forty five seconds, and into a water-like state over the course of ninety seconds, with selective control over which portions of his body discorporate first if desired; he experiences no apparent pain or harm from this process, and can reverse the discorporation at will, reverting to his standard appearance over the same timeframes as described above. MP-1834-JC loses muscular control as liquefaction increases, being notably impaired whilst partially molten and unable to move when fully liquefied, but retains sensory input and becomes increasingly able to alter his form regardless of bodily structure at greater levels of discorporation; greater discorporation also results in greater resilience to kinetic force, and small physical injuries can be erased through a process of partial dissolution and reformation, though severe injuries such as extensive burns and substantial head or neck trauma remain potentially life-threatening. Privileges: * Dresser, inside face oriented toward camera * Pull-up bar, bolted into floor next to dresser SECURITY NOTE: MP-1834-JC is noteworthy for being highly non-cooperative with staff as of [VOID], frequently refusing to participate in testing except under duress, and often citing his desire to escape Facility B. MP-1834-JC is not unsocial with fellow subjects, but is prone to sudden bursts of aggression with little apparent provocation, though he is aware that he lacks the ability to significantly harm any staff members without himself risking injury. Consequently, MP-1834-JC's privileges are highly restricted, and should be thoroughly examined for potential escape risks before being allowed.</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @Bartimaeus The alarm woke the girl as it did every morning, though as its sound warbled and petered off, she couldn't help but think that that was unusual and strange. What did it normally sound like though? Why couldn't she remember? For that matter, why couldn't she remember anything? She laid there in her bed for several minutes just trying to think backwards through her time here, her childhood, her family. All of it came up blank. What small pieces she could pull up were fairly vague. She remembered there being others who look like her. Sisters, maybe? Were they twins? Triplets? She remembered different figures who would come in after the alarm. Who were they? Finally she sat up and looked around the room. The walls were very plain, but it didn't look like a prison cell, if that's what this place was. She had a desk, a bookshelf full of books and a stack of puzzles on top. One puzzle sat partially finished on her desk along with a music box. She picked that up and gave it a wind, and as the music played she smiled. If she was a prisoner, she must be a pretty well behaved one to have been given this stuff. She spotted something else on the desk as well, a small note which read FY-2322-VAM. What did that mean? It must've been pretty important if she'd written it down. It felt familiar. Was it an identifier? Whatever it was, she decided to call herself Vam for now, until she could figure out what her name actually was. She could hear voices in the hallway. Someone else was here. Cautiously she crept towards the door and peeked out into the hall. The shadowy/inky figure there caught her a bit off guard, but she found she somehow wasn't afraid of the strange appearance, as if she was used to seeing that kind of thing. She didn't know who these two were or if she could trust them, but hiding in her room probably wouldn't do her much good, so hesitantly she approached them and gave them a wave.</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos A couple of things caught his attention. First, a yelp as he called out; and then, as he moved toward it with low, concerned muttering, another voice. Muffled, but clearly upset. Clearly wanting out. '...a'ight,' he quietly decided to himself, 'maybe I oughta check things out. They're prolly people like me, right?' "Like him." Immediately, he figured that was wrong. He had some way of working himself, sort of... something that wasn't normal. Right, that might be why he was here. And, for that reason, he figured he should keep that to himself until he had to show it off. But first, the source of the yelp. The door he was pretty sure it came from was open, anyway; stepping to up it, he pushed it open and leaned in, taking a look around the place. It had more stuff in it than where he'd woken up, anyway: dresser, desk, night light, a bookcase, the hell happened with him that meant he didn't have that? Why the fuck didn't he have a bookcase? Whatever motherfucker put him in that prison did him dirty, that was for damn sure! But, clearly there were toys, too, dolls and shit... was this- were there kids in here too? Was that lump under the blanket a little girl? Shit, he didn't want to be a babysitter for some toddler, and he sure as fuck didn't want to be in some place that kept fuckin' children in jail! ...he had a quick think about what to do next outside of the cell. Clearly, there was some reason he was here. If it was that, then maybe he wasn't wrong to start with: maybe this kid, and anyone else in here, also had that, or something like that. So... would the kid go anywhere if he just left them there? Probably not. Which meant he had to be babysit a toddler after all. Fuck him stupid. Sighing aggressively, he moved back into the room, pushing the door wide and leaning against it as he sort of went over what he needed to say. If everyone else was too scared to do anything, then he had to be the guy who made them do things. And for a scared little girl... 'Uh, look, kid,' he began awkwardly, 'I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not the sorta guy who'd hit a child or nothing, you hear?' Shit, this was dumb. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. 'So, err, you know. You need to come outta there, and, like... eh, como digo esto... you know, stuff needs doing, a'ight? And you need to help me out with that, I guess.' Yeah, he was no good with kids. He really wasn't going to be getting any awards for being a great dad here.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Purple Ward Last Recorded Interaction: @BCTheEntity --- As she laid there with the blanket over her head, danger raced through her thoughts. There weren't any specific dangers, the little girl being unable to come up with any, but ever new sound only fueled the fear she was feeling. What was initially just a startle grew more terrifying the longer she hid on the bed. The muffled cries for help from beyond the chamber door down the hall certainly didn't help. The person calling was just so far away that any words he might have cried were muffled into gibberish. More people were awaking since the pitiful alarm sounded through the halls, and the little girl had no idea what to make of it. After what felt like hours passed, the little girl took a peek from under the sheets. The door still loomed ajar, exposed for anyone who would wish to enter. Loose fibers from the blanket made it difficult enough to see if the dim lighting was still too bright. She quickly closed the small opening when she spotted the door moving. Someone had entered the room. Was it the person who called out before so aggressively? Or was it another stranger who wished her harm? Perhaps it was a savior. She did not dare to take another peek lest she give away her position. She clenched when the door reached its limit creaking under the weight of someone leaning against it. She waited for something to happen when the entity that occupied the same room as her began to speak. She opened her eyes. The man's tone of voice was not angry or murderous. It wasn't exactly that of a gentle mother or father, but it matched the words being spoken. When the man ended his attempted dialog of solace, the girl sat up with the blanket pushed away. He seemed genuine about not wanting to hurt her. The little girl relaxed. The man needed help, and she was not sure what she could do, but there seemed to be some trouble, and at the very least, this man was not it. She slid off the bed, and slowly walked up to the man. "I'll help." She said quickly, and clenching her hands together. "I'm sorry I ran. I I didn't know who you were. I don't um…" the little girl swayed a little side to side almost like she was having second thoughts. She still had no idea who this man was. Just a moment ago she was hiding from him like her life depended on it. Not only that, but her memories of basically anything relevant to her situation, or even anything before that eluded her as well. She frowned and then looked back up at the man. "I'll help however I can, but do you know where I am? I can't remember anything."</s>	<\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos So she didn't remember anything either? Figures. He'd remember if he'd ever met a little girl. But then, if he didn't remember her... fuck, weird memory shit was stupid as hell. And it kind of occurred to him that he might be in trouble if he started throwing out swears around the kid, too. Damn. 'Yeah, you and me both,' he shrugged, grimacing. 'I guess we'll have to figure out what's up. First... well, come out in the corridor with me. Take any toys you want, too, I guess.' Motioning for her to follow along, he stepped back out, trying to remember where he'd heard that other voice calling from... was it a fair distance away? Maybe? Shit. And then there were a bunch of other cells... 'Alright, kid, you're gonna need to trust me on this,' he said to her, trying to sound sort of reasonable, 'but I'm gonna go check out where that other voice came from. In the meantime, you look in the other ce- rooms, and see if there's anybody who hasn't come out yet, okay? And... uh... if something tries to get you, you run back to me? Sound like a plan?' The correction about the cells was something he probably didn't need to do, but then if this was a prison, the kid didn't need to know it. Nor did she need to think he was immediately abandoning her. He wasn't some crazy who left kids to die... he didn't think he was, anyway. Had he said "something" earlier? No, that would've scared her, he must've said "somebody"... yeah, that sounded right. "If somebody tries to get you", and so on. Once she'd agreed to that- or hell, if she clung to him like a scared puppy, he wasn't going to handhold her through all of this- he'd start walking off, trying to find where that voice had called out from earlier. If he was right, it was a little ways away... and sure enough, he eventually found a door that was for some reason still closed, and clearly containing somebody who was trying his damndest to get out. 'Ay, mate,' he called through the door, tapping on it to make sure he got the guy's attention. From the glass window looking in, he seemed like... well, a bit of a skinny weirdo. Bicho raro flaco. 'You, uh, need some help? You look like yer stuck in there.'</s>
<\|description\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Age: 29 ID Number: MP-1834-JC Nationality: Multiple: Spain, United Kingdom Appearance: MP-1834-JC is a Hispanic male, measuring 169 cm and weighing 76 kg as of [VOID]. MP-1834-JC has curled brown hair down to his temples, brown eyes, and above-average musculature for his age. A red heart shape wrapped in green thorned vines is tattooed on his left upper arm, the vines specifically obscuring the heart across its horizontal center line. A knife is tattooed on to his right forearm, drawn to suggest it is piercing the flesh, complete with blood spilling on to and around the blade. The Spanish text "Bomba de Gasolina" (translating to English as "Petrol Pump" or "Gasoline Pump") is tattooed in Impact font on his abdomen in two separate lines; two black arrows point from either side of the word "Gasolina" toward his genitalia. Background: MP-1834-JC was born on the 8th of December, [VOID] in Ibiza Town on the Spanish island of Ibiza. At age 1, his family moved to the United Kingdom, taking residence in central London for work-related reasons. MP-1834-JC received average education and accommodation throughout his early life, but is noted to have been involved in gang activity as young as fifteen, and did not pursue education beyond A-levels, instead becoming further involved with the Hispanic gang [VOID] (see Acquisition). Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MP-1834-JC on [VOID] due to inter-gang violence against [VOID] (see Acquisition). He was apprehended shortly thereafter, putting up relatively little resistance due to [VOID], and initially contained as a Blue security threat, but was reassessed as a Purple security threat after [VOID] (see Addendum 1). Aggression against staff has notably increased since then, and MP-1834-JC refuses to clarify when he first became aware of his anomalous properties. Powers: Auto-Liquefaction \|\| MP-1834-JC is able to discorporate his body into an increasingly liquidous mass, described by the subject as a sensation of "melting". MP-1834-JC can fully discorporate into a flexible gel-like state over the course of forty five seconds, and into a water-like state over the course of ninety seconds, with selective control over which portions of his body discorporate first if desired; he experiences no apparent pain or harm from this process, and can reverse the discorporation at will, reverting to his standard appearance over the same timeframes as described above. MP-1834-JC loses muscular control as liquefaction increases, being notably impaired whilst partially molten and unable to move when fully liquefied, but retains sensory input and becomes increasingly able to alter his form regardless of bodily structure at greater levels of discorporation; greater discorporation also results in greater resilience to kinetic force, and small physical injuries can be erased through a process of partial dissolution and reformation, though severe injuries such as extensive burns and substantial head or neck trauma remain potentially life-threatening. Privileges: * Dresser, inside face oriented toward camera * Pull-up bar, bolted into floor next to dresser SECURITY NOTE: MP-1834-JC is noteworthy for being highly non-cooperative with staff as of [VOID], frequently refusing to participate in testing except under duress, and often citing his desire to escape Facility B. MP-1834-JC is not unsocial with fellow subjects, but is prone to sudden bursts of aggression with little apparent provocation, though he is aware that he lacks the ability to significantly harm any staff members without himself risking injury. Consequently, MP-1834-JC's privileges are highly restricted, and should be thoroughly examined for potential escape risks before being allowed.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @AelitaJezebelle@randomness Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- The one who had touched him moved in front of him, but surprisingly nothing more came of it than the sound of a gentle, reassuring voice. Once again, a voice very different from the whispers. ...'Once again'? Uncertainly, the young man slowly lowered the meager shield of limbs he had created for himself, still hazy eyes staring out in confusion past them into a pair of blue ones. These ones did not feel as familiar as the brown ones from before... However, as his gaze flickered haltingly around, he somehow did feel less as though it -whatever it was- had him. But everything was no less wrong. The blue eyes took his hand and told him to come with them... Them? No, it was... a woman, wasn't it? A woman with blue eyes... Why had he thought....? No, what had he thought, again? ...She was telling him to go with her, so surely that was right. Yes, he allowed her to lead him away, just as they always did... they... Yet it felt early, somehow, for that. Didn't it? Wasn't there something that he was supposed to do first? Something... something... The man, the eating man, came into view again, and all at once the awful red came rushing back to him. The blue eyes were leading his body away, down an ever-lengthening tunnel and gradually pulling further and further away from him. Leaving him alone, drawn deeper and deeper into the red. Spiraling slowly down, down, sinking, sucked down toward the cracks below the surface... The whispers were getting loud again. Another touch on his other hand drew him sharply back out, and he might have flinched again had it not been accompanied by the return of the small voice. Well, he gave a much lesser flinch, at least. Looking down, he saw those brown eyes. They matched the blue ones more now, but at least he remembered they were real. They were both real, right? The girl and the woman... ...Weren't they? He hadn't much noticed what she'd said, but neither could he see the red anymore from the direction he was facing, and that was an improvement. In its place, however, were the two clearest thoughts he could remember having yet. The first was the realization that for a moment he'd nearly lost what little of himself he had to spare. This thought swiftly wavered and drifted away, as all other thoughts had up to that point. However, the second and far more unsettling of the two was a lingering one. One which he did not fully understand, yet which filled him with a resurgence of that deep sense of dread. Enough to lead him to staggering unstably as words so clear they hardly seemed like his own cut through the fog of his mind. 'That was close.'</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @Lady Selune@Nyxira The young girl talking to her caught her attention, and she smiled down at her, "Oh? My name?...Well...I actually don't remember my name. I saw a paper in my room that had VAM on it though that looked like some sort of identification, so I suppose you can call me Vam. Dolly's a nice name. It's nice to meet you." Staying in this gore-filled room didn't sound like something she was particularly excited about. If Dolly wanted to stay though, she would. She may not really know the girl, but she was only a child, and she felt obligated to protect her. This guy everyone kept calling Dougie too. He clearly wasn't all here right now, so she felt obligated to protect him too. She watched as the tables were flipped over. It was a relief not to have to keep looking at the bodies, especially for the children not to have to look at them. Though she didn't say anything out loud, internally she was grateful to Adelina for that. She thought for a moment about getting some food for her and her little group, but movement from the man at the table caught her attention. He was writing something, it seemed? She took Dougie's hand again and walked over to see what it was. It made her feel sick to watch him writing with his own blood though, and what he said didn't make it much better. "She...Oh, that's awful!" He must've been in such pain before then! No wonder he'd been eating so messily and wincing. "...How did you avoid...this fate?" she asked, motioning to the carnage around them, "Having your tongue ripped out is awful! I'm sorry that happened, but it seems you somehow avoided worse." She looked around the room for any sort of paper or writing instruments. Surely they could find the guy some better method of communication than his own blood.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Cafeteria Last Recorded Interaction: @AelitaJezebelle@Nyxira@BCTheEntity@duskshine749 --- Dolly sat at the table Blade was laying down the food at. She gave a small smile to Vam and Dougie as they stood nearby, quickly turning her attention again to the food. As she watched, her stomach growled. It was simple cereal and milk, but that didn't matter to Dolly. Dolly grabbed a couple of the bowls and started to pour the cereal for the three of them as Blade looked elsewhere. As she was preparing her meal, some odd sounds came from behind by the other row of tables. Dolly suspected that perhaps someone was choking on their food. Blade's reaction quickly squashed that idea. Dolly's eyes followed Blade as he went over to investigate what was going on. She saw Vam had joined him along with Dougie. Dolly spun around in her chair now more curious as to what was going on. Right then, Blade had called out, beckoning her to join him. Blade called out wanting to know if anyone was sporting a red triangle upon their shirt. She hopped from her seat and joined Blade over by the lone man. Standing next to Blade with the other figure at the table, Dolly noticed the writing upon the mostly clear white surface. Her face scrunched upon reading the sloppy writing. She couldn't help but feel sad for the lone man. She could not imagine what it would be like to lose your tongue, let alone how painful. But the writing also mentioned the red triangle. Dolly didn't give much thought to the clothes she was wearing. Outside of the bands and collar, that is. Did the patches mean anything? Dolly took a look at her blouse, and then up at Blade. She had a purple square as did Blade. Dolly looked at the others. Vam had spoken with Mute and then left in search of something, so Dolly couldn't see her shirt. As for Dougie, he had a… well, Dolly couldn't quite tell if Dougie had a patch. His sweatshirt covered most of his torso and upper body. "Excuse me." Dolly said quietly as she scooted up to him. He still seemed unaware, lost in his own eyes. Whatever he could be thinking eluded Dolly, but she felt that he was perhaps uncomfortable with the situation. Dolly certainly was. As softly as she could, Dolly pulled the collar of Dougie's hoodie to the side, just enough to look at the patch on his shirt. It was also a purple square. "Um, me and Dougie have purple squares." Said Dolly. She fixed Dougie's hoodie as gently as she could, turning around again to face Blade. "Are there other colors?" Just as she asked the question, someone spoke up. Dolly spun around Blade waited for more answers. She watched as a man from one of the other tables came over. It was one of the first people who had entered the cafeteria, and who had come from one of the other halls by himself. He did have a red patch on his shirt, but it was also a square, not a triangle. "But it's not a triangle." Said Dolly thoughtlessly looking up at the man calling himself Red. She wasn't sure of the significance, Red only had one similarity to the figure Mute described. Even so, Dolly was growing increasingly nervous, but she tried her best to hide it. Everyone was here, so there was safety in numbers. Dolly quickly averted her gaze and left the three of them to discuss it. Dolly had moved over to near where the one who threw Blade sat against one of the flipped tables. The boy who Dolly followed in was also with her. They had yellow squares on their shirts. Dolly had absolutely no idea what they meant, but now she knew that the colors had to have meant something. What she was able to figure out at least was that everyone from the same hall had the same colors. All the yellow patches showed up together. She and the others from her hall had purple, and Red was by himself. Dolly walked back up next to blade. "I couldn't find any other red ones. They're all squares. No triangles."</s>	<\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Blade Well, Dolly soundly answered his question, after pouring the cereal and milk and going around looking. Nobody here had a triangle - all squares, including his and Mute's, but they were each squares of different colours. Weird... maybe a triangle meant they were less smart or something? 'Like animals...' he murmured to himself, taking another spoonful of his breakfast. Nice of her to deal with that for the three purples; he made sure to give her a pat on the head for the good work, both investigating and breakfasting. Everyone else seemed occupied - except for Druggie Dougie. He'd stumbled a bit and made some weird groan a few moments before Dolly got back, one of the few noises he'd made up to that point. But why? Was it the blood? If it was anything like with Dolly freaking out before... Whatever. He looked a little more in-there than he had, anyway. Just in case, though, Blade called out 'Ay, Dougie, you back in the real world yet? Your cereal's getting soggy,' trying to get his attention on to the cereal. Fucker needed to eat, too, even if he was having a crash. Heh, he probably had the munchies going, at that.</s>
<\|description\|>Jean De Merwe Age: 25 Years ID Number: MB-1896-JDM Nationality: South African Appearance: MB-1896-JDM is a Caucasian male, measuring 184cm and weighing 153 lbs as of [VOID]. MB-1896-JDM has black hair that falls just above his shoulders, as well as facial hair growing as stubbles both below the nose and above the jawline. MB-1896-JDM has minor scars along his hands and arms as well as dark brown eyes, but otherwise no distinguishing features. MB-1896-JDM wears male clothing. Background: MB-1896-JDM was born on the 25th of February, [VOID] in Lindley, Free State. MB-1896-JDM's early childhood consisted of working on his family's farm with his two elder brothers while also attending the local primary school, living close to the poverty line for most of his life. MB-1896-JDM is currently unsure of when his anomalous nature manifested, claiming to have had it for as long as he could remember, with apparent success controlling his anomalous properties. MB-1896-JDM spent his high school years in a boarding school located in Pretoria and attended [VOID] on a scholarship after graduating and earned a degree in journalism. MB-1896-JDM's anomalous nature remained hidden throughout his education. He is unmarried and doesn't have any children. Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MB-1896-JDM on [VOID] during an incident where [VOID] (See Addendum 3.) MB-1896-JDM fully resisted staff throughout his transportation to Facility B, going out of his way to be difficult. Subject has made a total of two escape attempts thus far, both after a period of compliance. Powers: MB-1896-JDM heals exponentially faster than an average human, the time it takes his injuries to heal varies between a few minutes up to three days depending on the severity of the injury. Furthermore he has the ability to heal the wounds of others by transferring them to himself. Wounds can also be transferred from him unto others. His ability relies on skin to skin contact [SUBJECT NOTE: ENSURE TO NEVER MAKE ANY SKIN-TO-SKIN CONTACT WITH THE SUBJECT]. Ability also extends to minor illnesses such as the common cold, it has yet to be seen what effect it has on major diseases. Using the ability for anything other than minor injuries requires a lot of energy from the subject, resulting in a required resting period that varies in lenght depending on energy used. Privileges: Esure objects can't be used to cause harm. * Flashlight * Two journals * Small bookshelf * 17 books, including, but not limited to, 'Die Buiter' series, Lord of the Rings and 'Koning van Katoren'. * Writing supplies</s> <\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ A young boy awoke sprawled out face-first atop a cheap wire mesh bed. In spite of his uncomfortable resting position, the boy wore a peaceful expression as he attempted to settle himself back into sleep, only for the piercing sound of an alarm to ring out from somewhere outside, its ringing wrenching him from his serenity and into wakefulness. Almost as if on cue the boy's stomach growled, urging him to get up and ready. Wait who? And ready for what? Visibly confused the boy sat up rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, feeling something was off as he noticed the lighting flickered eerily. "Huh? What's going on?", he mumbled to himself, taking a moment to look around the room, surprisingly plain and sparsely furnished for a kid of his age, with little more than a cheap desk and bed. Stranger still was that the room he found himself in seemed entirely unfamiliar to the kid, his frustration and confusion only growing as he tried to search his memories for answers and came up with nothing but haze. Getting up the boy examined himself as best he could in the current conditions, taking note of his surprisingly long black hair and the simple grey dress he wore, entirely devoid of colour save for a single yellow patch. Like everything else he'd encountered since waking up, the boy found even his own appearance strangely unfamiliar and alien. Was that normal? It didn't feel like it… Eventually, with the last of his grogginess overtaken by his confusion, worry and now gradually mounting curiosity, the boy looked towards the door. Maybe there was someone outside who could tell him what was going on or maybe where he was? That seemed pretty likely and it wouldn't hurt to try and find something to eat in the meantime… With that in mind, the boy approached the door, peeking out before tentatively stepping into the space beyond. "Hello? Is anybody there?"</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos The alarm that woke him up was much less of an alarm, and much more of a whinge. Which might be why he didn't immediately react to it. He finally got his eyes open after an extra minute or two, muttering 'Ai, hijo de puta, ¿qué demonios está pasando...?' and blearily shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs and the lingering feeling that something might be wrong after all. Or, at least, different from usual. ...those cobwebs were taking their sweet time getting out. He was almost having a hard time recalling what "usual" was - but given the fact he was in an empty white room, wearing a uniform grey outfit with a swatch of purple on the chest, complete with collars round his neck and wrists, with little but a pull-up bar and dresser in sight- oh, and a camera in one corner... yeah, this was probably a prison. He- What was he in here for? He should know that if he was in prison. And what kind of prison put big old collars and shit round the prisoner's necks? ...what was his name again? 'Ah, shit. It's one of those fuckin' situations.' Not that he could remember what "those fuckin' situations" typically were, but for some reason, it seemed likely that this was one of them. Huffing grumpily, he rolled out of the minimalist bed, checking the uniform he had on again - no name, not number, nothing to say what he was called even as he knew he ought to be called out for it about now - and checked the rest of the room. There was nothing fancy about it, no seams or hidden doors he could take note of, though the main door was clearly open anyway. So, out he went, pushing the heavy slab of rubber-edged steel aside so he could get past. Outside was about as bland as inside. Only difference was, it was a white corridor lined with more doors, instead of a white room. And it wasn't lit very well. All the lights were freaking out, for some reason. Seriously, this was a prison, right? He was pretty sure he knew a prison when he saw one, though he wasn't exactly sure what that meant. Clearly, he wasn't the only prisoner, though... were there normally people to look after the prisoners? And if there were, where were those guys? 'Ay, anyone 'round?' he yelled, wandering down the corridor a bit towards where it... felt, he guessed, like he'd normally need to go. 'If anyone wants to tell me what the fuck's happening, now's the time.' He couldn't help but take note of his voice as he spoke - he assumed it was something related to his skin tone, but he also realised that what he was speaking right now had not been the same as what he'd been speaking when he first woke up. Spitting out a few words in that first language, he was relieved that he at least hadn't lost his ability to speak it, and kept track of where it was different as he muttered to himself. It was, overall, more fluid than the rougher, slouchier tone he had with his second language, as though it wanted to flow more, but it almost seemed angrier as a result? Weird, real weird.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David A sudden sharp sound echoed throughout the room before it suddenly lost life and continued on as a whimper before finally dying completely. The sound was distorted, only a pitiful excuse of what it usually was. Nevertheless, it was enough to stir the little girl from sleep. Slowly opening her eyes, the girl sat up in her bed, the covers sliding off her body. She yawned and rubbed her eyes before looking around her room. Her room? It was a room. And it was a room she occupied. But nothing in it resembled anything she would call hers. In fact, she could not recall what would normally be hers in the first place. Now more awake, the little girl called out. Much like the alarm, her call was barely audible outside the room. Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, the girl looked about the room again. There were few child furnishings, but otherwise the room was bare and dull. Several cameras near the corners of the ceiling faced towards the ground, seemingly without power. At the far side of the room stood an open door, facing an equally blank white wall of the corridor beyond. Not much light illuminated the wall, leaving most of what laid beyond too dark to see. Sliding off the bed, the girl cringed as her bare feet touched the cold concrete floor. Next to the bed were a pair of basic grey shoes without laces. She grabbed them to put on. She stopped initially when she saw the bands around her wrists. Sitting back on the bed, the girl looked at them, and tried to take them off unsuccessfully. She now took notice of the rest of her attire. She was dressed in a simple one-piece dress, grey matching the dull atmosphere of rest of the room. She placed her hands upon the collar around her neck, just as irremovable as the bracelets. Not even recognizing her own clothes anymore, the girl was growing increasingly fearful about where she was or what was going on. She wanted to find a safe place to hide until she could find someone who could help her. Jumping off the bed again, she put on the shoes and creeped to the entrance of the door. It was open, so she could perhaps flee from the captors that held her. She looked out the entrance, seeing the hall was clear in one direction. Before she turned to look the other way, she heard someone call out. The voice was aggressive and it startled the little girl. She yelped and not so quietly ran back into the room diving into the bed and covered herself up. The little girl didn't see who call out, flickering lights and the darkness that it brought helping with that. Perhaps the figure who yelled would pass by and not harm the girl.</s>	<\|message\|>Jean De Merwe It was the blaring of a warbling alarm that drew him back to consciousness with a muttered curse. Rolling over, he tried to ignored it, but as it continued on and sleep was wrenched further and further from him, a sense of...wrongness settled in with each warble. Was it supposed to sound like that? Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groaning as the alarm continued its assault on his ears. "Het daardie vervlakste ding geen einde nie!" Opening his eyes to glare at his surroundings, he was met by the sight of a plain, white room, empty of all but some writing supplies and a tiny flashlight on top of a small bookshelf next to the bed. There couldn't be more than twenty books, a meager excuse of a collection if there ever was one. His apparel wasn't very reassuring either. Grey trousers and shirt with a blue patch on the chest and... WAS HE WEARING A COLLAR?! THE HELL?!! What was going on? Where was this place? It sure wasn't home, that much he knew! Then again...he wasn't exactly sure where that was either... A sickening feeling started to settle in his gut as he attempted to backtrack. Trying to recall anything from his past, his home, his family, his name...he was met only with failure. Head falling into his hands, he allowed himself one minute to mutter every curse in his vocabulary before forcing himself to get it together just as the alarm finally squeaked to a stop. The silence that followed was both eerie and a relief at the same time. Not about to waste any longer on just sitting around, he stood up. Sparing a quick glance at the open door, he made his way to the bookcase. He might as well take stock of his immediate surroundings before heading into even less known territory. The writing supplies proved to be disappointing, seeing as there weren't any pens and the pencils were made out of rubber - a pain for anyone to write with. The lights flickered and he grabbed the flashlight, it may be small with limited range, but it was better than nothing. That just left the books. "Lord of the rings, Koning van Katoren, a world atlas, die nege Buiter boeke, Sense and sensibility, drie Shakespeare's en Terry Pratchett se Mort...well, quality over quantity en als..." Reaching out, he stroked the backs of the books softly. He may not be able to remember his name, but he knew these books, loved each one of them, a clear sign of their importance to him. Fingers landing of one of two unmarked books, he pulled it out and opened it. It appeared to be a journal, the handwriting painfully familiar (his own, maybe?), but the dialect in which it was written... He couldn't place it. He recognized some words and letters, but most of it, while familiar, escaped him. He did see a doodle of what appeared to be a person getting stabbed with a pencil(?) that might explain the rubber, but he couldn't be sure. Not seeing anything else of note, he took a step towards the room's only exit, glanced at the ominous flickering of the lights and the atlas joined the flashlight in his hands. It might just be a book, but it was big and could hit hard, which was better than nothing. "Ek sweer, as een of ander bleddie ongedierte iewers uitspring, gaan ek iemand iets aandoen." Stepping outside, he glanced around the hall. The lights flickered and silence surrounded him. Holding the book at the ready, he started walking down. "Hallo, enigiemand daar? Anybody there?" Hopefully he'll find the exit soon as well as some answers as to what the hell was going on...</s>
<\|description\|>Malcolm Age: Estimated to be somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. Lack of memories makes exact identification difficult. ID Number: MR-2242-M Nationality: MR-2242-M identifies as Canadian, as this is where his memories first begin. True nationality is currently unknown. Appearance: MR-2242-M is a young man of undetermined race, standing at 9'8" and weighing approximately 400 lb. Subject has tan skin, although with a very strong grey tint, and medium length, messy dark brown hair. Subjects eyes are light brown. Subject seems to be extremely fit at any given time despite limited exercise, likely due to any and all fat being consumed through his abilities. Face has seemingly permanent stubble, growing back quickly even when shaved, but slowing exponentially before it can grow longer. Background: Unfortunately, MR-2242-M doesn't actually remember much of anything in terms of his past, or even his original name. His memories start about three and a half years ago, just a few days before his capture by the Facility. Even then, the majority of those memories were of him hiding out in the forest, after his one and only attempt to venture into a town caused the inhabitants to panic. He also has little memory of his capture. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a cave he had claimed for himself, and when he woke up, he was in the room he would come to call home for the next three and a half years. Early on, he was questioned many times and subjected to hundreds upon hundreds of tests, trying to determine his abilities and whether any of his memories remained. When the results proved that none did, his treatment improved drastically, although he is still regularly reminded to inform Facility personnel if he should begin to notice any animalistic impulses, or any faint memories should start to emerge once more. Powers: MR-2242-M is a powerful shapeshifter, able to incorporate the genetic information of any creature whose meat he has eaten into his own and either alter his own physiology to match it or grow it out of his body as an extra body part. For example, he can alter his sense of smell by replicating the olfactory system of a bear or change sections of his skin to the armoured exoskeleton of a crab, or he could grow wings or tentacles out of any part of his body. He can also grow extra body parts out of these new body parts, allowing for some extremely versatile mutations. This involves mass generation of cells at an extremely rapid pace, using up lipids from the food he eats. This also gives him the additional ability to regenerate from a number of injuries that would otherwise leave him maimed or dead, as long as he has eaten enough to provide the necessary lipids. Privileges: [SECURITY NOTE; MR-2242-M IS TO BE LIMITED TO A LARGELY LOW FAT VEGAN DIET IN ORDER TO LIMIT LIPID DEVELOPMENT. IF SUBJECT MAINTAINS GOOD BEHAVIOR, HE MAY BE ALLOWED ONE LOW FAT MEAT BASED MEAL A WEEK, SUCH AS CHICKEN OR WHITE FISH] * Large Desk * Dresser with size adjusted subject clothing * Size appropriate writing equipment * Three large journals, more to be added when full * Bookshelf * A number of young adult novels * Small television set with a DVD player * Various animated movies and television series on DVD [SECURITY NOTE; FILMS DEPICTING HUMAN NATURE AS VILLAINOUS OR IN AN OTHERWISE NEGATIVE LIGHT ARE PROHIBITED]</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord Location: Personal Containment Cell [Yellow ward] --- --- His eyes snapped open as the sound of an alarm met his ears. But it was still dark. Feeling a hint of panic, the boy tried to strain his eyes, reaching up and touching his face - before realizing he had a sleepmask over his eyes; he slipped it up onto his forehead. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking as the warbling cacophony interrupted the rushing thoughts of his freshly awoken consciousness. He turned his head to the left as he laid flat on his back upon his bed, seeing now that he was in a stark white room, with very little decorating its interior. Where was he? He tried to recall how he got into this room, to no avail. He pushed his arm against the bed, propping himself up so he could get a better view of his surroundings. Except, there was something off. He looked at his arm, and his heart jumped. He swatted at his arm with his other, pushing himself back against the corner his bed was situated into, only to see that his other hand was covered in an inky black material as well. He tried to shout as he attempted to smack and claw the blackness away from his body, only to find himself accomplishing nothing - he couldn't speak. His silent breath was ragged as he held his arms out in front of him, away from his body as he tried to distance himself from this ichor intrusion that he found attached to him body. He found himself noiselessly hyperventilating as he stared at the wisps curling and slowly crawling around the blackness of his arm as his knees pressed against his chest. He looked at the backs of his hands for what seemed like forever, until he heard the wails of the alarm die down. He moved his finger, slowly. It moved as he willed it. He tried to close his hand. It became a fist. He joined his hands together. The touch was dull, but he could feel it nonetheless. W-what...is going on.. The boy moved his hands to the bed and pushed himself off, landing lightly next to it. He looked down, and his feet were also covered in the inky blackness as his arms were. He reached up and pulled at his shirt - underneath it, more shadow. It sent chills up his spine. It didn't feel uncomfortable - in fact he felt physically well - but it...didn't seem normal. And he couldn't remember how this stuff had got all over him. He paused as the lights flickered. Was there some sort of power outage? Speaking of his clothes - whose were these? Not his, surely. And-- He looked at his hands again - they had squarish, metallic bracelets on them. Why? There was one on his neck too. His eyes scanned the room, one thing in particular catching his eye. Upon the nearby desk there was a plushie. A stuffed dog. He grabbed it - it was pretty, and made him slightly more comfortable just holding it. He clutched it under his arm. The boy looked towards the only exit to the room, an open doorway with the door shuttered into the wall. This place was so completely foreign. He tentatively stepped towards the door, feeling his hands quiver as he did. He tried to control his breathing, but it was difficult. He stopped just before reaching the doorway, tentatively putting a hand on the doorframe as his other clutched the dog. And then he heard a voice. "Hello? Is anybody there?" It was a young voice. He hesitated, before making himself peek out in the direction of the voice. There was the stark white hall - and there was a boy. A very young boy. Why was here? Where were all the other people? He slowly, hesitantly, stepped out of the doorway and into the hall facing the boy, the dog plushie clutched tightly under his shadowy arm as his left held onto the doorway. He tried to speak out to him - but yet again to no avail. He couldn't talk. He took hesitant steps towards the boy as he held his hand up in an awkward wave.</s> <\|message\|>Seo-Ra Han (Seora) Seo-Ra Han [FR-2164-SRH] Like many contained in the cells of Facility B, the young woman found herself awake by the sound of warbling alarms and sirens. Upon waking from her slumber, strangely enough, she had no memory of who she was, and where exactly she was and what she was doing in this strange place. The red light of the camera that was strategically place to provide an unobstructed view of her no longer had the glowing red eye that signified that it was on. Among the flickering lights, the woman noticed that her room was filled with a variety of sprinklers, as though a fire might break out at any moment. Feeling something heavy at her holding her head down, her hands found themselves grabbing onto a metal collar worn at her neck. What was this for? Was this supposed to keep her contained? Was she a dangerous person? The alarms and sirens soon abruptly stopped, replaced by the eerie silence of the building, with the flickering bzzt of the lights as they switched from the usual full powered mode to emergency power. A quick glance around saw her in a room with a small amount of furniture that she must have been quite fortunate to have the luxury to possess. Whatever she did, she must have had some luck to not be in an empty cell like most prisoners. She had to be a prisoner, what else could explain the nondescript gown she currently wore, and the thick metal collar around her neck? There was no other logical explanation. The woman spoke for the first time among the eerie silence. "안녕하세요?" No answer came back to greet back. Walking out of the emptiness that used to be occupied by her cell door, the woman stepped out into the hallway, repeating her words once again. "안녕하세요 누구 있어요? [annyeonghaseyo nugu iss-eoyo?]" A few minutes would pass before she would repeat once more, this time in English. "Hello? Is anyone there?" This time she heard something, her ears straining to pick up on the sound. She had no idea if that was directed at her. It was a voice, faint and somewhere in the distance, that she couldn't quite make out. It confirmed something for her. She wasn't alone. There were still people out there, and her gut told her that the answer she sought for her current situation would likely be found in the company of others, what with her recent memory being non-existent and all.[/b]</s>	<\|message\|>Malcolm The young man blinked awake as the alarm began, trying to figure out just what was going on. Despite not recognizing it, he still somehow felt that the room was kind of familiar. A couple of seconds later, he decided he was extremely grateful of that fact, as he realised that he couldn't even remember his own name. "I guess I should just be glad I remember how to speak english..." Taking a closer look around the room, he had to say that most of it seemed relatively normal. There was a nice big mirror, a bed, a desk, a dresser filled with clothes identical to what he was currently wearing apart from the collar around his neck, which he would concede as one of the first things to tip him off that something wasn't quite right apart from the alarms, which was obviously strange as well. There were a few other things that really sealed the deal, or wait, maybe it just counted as one thing. That thing, or those things depending on how you decided to look at it, was that no matter how he looked at it, the TV that sat in the corner of his room was just too damn small. The same could be said for the bookshelf, filled with novels that he was pretty sure could probably fit in the palm of his hand with little to no trouble. And, perhaps most importantly, the door into the room was maybe a little under two thirds of his height at best. No matter what he told himself, there was no way he could justify that. True, he couldn't remember anything about himself or his situation, but he was like, seventy percent sure that a door would usually be tall enough for people to get through without squatting. And then he was distracted by a loud growl. Thankfully though, the feeling that accompanied it meant that he didn't have as much to fear as something deep down in the back of his mind told him he otherwise should have. "I'm really hungry." Turning to the mirror, he did a quick double take as he noticed something else which he was pretty sure wasn't especially normal, in that much like the uniform he was wearing, his skin also held a distinctly grey shade. He considered taking more time to ponder this latest development, which he was pretty damn sure was definitely out of the ordinary, but another growl of protest from his stomach reminded him that he had a matter that may not be objectively more pressing, but certainly felt that way to him. And so he opened the door and ducked to get through, although apparently not low enough if the sudden pain in his forehead was any indication. Thankfully though, once he'd clambered through he found himself in a nice normal-sized hallway, colored the same sterile white as his room if the flickering lights weren't playing tricks on him. No sooner had he made it out though that he heard a woman's voice, calling out in a language he thought he recognized somewhat but couldn't quite manage to understand. The woman repeated herself a few times, before eventually switching to english to his relief. "Yeah." He called out in response when the woman asked if anyone was around. "I'm here." He made his way towards the area he thought the voice was coming from, before eventually finding a woman who appeared to be... well, he wasn't fully sure where she was from specifically, but he was going to take a wild guess at it being somewhere in Asia, and he noted that she was dressed pretty much exactly the same as he was, right down to the collar and red patch. Another thing he noted was that she was maybe half his height at most. "You know what?" He asked no one in particular. "This might actually explain a lot."</s>
<\|description\|>Malcolm Age: Estimated to be somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. Lack of memories makes exact identification difficult. ID Number: MR-2242-M Nationality: MR-2242-M identifies as Canadian, as this is where his memories first begin. True nationality is currently unknown. Appearance: MR-2242-M is a young man of undetermined race, standing at 9'8" and weighing approximately 400 lb. Subject has tan skin, although with a very strong grey tint, and medium length, messy dark brown hair. Subjects eyes are light brown. Subject seems to be extremely fit at any given time despite limited exercise, likely due to any and all fat being consumed through his abilities. Face has seemingly permanent stubble, growing back quickly even when shaved, but slowing exponentially before it can grow longer. Background: Unfortunately, MR-2242-M doesn't actually remember much of anything in terms of his past, or even his original name. His memories start about three and a half years ago, just a few days before his capture by the Facility. Even then, the majority of those memories were of him hiding out in the forest, after his one and only attempt to venture into a town caused the inhabitants to panic. He also has little memory of his capture. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a cave he had claimed for himself, and when he woke up, he was in the room he would come to call home for the next three and a half years. Early on, he was questioned many times and subjected to hundreds upon hundreds of tests, trying to determine his abilities and whether any of his memories remained. When the results proved that none did, his treatment improved drastically, although he is still regularly reminded to inform Facility personnel if he should begin to notice any animalistic impulses, or any faint memories should start to emerge once more. Powers: MR-2242-M is a powerful shapeshifter, able to incorporate the genetic information of any creature whose meat he has eaten into his own and either alter his own physiology to match it or grow it out of his body as an extra body part. For example, he can alter his sense of smell by replicating the olfactory system of a bear or change sections of his skin to the armoured exoskeleton of a crab, or he could grow wings or tentacles out of any part of his body. He can also grow extra body parts out of these new body parts, allowing for some extremely versatile mutations. This involves mass generation of cells at an extremely rapid pace, using up lipids from the food he eats. This also gives him the additional ability to regenerate from a number of injuries that would otherwise leave him maimed or dead, as long as he has eaten enough to provide the necessary lipids. Privileges: [SECURITY NOTE; MR-2242-M IS TO BE LIMITED TO A LARGELY LOW FAT VEGAN DIET IN ORDER TO LIMIT LIPID DEVELOPMENT. IF SUBJECT MAINTAINS GOOD BEHAVIOR, HE MAY BE ALLOWED ONE LOW FAT MEAT BASED MEAL A WEEK, SUCH AS CHICKEN OR WHITE FISH] * Large Desk * Dresser with size adjusted subject clothing * Size appropriate writing equipment * Three large journals, more to be added when full * Bookshelf * A number of young adult novels * Small television set with a DVD player * Various animated movies and television series on DVD [SECURITY NOTE; FILMS DEPICTING HUMAN NATURE AS VILLAINOUS OR IN AN OTHERWISE NEGATIVE LIGHT ARE PROHIBITED]</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @TheMushroomLord@t2wave With things a bit calmer, Vam took the time to look closer at the object now in her hand. It was bone. HER bone?! How had she done that? It had felt so natural and effortless. The voice in her head quickly snapped her out of her thoughts and she spun around in confusion, trying to find the source. The shadowy being appeared to be looking at her, granted it was hard to tell. Had that come from him? Was it a him? Again, hard to tell. She stared at him a moment before finally responding in a quiet voice, "...I don't know..I don't remember..Who are you?" The younger boy suggested going to the canteen, and she nodded her agreement. Yes, food sounded nice..if there was any food there. She wasn't convinced any staff was here at all. That was an automated message, after all. It didn't care who was here. It would still play. Everything was clearly malfunctioning though. If there were staff, wouldn't they have come by now? There would be someone guarding prisoners, right? Still she began to walk towards where she guessed the canteen was. That is until another sound stopped her, and she quickly turned, gripping the bone tightly again. She stood frozen until the metal on metal sound stopped. It sounded fairly close, and she didn't know if she should be afraid of whatever it was or not..but she definitely felt it regardless! She was the only one of them with a weapon, so she motioned to the other two to stay and slowly approached where the sound had come from, prepared to fight if need be.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Purple Ward Last Recorded Interaction: @BCTheEntity@Nyxira@Bazmund --- The girl calling her self Dolly looked at the man who accompanied Blade back to the group. Of all the door they walked past to reunite together, there didn't seem to be many other people within the hall. The entire hall full of identical rooms, and only four of them were occupied. Dolly didn't question why Blade passed up the remaining doors, she figured they were probably empty anyway. She looked up at the person Blade had found. The newest member of their little band was taller than everyone, but looked much skinnier. Dolly found it a little funny because it was like the man was stretched out half a foot, but kept it to herself. So far, she was the only child there, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. She turned back to the person she had found with the hoodie. He didn't seem to react one way or another, and Blade caught on that the man was not all there. After introductions were made, Dolly spoke up, "Um, if you don't mind, I've decided to call myself Dolly." She wasn't entirely against the name Blade had tried to assign her, but she was more partial to Dolly. It sounded nicer. But since she didn't have a name for any of the others outside of Blade, she thought it would be easier to keep it that way. Not entirely sure what a druggie was, she opted to just stick with Dougie for simplicities sake and it sounded more like a name than Druggie did. She also thought Sticks was a funny name. Dolly followed Blade as he walked down the hall towards, well she was not quite sure, but it seemed like food would be that way. She grabbed a hold of Dougie's hand and led him as they rest of the group started down the hall. She let go, and once she found that he was going to keep following them, ran to catch up to Blade as he took the lead. Side by side, she looked up at him while keeping pace. "You didn't give yourself a name. I thought of Blade because of the knife on your arm. Is that alright?" she asked. As they walked down the hall, Dolly commented about the halls, the doors they passed by. She wanted to ask him about the loud noise that echoed the halls before the lights had cut out. As far as she was aware, she was the only one who got scared by it. Dougie stood stationary as she clung to him, and the others didn't bring it up either. Before she opened her mouth, they stopped by a pair of large double doors. Like the others, these doors were unlocked and pushed open ever so slightly. Presumably this was the cafeteria. Dolly forgot her question when the possibility of food just on the other side presented itself. She was hungry, Blade was hungry, and presumably the other two were hungry as well. Now would probably not be the time to ask, but in the back of her mind, she was afraid whatever that noise was going to come back.</s> <\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ The boy watched his friend as he awaited their response, absentmindedly wondering if the wisps of shadowy stuff were thicker than they had been just moments before. Noticing his friend making some kind of gesture to him, a fist with their thumb pointed towards the ceiling, confusion flashed across the boy's face as he tried to determine the meaning behind the motion, a lifetime without meaningful social interaction having left him at a loss to many basic social conventions. The boy's confusion was short-lived, however, as only moments later the accompanying message reached the boy, making the gestures meaning clear, "Good idea". Unlike the last time his friend had spoken, this time the boy was pretty certain that his friend hadn't physically spoken, their voice seeming to have come from somewhere directionless. In his head maybe? The boy dismissed the thought, as far as he was concerned some people just spoke like that and right now he was more preoccupied with the pride that had begun to well up in him from the praise he'd received, however small that praise had actually been. The boy moved to follow his companion, the smile on his face showing that his pleased feeling had not yet faded. The boy noticed his friend making the same thumbs-up gesture and another that the boy recognised as 'come here' to the girl but didn't think much of it, it wasn't like he was being asked to do anything difficult like speak to her after all. The boy found a strange comfort in having someone friendly to walk beside, an alien feeling, but a nice one nonetheless. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the boy was snapped out of his stupor by a loud banging noise, followed by another, then another, then another, until, with a metallic screech, the noise stopped. The boy saw the girl hold the flat of her palm out towards him and his friend. That one meant she wanted them to stop, didn't it? Watching her as she slowly began to move in the direction the noise had emanated from just moments before, the boy saw her clutching tightly in her hands the unidentified object he'd noticed earlier, what appeared to be some sort of sharpened instrument, made out of what looked like bone. Was she planning to go and see if whatever had made the noise was dangerous? He guessed so. Did she want to protect his friend and him? Even if he was too shy to talk to her the boy certainly didn't want anyone to get hurt for his sake. Should he try and help her? The idea of facing whatever had made that crashing noise before seemed a little scary, but for whatever reason, the boy felt like it probably couldn't hurt him, or maybe more like it wouldn't matter much if it did… And maybe if he helped out his new friend would praise him some more afterwards? After several long moments of contemplation and hesitation, the boy decided he'd help the girl, taking a deep breath as he slipped his hand away from his friend's and moved to position himself just behind the girl, trying his hardest to appear as small as possible as he did so. @AelitaJezebelle@t2wave</s>	<\|message\|>Malcolm "Well, I was planning to call myself Grey or something, but hey, whatever floats your boat I guess. I'm fine with pretty much whatever." The giant said with a shrug. He met the suggestion of looking for the cafeteria with an enthusiastic nod. "Yep, I'll second that. I can't tell for sure, but it's possible I might actually be starving to death, so lead the way." Honestly, he was just glad this guy knew where he was going. He felt like something in his head was going absolutely insane, to the point where any faint memories of where to go that might have remained were getting jumbled up along with the rest of his thoughts. Before he could voice that concern however, a massive screech rang out, and he and the other man were suddenly plunged into darkness. Barely a moment afterwards though, he noticed his head feeling kind of weird, resting his head his hand just from how strange it was. "Ah, what the he-What the hell?" He asked, speaking about the odd feeling at first, but quickly asking once again when he noticed what seemed to be a flash of silver suddenly flaring in his mind. He could swear he saw the outline of his own feet somewhere in there, but he supposed it was also possible he might just be losing his mind. Then again, if someone like him could exist, he figured he shouldn't pick the option of it all just being in his head just yet... Before long, the lights came back on thanks to some backup generator or something, the lights turned back on, and no weird flashes appeared after the first. "Uh, anyway yeah, let's go." He said to Red. "I'll just follow your lead for now."</s>
<\|description\|>Samuel J Tavares Age: 26 Years ID Number: MR-1634-SJT Nationality: Canadian Appearance: -185cm in height -Short brown hair, the length of a #2 hair shaver -Light blue eyes -Caucasian skin, very pale when compared to other Caucasians (possible affect of anomaly?) -Currently 95kg, entered Facility B at 127kg. Stretch marks present along his sides -Slight deformation on left pinky finger due to an incident with a knife -Tattoo of a crab on right arm -MR-1634-SJT wears male clothes Background: MR-1634-SJT grew up with both parents and a younger sister in [VOID], Ontario, Canada. Born October 30th [VOID], it is unclear when his anomaly first started manifesting. From a young age he was never bothered by the cold, likely due to his anomaly but this is unconfirmed. MR-1634-SJT claims the first time his anomaly manifested physically was when he was 13, when he chilled a glass of water he was holding at the time. Staff did not discover MR-1634-SJT until he was age 20 as he kept his anomaly well hidden. He was identified as a red level anomalous individual, was captured at [VOID] on [VOID], and was swiftly moved to Facility B. For several days MR-1634-SJT tried denying his anomalous nature, but after being shown the facility had evidence of his nature he resigned himself and has been an easy subject to work with. Powers: Cryokinesis \|\| Subject can manipulate the atoms in objects, slowing them down and thus decreasing the temperature of said object. He can also manipulate moisture in the air to create ice along surfaces. Cooling objects seems limited to a 5 foot radius, ice generation seems limited to a 10 foot radius. Thicker walls require the subject to take more time to collect the needed moisture. Subject can also make icicle-like object which he can throw with surprising strength and precision. Icicles can penetrate up to 1 inch in to skin, causing bodily harm but on their own are not lethal. Subject has difficulty freezing living tissue, requiring several minutes of direct contact to cause third degree frostbite. Privileges: -Reclining chair -Television -Several nature documentary DVDs -Several "retro" video game consoles with games -Treadmill -Bookshelf with mainly young adult fantasy novels -Bedside table with lamp</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle, @t2wave Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- The trio hadn't even been walking for a handful of seconds before they were stopped in their tracks by yet another source of heavy banging noises that left a light ringing aloft in the air. Then there was a pause. Casey felt his heart thumping in his chest during the silence. Those other sounds from a few moments ago, they'd been in the distance. But these were coming from somewhere ahead of them, down the very hall in which they were standing. He felt his foot shift an inch backwards as the noises continued, but this time with a metallic screeching filling the air. He moved his hand back, only to find that it was now empty - his young companion has slipped away and was moving behind the girl with them. Wasn't he scared? No, Casey could feel that he was scared. But if that was the case, why had the boy moved forward when Casey's own feet wanted to move backwards? He hesitated, but eventually forced himself to move forward, stepping to stand beside the two other individuals he shared the hall with. They moved forward step-by-step until finally the visage of a young girl came into view. Casey's head tilted up slightly, his large white pupil-less eyes moving past the girl and to the door behind her -- or rather, what used to be a door. It looked very broken. She had...no. There had to have been a malfunction or something. His eyes turned down to his hands, looking at the inky wisps flowing hesitantly around his wrists and hands. What the hell was going on? His face turned up again to look at the new figure. Were they.. they weren't normal, were they? He clearly wasn't. His gaze shifted once again to the boy in front of him. Was he abnormal? And what about the woman? Where'd she get that weapon?? She seemed just as clueless as he was. His thoughts were racing, and he honestly didn't know what to even do at this point. All he knew was that the three figures standing in front of him all seemed to be in the same boat - at least he assumed so for the young girl; she had come from a room similar to theirs after all. Well, there was another thing he knew. They had to find someone to tell them what was going on and where they were. He felt his gaze pull from those in front of him and to a shape in the corner of his eye. A wide corridor. He looked between his companions and the corridor, hesitantly stepping forward to try and get a good look at what was there. He half-turned back as he began walking, motioning for the three of them to come along. He didn't know who any of them were, but two of them seemed to young to know any more than he did, and the woman didn't seem to be hiding anything - so it made sense for them to stick together. He just hoped they weren't freaking out internally about his appearan- Wait.. He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. Did he hear...voices? It took him a few more hesitant steps before he was in motion again, lulling the length of his steps so the group could stick close together. Were those voices someone who could help them? Or were they more people like them, not knowing where the hell they were or why? He slowed as he approached a turn in the corridor, looking back behind him at his companions to make sure they were still close. He turned forward, peeking his head out to see what was there. He felt his heart skip a beat as the short tendrils on his head laid back and wiggled anxiously. Four figures. He could hear their voices well enough to discern what they were saying now, but he wasn't paying attention much. What his brain focused on was that they were dressed the exactly the same as he and his companions - like prisoners of some sort. There was no doubt about it with the matching clothes and the wrist/neck manacles - they were definitely meant to be contained or something. But why? Maybe it didn't matter, because he felt his muscles relax somewhat. If they were in the same situation as him, they wouldn't know anything either, presumably. The term 'safety in numbers' popped into his head. It made enough sense. He looked to the three other people he'd been traveling the halls with, motioning encouragingly as he stepped side ways away from the 'concealment' that the corner offered. He turned his gaze to the hall where the four other individuals were - it seemed they'd found what seemed to be the cafeteria. He couldn't exactly see what it looked like inside unless he approached, but he was sure it'd look just like any normal cafeteria would. He raised a hand to wave and let out a call on instinct, but once again came up without success. Not being able to speak was really limiting, he had come to realize. He hoped this new group wouldn't be phased by his appearance - it was a stroke of luck that the two young ones and the long-haired woman he'd already met hadn't ran away, considering he couldn't put them at ease verbally. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP - Yellow Wing@Bartimaeus@TheMushroomLord@AelitaJezebelle On first approach the young teen was ready to strike should someone come her way. However in the pale yellow of the emergency lights she spotted three figures. Two were easy enough to make out, a woman and a child. The third was... shadowy? Mind playing tricks on her perhaps. Observing further the shadow didn't go away. All three had similar attire to her own. The woman had a weapon raised, some kind of knife or spike, it was hard to make out. Having just wrestled with something much sturdier looking than this lot she lowered the chair leg she had and clicked her tongue. These must have been the ones she'd actually heard. That realization was not all that comforting considering she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Damn that shadow though. The other two weren't really reacting to it and it seemed to pay them no mind. Against her better judgement she would hold smashing the thing for now. Really at this point the only one that the girl had any interest in talking to was the very clear adult. Somehow the teen knew how to fight. Not that she was skilled at such, but the will to fight for freedom from... something. Had she done this before? That empty void in her memory was glaring right now. Extremely upsetting waking up with nothing. Her fear came out as anger as she scowled. "I would put that down femeie. I don't want to hurt you." There was a fairly strong Romanian accent to her speech. It had rather naturally come out as English for the most part though. She must have been speaking it regularly for a while. The teen's gaze was once again drawn to the shadow creature what had decided to move away and check around a corner. Was it waving to them to follow? Right about now Adelina was fairly certain this was some kind of hallucination... or perhaps a spirit? Were that the case she best not offend it. The oddest thing was how it wore clothing not unlike her own. Rubbing her head she brushed her pony tail back behind her. "Also, please tell me I am not the only one that sees that." She gestured to Casey and when the other two appeared to immediately acknowledge what she was pointing to there was a brief moment of panic. Was she superstitious? Apparently so. At that point she nearly forgot about the other two. The color in her face drained away as she stood there trying to decide how to proceed. It was easier when she could dismiss it as her imagination. The motion to come continued. Hesitantly she shuffled closer to Casey and peeked around the corner to find that there were still others like them. To say that the girl was overwhelmed at the moment would be an understatement. The thing that prevented much hysteria was that she didn't know how to properly respond. "What the hell is going on?" She muttered aloud. Close enough to the shadow thing she considered trying to touch it. No one here seemed outright hostile at this point. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached out to touch the shadowy substance surrounding Casey.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @Randomness@BCTheEntity@Bazmund Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- There was some conversation that occurred. Maybe. He wasn't really certain, and kept slipping back in and out of thought again, so none of it really stuck. The whispers were quietly trying to claim his attention, too, further muddling anything that he might have heard otherwise. Not that any of it seemed to matter. It all seemed to go by very quickly, yet also so very, very slowly. Without realizing it, he was already once again following where the child led him, although his pace slowed when she ceased to tug him along, as though the lack of persistent direction left him without motivation. Still, his feet continued to carry him forward almost automatically rather than by intention. He didn't notice how long he was walking for. He barely even noticed the little group of people who he was inadvertently following, for that matter, simply going with the flow that had been started for him until his dampened senses were met by a bitter smell and the sight of something red. Something red and wrong. Brows knit faintly in a sort of confusion as charcoal grey eyes slowly raised to see the rest, panning drowsily across the scene which he couldn't wrap his elusive thoughts around. His face showed no signs any of it having made any more impression upon him than anything else had thus far, yet he immediately came to a stop, completely and utterly still.</s>	<\|message\|>Samuel J Tavares Whatever that awful sound they heard was it did not sound good nor did Red want to know what caused it. When the lights were back on he glanced at his hand since it felt strange, was that...frost? He wiped it off and decided to try and figure out that mystery later. "Ya, food is this way, and I like you being Grey and I'll be Red, less chance for confusion that way if we run in to anyone else." Red made his way to the cafeteria, or he supposed it was the canteen as the voice said. As he got there he saw a group of people gathering at the entrance, it seemed he and Grey were not the only ones in this facility. Among them the ones Red immediately noticed were a couple of younger kids as well as someone who seemed to be covered in some kind of shadowy miasma. That may have concerned Red before, but given Greys size and theory that people here might not be normal he figured this was just someone whose abnormality was more visible than others. "Hello, hi," Red raised his hand in greeting as he approached the others. "I'm Red, the large gentleman behind me goes by Grey. I'm guessing you all are in the same boat as us and just kinda woke up with no memory of what this place is or how you got here?"</s>
<\|description\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn Age: 29 ID Number: FY-2232-VAM Nationality: American Appearance: FY-2232-VAM is a caucasian female, measuring 167 centimeters and weighing 70 kgs as of [VOID]. FY-2322-VAM has long black hair down to her waist and blue eyes. She wears female clothing. Background: FY-2322-VAM was born on April 10th, [VOID] in San Fransisco, California. FY-2322-VAM had a difficult childhood due to abuse from her mother to her and her 2 sisters. Her eldest sister took her and her siblings in as of [VOID] and raised them to adulthood. Her childhood after her sister took her in was fairly normal and uneventful in nature. FY-2322-VAM was not aware of her anomalous nature until [VOID] when she was hit by a car and was able to heal herself afterwards. Anomalous Containment Staff became aware of FY-2322-VAM on [VOID]. She was resistant during transport but has since become much more cooperative. Powers: FY-2322-VAM is able to manipulate the bones in her own body, going as far as even pulling them out of her body to use for various purposes. Tests have shown she has a second skeleton layered over the first, which is the one she's able to manipulate. The movement of FY-2322-VAM's bones does not appear to cause her any strong physical pain. She describes the feeling as uncomfortable but bearable, and any muscles, tendons, etc that the bones travel through to exit her body are healed immediately. The bones regenerate themselves as well, but this takes a longer period of time, so there is a limit to how much she can do at one time. Privileges: - Desk - Dresser - Lamp - Bookshelf - Various books to stock the bookshelf - Tea - Puzzles - A music box</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle, @t2wave Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- The trio hadn't even been walking for a handful of seconds before they were stopped in their tracks by yet another source of heavy banging noises that left a light ringing aloft in the air. Then there was a pause. Casey felt his heart thumping in his chest during the silence. Those other sounds from a few moments ago, they'd been in the distance. But these were coming from somewhere ahead of them, down the very hall in which they were standing. He felt his foot shift an inch backwards as the noises continued, but this time with a metallic screeching filling the air. He moved his hand back, only to find that it was now empty - his young companion has slipped away and was moving behind the girl with them. Wasn't he scared? No, Casey could feel that he was scared. But if that was the case, why had the boy moved forward when Casey's own feet wanted to move backwards? He hesitated, but eventually forced himself to move forward, stepping to stand beside the two other individuals he shared the hall with. They moved forward step-by-step until finally the visage of a young girl came into view. Casey's head tilted up slightly, his large white pupil-less eyes moving past the girl and to the door behind her -- or rather, what used to be a door. It looked very broken. She had...no. There had to have been a malfunction or something. His eyes turned down to his hands, looking at the inky wisps flowing hesitantly around his wrists and hands. What the hell was going on? His face turned up again to look at the new figure. Were they.. they weren't normal, were they? He clearly wasn't. His gaze shifted once again to the boy in front of him. Was he abnormal? And what about the woman? Where'd she get that weapon?? She seemed just as clueless as he was. His thoughts were racing, and he honestly didn't know what to even do at this point. All he knew was that the three figures standing in front of him all seemed to be in the same boat - at least he assumed so for the young girl; she had come from a room similar to theirs after all. Well, there was another thing he knew. They had to find someone to tell them what was going on and where they were. He felt his gaze pull from those in front of him and to a shape in the corner of his eye. A wide corridor. He looked between his companions and the corridor, hesitantly stepping forward to try and get a good look at what was there. He half-turned back as he began walking, motioning for the three of them to come along. He didn't know who any of them were, but two of them seemed to young to know any more than he did, and the woman didn't seem to be hiding anything - so it made sense for them to stick together. He just hoped they weren't freaking out internally about his appearan- Wait.. He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. Did he hear...voices? It took him a few more hesitant steps before he was in motion again, lulling the length of his steps so the group could stick close together. Were those voices someone who could help them? Or were they more people like them, not knowing where the hell they were or why? He slowed as he approached a turn in the corridor, looking back behind him at his companions to make sure they were still close. He turned forward, peeking his head out to see what was there. He felt his heart skip a beat as the short tendrils on his head laid back and wiggled anxiously. Four figures. He could hear their voices well enough to discern what they were saying now, but he wasn't paying attention much. What his brain focused on was that they were dressed the exactly the same as he and his companions - like prisoners of some sort. There was no doubt about it with the matching clothes and the wrist/neck manacles - they were definitely meant to be contained or something. But why? Maybe it didn't matter, because he felt his muscles relax somewhat. If they were in the same situation as him, they wouldn't know anything either, presumably. The term 'safety in numbers' popped into his head. It made enough sense. He looked to the three other people he'd been traveling the halls with, motioning encouragingly as he stepped side ways away from the 'concealment' that the corner offered. He turned his gaze to the hall where the four other individuals were - it seemed they'd found what seemed to be the cafeteria. He couldn't exactly see what it looked like inside unless he approached, but he was sure it'd look just like any normal cafeteria would. He raised a hand to wave and let out a call on instinct, but once again came up without success. Not being able to speak was really limiting, he had come to realize. He hoped this new group wouldn't be phased by his appearance - it was a stroke of luck that the two young ones and the long-haired woman he'd already met hadn't ran away, considering he couldn't put them at ease verbally. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP - Yellow Wing@Bartimaeus@TheMushroomLord@AelitaJezebelle On first approach the young teen was ready to strike should someone come her way. However in the pale yellow of the emergency lights she spotted three figures. Two were easy enough to make out, a woman and a child. The third was... shadowy? Mind playing tricks on her perhaps. Observing further the shadow didn't go away. All three had similar attire to her own. The woman had a weapon raised, some kind of knife or spike, it was hard to make out. Having just wrestled with something much sturdier looking than this lot she lowered the chair leg she had and clicked her tongue. These must have been the ones she'd actually heard. That realization was not all that comforting considering she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Damn that shadow though. The other two weren't really reacting to it and it seemed to pay them no mind. Against her better judgement she would hold smashing the thing for now. Really at this point the only one that the girl had any interest in talking to was the very clear adult. Somehow the teen knew how to fight. Not that she was skilled at such, but the will to fight for freedom from... something. Had she done this before? That empty void in her memory was glaring right now. Extremely upsetting waking up with nothing. Her fear came out as anger as she scowled. "I would put that down femeie. I don't want to hurt you." There was a fairly strong Romanian accent to her speech. It had rather naturally come out as English for the most part though. She must have been speaking it regularly for a while. The teen's gaze was once again drawn to the shadow creature what had decided to move away and check around a corner. Was it waving to them to follow? Right about now Adelina was fairly certain this was some kind of hallucination... or perhaps a spirit? Were that the case she best not offend it. The oddest thing was how it wore clothing not unlike her own. Rubbing her head she brushed her pony tail back behind her. "Also, please tell me I am not the only one that sees that." She gestured to Casey and when the other two appeared to immediately acknowledge what she was pointing to there was a brief moment of panic. Was she superstitious? Apparently so. At that point she nearly forgot about the other two. The color in her face drained away as she stood there trying to decide how to proceed. It was easier when she could dismiss it as her imagination. The motion to come continued. Hesitantly she shuffled closer to Casey and peeked around the corner to find that there were still others like them. To say that the girl was overwhelmed at the moment would be an understatement. The thing that prevented much hysteria was that she didn't know how to properly respond. "What the hell is going on?" She muttered aloud. Close enough to the shadow thing she considered trying to touch it. No one here seemed outright hostile at this point. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached out to touch the shadowy substance surrounding Casey.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @Randomness@BCTheEntity@Bazmund Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- There was some conversation that occurred. Maybe. He wasn't really certain, and kept slipping back in and out of thought again, so none of it really stuck. The whispers were quietly trying to claim his attention, too, further muddling anything that he might have heard otherwise. Not that any of it seemed to matter. It all seemed to go by very quickly, yet also so very, very slowly. Without realizing it, he was already once again following where the child led him, although his pace slowed when she ceased to tug him along, as though the lack of persistent direction left him without motivation. Still, his feet continued to carry him forward almost automatically rather than by intention. He didn't notice how long he was walking for. He barely even noticed the little group of people who he was inadvertently following, for that matter, simply going with the flow that had been started for him until his dampened senses were met by a bitter smell and the sight of something red. Something red and wrong. Brows knit faintly in a sort of confusion as charcoal grey eyes slowly raised to see the rest, panning drowsily across the scene which he couldn't wrap his elusive thoughts around. His face showed no signs any of it having made any more impression upon him than anything else had thus far, yet he immediately came to a stop, completely and utterly still.</s> <\|message\|>Samuel J Tavares Whatever that awful sound they heard was it did not sound good nor did Red want to know what caused it. When the lights were back on he glanced at his hand since it felt strange, was that...frost? He wiped it off and decided to try and figure out that mystery later. "Ya, food is this way, and I like you being Grey and I'll be Red, less chance for confusion that way if we run in to anyone else." Red made his way to the cafeteria, or he supposed it was the canteen as the voice said. As he got there he saw a group of people gathering at the entrance, it seemed he and Grey were not the only ones in this facility. Among them the ones Red immediately noticed were a couple of younger kids as well as someone who seemed to be covered in some kind of shadowy miasma. That may have concerned Red before, but given Greys size and theory that people here might not be normal he figured this was just someone whose abnormality was more visible than others. "Hello, hi," Red raised his hand in greeting as he approached the others. "I'm Red, the large gentleman behind me goes by Grey. I'm guessing you all are in the same boat as us and just kinda woke up with no memory of what this place is or how you got here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn Vam noticed the other two join her, and she couldn't deny she felt relieved that she wasn't the only one facing whatever was ahead. She wasn't sure what she expected to be making the noise they'd heard, but a young girl wasn't it. Still, it was the best outcome, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly lowered her weapon again. This girl appeared to be a prisoner like them. Why were they all prisoners here, anyway? What had they done wrong? It hurt her head to try and wrap her mind around all these unknowns. Casey's movement beside her pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see him motioning them to follow. She gave a nod first to him, then to the girl asking if they saw him, and she motioned for her to follow them as well. They might as well stay together. Safety in numbers, right? As they walked forward, she looked up at the signs pointing to the cafeteria ahead. Strange. She would expect to smell food going this way, so why did it smell so much of disinfectant? She noticed Casey waving to someone and hurried to catch up. There were more people here! Hopefully someone would have answers. She waved with a growing smile as she approached. The purple squares on their clothing caught her attention, and she glanced down at the yellow on her own dress, "The colors are different." What did that mean?</s>
<\|description\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` Age: `#> 14 years` ID Number: `#> FY-1427-AP` Nationality: `#> Moldovan` Appearance: `#> Hair: Red. Sides shaved with remaining hair left to grow out in a mohawk. Length is down to her mid back and tied in a ponytail #> Eyes: Hazel #> Skin tone: Fair #> Height: 158cm #> Weight: 42kg #> Markings: None #> Notes: Smaller frame indicates malnourishment during early development. Medical assessment shows subject FR-1427-AP to be consistent with regional norms. Physical health has improved since being brought to the facility. #> Wing: YELLOW. Subject FR-1427-AP has proven highly cooperative.` Background: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP has been interviewed yielding the following information: Born and raised in the poverty stricken country of Moldova, subject FR-1427-AP had little hope of financial success or security. Current style of hair was chosen out of necessity, having been cut and sold to pay for basic goods. Minimal education. Anomalous behavior started approximately [VOID] years ago. Retrieval of subject FR-1427-AP was conducted shortly thereafter. Since capture and relocation to Facility B subject FR-1427-AP has indicated significant improvement of living conditions. In exchange for privileges subject FR-1427-AP has agreed to comply with given requests. Subject FR-1427-AP's has lent assistance to staff with her anomalous abilities on numerous occasions. #> Notes: Reward based tactics are the suggested first method of persuasion. Learning material also appears to be a sufficient and easily attained resource for motivation. Enrolled and provided material in order to teach subject FR-1427-AP English in order to reduce the need of a translator.` Powers: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP displays an inordinate level of strength and durability beyond her physical capability. Scans do not indicate any abnormal electrical, chemical, or biological functions accompanying the anomaly. From further testing it is hypothesized that subject FR-1427-AP is able to generate a field throughout her body to apply force to the environment around her via physical contact. This same field allows her to maintain cohesion and structure under extreme conditions. To date subject FR-1427-AP has proven able to lift in excess of 2000kg, remain unharmed by arms fire, and survive extreme physical trauma. #> Notes: While subject FR-1427-AP is cooperative staff should still exercise caution when in close proximity. Devices that administer high voltage shocks are effective at immobilizing subject FR-1427-AP and should be carried at all times when in contact.` Privileges: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP has been given access to the following resources: Desk, Hutch, Educational materials, Tutor sessions, Journal (vetted by staff), Puzzles`</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos @Randomness@Nyxira Lotta questions. Lotta bullshit he didn't have time for. And apparently, the guy was way happier to be out of the cell than he ought to be. He was only "free" once he was out and away... but whatever. Sticks caught him on the door thing, too - and the prison thing. Shit. 'Uh... I dunno, mate, my memory is all kinds of shot,' he admitted, half the truth and half deflection to avoid the topic. 'I'm just sayin', if neck collars and kids are normal in prison, then this all-' A quick gesture around him, toward the whole prison situation. '-ain't as fucky as it ought to be.' Speaking of kids, there was the little girl again! And some druggie. Holy fuck, it all made sense now: they weren't in a prison, they were in a loony bin! Which apparently made him a lunatic... no, that couldn't be it. He could think straight, he had his... wait. Shit. He had amnesia. He didn't know if he was mad or not. Fucking God damn it. 'Uh... the li'le girl is, yeah. Hey there.' He waved to her, glancing at the... the guy. Totally out of it, definitely on drugs. Not very pleasant to look at anyway. He had a hoodie. How the hell did he have a hoodie? Fucker was more dressed up than anyone else in the place so far. Pointing a thumb at the newbie, he said 'So this guy was still locked in 'is cell. Apparently, ours were all electronic, his was manual. I got him out no problem, though. An' this girl is... er, the li'le girl I mentioned.' He still didn't know anybody's names, even as he gestured toward her... that needed fixing. And they needed feeding, at that. 'Right, so I don't normally listen to big voices tellin' me what to do, but I'ma do what the speaker said, because I am hungry as fff- as a moth- ...I'm hungry, okay? I'm gonna get food.' As he began to walk in the general direction he, somehow, knew he should, he announced 'By the way, if you guys don't care what I call ya, you're Sticks, you're Tiny, an' he's Druggie Dougie,' pointing first to the new guy, then the girl, and then the guy in the hoodie- oh, Hoodie, that'd be way better. Well, too late for it now. The guy wasn't there enough to give his own name, anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- Casey turned his eyes from the girl who had arrived in front of them, and to the ceiling. A cacophonous screeching sound met the ears of the trio, an ominous sound that he doubted any of them knew the source of. Just a moment later, all of the lights went out. Casey's shadowy faced turned back to the girl, his vision seemingly unaffected by the lack of functioning light fixtures. She seemingly had acquired a blade of some kind from somewhere. His shadowy hand curled its fingers around the boy's at his side - even though Casey felt rather comfortable in the dark, the boy likely would not. As he kept his gaze on her, he felt a string of words pull against the inside of his skull, intertwining as the sensation quickly faded. "Who are you - where are we?" She would hear the words from no particular direction - not that it mattered, as she wouldn't be able to see the source in the dark - but instead they sounded out seemingly from inside her own head. Even still, he felt two other small tugs inside his head, each directing him towards both the young boy and the older girl. He felt a sort of...empathy for them, in the moment. As the chugging, thrumming sound built louder in the distance, he could feel the two pulls -- they felt like - hesitation. Fear. If the girl was scared, she was likely no threat to him or the boy. Casey felt his muscles relax a bit. Soon enough, the sound would settle, and as it did, the darkness disappeared - instead being replaced by a muted yellow hue of light. The wisps around his body, which had thickened in the darkness, seemed to crawl away into his body - though notably less so than they had in the bright white of the lights they previous had. Moments later, an intercom sounded throughout the halls, informing them that the "facility" was now on backup power, and that staff would be working the fix the problem. Casey's heart fluttered in his chest. Staff? There were other people somewhere who could help?? He gave the boy's hand a light, encouraging squeeze. Moments after the intercom had seemed to shut off, another announcement tolled breakfast time, instructing them to head to wherever the canteen might be, before shutting off. The announcement soon coaxed the kid at his side to tug on Casey's arm, softly sharing his wishes to find the canteen. Casey took his other hand and offered a 'thumbs up' gesture to the boy as he felt more words form inside his head. Felix would hear a rather optimistic-sounding "Good idea." as Casey began taking short steps forward, still holding his hand lightly. As they got a bit closer to the girl to pass her, Casey would offer a quick 'thumbs up' and then a 'come along' gesture with his free hand. --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP: Yellow Wing "Infernal door." The girl muttered under her breath. Since waking up in this small room she'd had little to do but explore the contents that accompanied her. For the structure around her was well equipped to keep her contained. The door was solid and smooth, nothing with which the get a hand hold. The walls were just as sturdy. Putting her head against the door she could hear a slight hum. Throwing a chair at the obstacle the poor piece of furniture didn't stand a chance and broke apart on impact. It did glean a small tidbit of information, the thing was magnetized as parts of the chair clung in place. Having resigned to staying put being the only option the girl set herself to looking over the books and papers in the desk. Books, homework, stories... nothing particularly telling other than she was learning to speak English in particular, seemingly from Romanian. Shuffling through everything there were numerous references to FY-1427-AP. Must be her, whatever that meant. Locating a journal she flipped through the pages. Several were missing, having been completely torn out. Most entries were vague, almost cryptic even. Surely all of this was hers. Even testing some writing of her own it matched the look at feel. But she had no recollection of any of it. Most of the stuff was uninteresting at the moment. Having destroyed the chair she took the journal and a bur puzzle back to the bed. If she was stuck at the very least she would keep occupied. Whilst reading she could have sworn she'd heard something outside the door. It was light, barely audible through the solid object. As briefly as it was heard it was gone. Her mind playing tricks on her already? Only a few minutes later the seeming tranquility was shattered as a screeching sound penetrated even into the bunker of a room. Lights going out the space was plunged into darkness. The sound of objects falling came through the void. Thankfully the pitch didn't last long as lights came back on. Well, some kind of light anyway. Frantically looking around she was still alone which was a relief on one hand and terrifying on another. What the hell was going on? Releasing her grip she had mangled the frame of her bed when she'd grabbed it on impulse. Seeing the shape of the thing was something of a revelation. Made maybe the smallest amount of the journal make sense. Eyes turning to the door the bent parts of chair that had stuck to the door before now lay on the ground. Curious she approached again. No hum. Putting a hand against the door and pushing it budged ever so slightly as it was no longer receiving the needed power to keep it stationary. After some attempts to push the thing down she stepped back. There were slight indentations where she had been pushing against the thing with her hands. It had been groaning under the pressure but held. Well it wasn't immovable so maybe it had to slide, and slide it would, upward. Outside in the hall of the Yellow wing a loud ringing of metal being struck by something massive would echo out. Over and over as something desperately fought to get out. The sound stopped for a moment before a new, perhaps worse sound followed. The screeching of metal against metal as a distended door down the hall was forcibly pulled open. Well and truly wedged in an open state. A few seconds later an almost five foot nothing girl stepped out and glanced around cautiously. She'd pocked the small journal and a pencil before making her exit. Somehow she had expected more of a reaction to someone breaking out of a steel prison. At first glance there didn't seem to be anyone, but then she saw, or thought she saw at least, someone further down. Reaching down she picked up a chair leg and carefully made her way toward what she could only assume were the people keeping her here. Food wasn't on her mind at the moment with the adrenaline pumping. Surely they had heard her escape. You'd have to have been deaf to miss it. Better safe than sorry though.</s>
<\|description\|>Artemisia de Chauret Marquise de Estiegnac - 27 Female Human Appearance: Standing at 5' 5", Artemisia is about average height of a girl of her age. Her otherwise unremarkably sized bust is accentuated by her slender figure and a proper posture. Raised from birth as aristocracy, with the confidence to match, she is often dressed in dapper fabrics and cloaks, giving her a mature appearance that exceeds her diminutive size. Her hair is often done up with long, asymmetrical bangs with an unconventional ponytail, but on occasion her hair can be found simply let down. Height: 5' 5" Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Light brown Personality. Artemisia is a person that has seen far more than she should for a noble girl of only twenty-seven summers. From a land once prosperous, torn by war and disease, she has a tendency to become cynical, sometimes bitter. At face, she has a hint of sadness in her air. Nonetheless, she is a person that strives to be virtuous despite her failings, seeking to uphold her morals and her interpretation of noblisse oblige. Formerly rather arrogant and prideful, she can still be smug and still holds a good sense of self-worth despite being beaten down by her past. Influenced by her upbringing, she is yet still a sociable person; while not to the strictest definition of 'friendly,' she is possessed of a certain charisma and guile that can captivate many of those that she meets. Artemisia has a steady, unyielding quality to her and can be stubborn as an ox. She upholds her bargains, and expects others to uphold theirs. Once she takes hold of a grudge, she will take it to the grave. She has a great love for food, wine, and luxuries, despite her newfound circumstances. Dressing well is her particular weakness; in no uncertain terms does a traveling merchant adventurer –spice peddling or not-- dress in silk, gold clasps and finery. Artemisia does, and looks all the better for it. It does give her a bit of the occasional problem on the road, however. History: The United Provinces of Vruchtland, at best, can be described as a state in the business of keeping up appearances. A small nation, occupying the size of land a larger empire might call a province, it is a country of coastal lowlands, levees and costly reclaimed land. A nation of ports, a century ago, it was a maritime empire, ruled by the elite merchant-nobility class. After a hundred years of poor politics, expanding neighbors, and a following twenty years of siege and war, Vruchtland's prestige was barely held together by the slowly unraveling glue of an aging navy, a strong currency, and the natural defenses of floodable lowlands. The port Neuben dictated the flow of many goods into the continent, and stood as the stalwart guardian of the Laagare River, the gateway to the rest of the country and its upriver trading port, Estiegnac. Artemisia de Chauret was the fourth child of Fernand de Charuet, the marquess of Estiegnac, and a member of the merchant elite. As a member of a noble house in declining Vruchtland, Artimisia was groomed to take a position in the country's political and economic sphere. Immersed in a life of politics and trade, she slowly integrated into the family's affairs. At first, she sat in at discussions, threw parties with peers of her age at her family estate. Then, her responsibilities grew towards matters of state. Finally, as a merchant, she broached trade proposals, brokered agreements, and handled disputes in the name of her father. For a noble, she traveled well. When the armada was destroyed, betrayed by Vruchtland's closest ally, when the fleet's captured remnants sailed up past the silent forts of Neuben and into the heart of the country, it heralded the beginning of the end. The country, which had been so hard to take from the frontlines, stood no chance attacked from within. In a few months Estiegnac was under siege. Another couple months later, it was hit by yet another disaster. Artemisia and her family were caught in the siege. A few months later, plague wracked the city. Vruchtland dealt well with plague, but the ravages of war and a dearth of supplies soon reduced even the most practiced of cities. Artemisia, like many others, sought solutions to slow the death. In her own effort to turn back the plague, she dived into books, researching at first the esoteric, and then, as the situation grew more desperate, with her family dying around her, found herself going to the depths of the forbidden as the morbid circumstances drove her research into necromancy with an equally morbid curiosity. Despite her own efforts, little worked, and hardly stemmed the bleeding of the city. In the following months, four fifths of the population perished. The reduction soon forced the city's surrender; by the grace of god, what remained of the population was allowed to walk out. By the end of it, Artemisia was the new head of her family seat, but one in exile. ----- Level: 20 Class: Necromancer Profession: Merchant Stats: Strength (STR): E Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): B Charisma (CHA): B List of immunities: N/A Resistances: Necrotic Disease Poison Hunger Weaknesses: Holy Close quarters combat Equipment: Ceremonial Sword – A small, thin, gilt weapon carried more as a dress weapon than as a weapon for personal defense. Nonetheless, the 90cm weapon functions perfectly fine as a self-defense sidearm. Dagger – A simple well-crafted 30cm blade. It serves as a backup weapon in the direst of situations. Artemisia's Attire – Simple, well-made, but elegant. This often consists of a white blouse, dark skirt, boots, and a gilt black cape with a golden chain and clasp. More subtly, the buttons have her family's coat of arms. Ring of Estiegnac – A gold signet ring engraved with the Estiegnac coat of arms, belonging to the head of the house. Inigo – Artemisia's horse. Sturdy, reliable, but not the fastest. Fitted with a leather saddle and outfitted with a variety of bags for goods and traveling supplies, as well as an always handy to have change of clothes. Leather-bound Journal – Notes, spells, grocery lists, whatever. Probably a grocery list for exotic food. Skills Diplomacy (Passive) Deception (Passive) Spells Cure Wounds – Restores minor to moderate wounds to one's self or another over the course of several seconds. False Life – Fortifies one's self or another with an imitation of life, temporarily boosting vitality. Minor restoration – Cures one disease or condition. Equilibrium – Saps and transfers the life force of one target to another, dealing minor damage while healing the secondary target. Lesser Animate Dead – Animate a corpse with a mimicry of life. Raises a minor skeleton or zombie that follows Artemisia's commands. The spell lasts for a day before the target reverts to a corpse. Fireball – A very straightforward spell. Fires a ball of fire at a target. Bog Strike – Unleash a bolt of negative energy that ensnares the target, dealing minor damage and encumbering them for a small duration.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze The sounds of footsteps coming up from his side made Kaze turn with one mighty fist cocked back. An aura of doom surrounded him when Vani observed him and the potential oncoming strike. But the elf spoke, which got a puff of vapor from the lizardmans nose. "Fine, try to keep up." He said, this wasn't a fun situation, this was a serious time so it required him to be very serious. More footsteps, but the armored elf intervened, kicking the mace wielding soldier before stabbing him in the chest. Well that's what a longsword was designed for after all, thrusting through armor. A flick of Kaze's foot got the mace up into his palm before he launched it down the street, pelting some poor fool in the back with the chunk of metal and wood. But now the pair was off, Vani with his electrically charged shield, and Kaze lowering his shoulder, becoming a living battering ram. Vani's charge seemed to explode on impact with someone, sending them flying. Kaze's own shoulder knocked aside a beefy half-orc in field plate armor. Sending the green-skin tumbling into rubble as they moved. As the moved he heard a softer pitter patter of feet behind, well that was where most of his armor was so he wasn't particularly worried. They did come to a crossroads though, getting him to skid to a stop. Left, mercenaries out for blood. Right, Imperial soldiers out for blood. Center, a big ol' church that was a potential ambush. Behind, confused adventurer's possibly out for blood and a small martial arts girl judging by her build and clothes. Inhaling deeply he centered himself. "Iron Body. Tranquil Mind." He said, a glow engulfed him before his body gleamed with a rainbow of colors that were just barely visible on his white hide. His eyes had a strange purple sheen to them instead of that dull gray. Iron Body had doubled his physical defenses, a basic ability that had done him wonders in the past. Tranquil Mind had made it so low level psionic spells wouldn't work, and higher leveled ones effects were shorter. He had chosen the center path, the church. With his small preparations set he plowed ahead into the gaping cavern that was the church's main entrance. He was fully expecting to be pepper with spells or arrows or something, which is why he went first.</s> <\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus "Two Imperials coming on the right!" "Arte, deal with the archer please!" "Oops, there's a big wall coming up!" "To the left! To the left!" "Locke, update please~" Cecilia rattled off instructions at the speed of a repeating crossbow as she continued her trip through the dense alleyways of the eastern ruins, her journey now assisted by two of her adventuring peers. Settling comfortably into her position as scout and vanguard, the Spellblade softened up any incoming problems, adapting quickly to the quirks of this particular group. She was primarily a solo adventurer, of course, one beholden only to the qualifications of her quest and her personal whims, but that just meant she was accustomed to working with other adventurers out of the blue. Just a matter of being thoughtful, really. Thoughtful, while she forklifted all the annoying problems onto Locke and Arte's laps. With Locke's eyes in the sky and Cecilia's trailblazing, it was easy enough for the trio to keep away from any major battles. Zephyrus Aria proved to be a clincher of a spell in this situation; there was no need for them to murder any marauders or imperials when Cecilia simply knocked them off their feet and let Locke and Arte to fully incapacitate them afterwards. With such drive-by tactics, they continued through the back alleys and side streets, thankfully never encountering a particularly powerful enemy. Those confident in their strength, after all, largely congregated on more open roads in order to crush through opposition with sheer might and magic…which was quite convenient for the well-dressed trio. After all, by the time they broke out of the eastern labyrinth and into the center of the ruins, they looked to be the first ones there. Skidding to a stop, Cecilia twisted open her waterskin and glugged down half its contents, sweat glistening off her skin and exertion causing her complexion to flush warmly. Her runner's high was still kicking in, and her movement-enhancing magic thrummed through her body like ripples of sound as she looked around, taking in the forsaken majesty of the ruinous palace. Glowing crystals dotted the landscape, congregating upon the tower. Was that the dim light she saw southwards, every night she travelled here? The lilac-haired lady took in a deep breath, her smile renewed. This far away, even the sounds of battle were diminished, dulled. Just a little more effort then. She turned to the others, hands on her hips. "Alright, I'll go check out the tower. Got any magic ya wanna toss at me before I figure this climb out?"</s>	<\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Cecilia commanded, and Artemisia followed. It was not an arrangement that they had exactly planned, but at the moment it seemed to work, and that was what mattered. Galloping after the speeding spearwoman, her horse somehow managed to keep the pace, likely spurred on by the urgency and chaos around them to her incessant cracking of the reigns. Her spells flew out at the designated targets, smacking against any adventurer, soldier, or miscreant that threatened to slow their advance. When they'd needed it, she shot out the occasional healing spell or buff, making sure everybody was in tip-top shape to continue their push. Despite their unfamiliarity with each other, in the heat of the battle, they seemed like a well-oiled machine, the trademark of a set of well-seasoned adventurers. Artemisia cracked an offending man's helmet open with a lightning strike, sending the man sprawling permanently on the ground. She stuck mostly to the trademark spells of a common wizard; although she had a couple more interesting spells up her sleeve, she wasn't sure how well accepted they would be between Cecilia and Locke. Regardless, their reckless dash towards the center meant quick, simple spells were more efficient, anyway. Thankfully, the need for more powerful or complex magic was obviated by the path Cecilia had chosen; except for the odd adventurer or squad of soldiers, the resistance they encountered was few and far between. When they did encounter resistance, however, it was quite annoying; perhaps, their attire and belongings stood out just a little bit too much. With their route, they somehow made it to the center of the ruins, and even better, it appeared that they might have beaten everyone to it. Trotting to a stop on her horse, she gave it a well-deserved rest before breaking out her own hydration, breathing out deeply after she'd had her fill. Looking at the landscape of the interior ruins along with her fellow noble adventurers, Artemisia could see the ruins of a once great castle. More curiously, it seemed to be dominated by glowing crystals that littered the ancient stonework, possessing an energy that was no doubt of the magical variety. "It would be better if we stuck together. I'll continue to follow, at least as much as I can on horseback," she replied, still unwilling to leave her steed unattended. "Now, these magic crystals don't natively grow here. I wonder if it's an affect of our little heavens rock?"</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- 'Destroy the head,' the Angelic Mage silently communicated to her Angelic summon, the animated suit of angelic armor silently responding by now going for cleaving apart the head of the zombie it had just chopped off the arm off. Yet Yinha's eyes were, for a moment, inevitably drawn for a moment towards the raving of the insane old man in the back of the church as he shouted aloud. Apparently he didn't take too kindly to her summoning an angel in the room. While the ranting and raving at the end might have sounded like just that, however, she had learned enough of magic to at least tell the last jumble of foreign words the man spoke aloud were an incantation of some sort. Her lips pursed in slight concern at the sight. That couldn't be good. Indeed, as three corpses arose from the heaping pile, now shambling towards her in particular this time, the mage let out a small and quiet sigh as she extended a hand towards their heads. Though when she opened her mouth- "Holy Mirror Image....Consecrated Ring." -things changed. Yinha's visage became blurred to others, shining bright and somewhat blinding whitish light even, and three additional illusory duplicates of her seemed to arise around her with the same type of appearance. For simple zombies, it would be impossible to tell her apart from the images, as only striking them would allow them to 'figure out' what was fake and which was real. The shining light would also make her and the images harder to see and just visually target. These images would also shift each round, however, obscuring her true body until the illusions had been destroyed. A second tier spell to be sure, albeit costing a little more to cast than the traditional mage spell of "Mirror Image" that it was aping. Though she had not left her defense at only this. She would pause briefly, until the zombies got closer into range, before casting a second spell. A white light seemed to erupt from under her feet and cover the ground with a 5-foot radius around Yinha. A lower second tier area-of-effect spell, cheaper to cast and simply dealing holy damage to enemy creatures within...and with a minor secondary effect of setting undead immediately on fire within range.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze's eyes narrowed when his sword, strength, and the electricity just caused slight cracks in the dual swords. They were either purely magical or they were heavily enchanted blades to be able to withstand just the heft of his giant blade. Nevermind the fact the old man didn't even get knocked back by the strength of the blow. Those blades moved his own to the side before they were brought down on his face, which he moved with the blow to minimize the damage inflicted. Shallow cuts that he shook off. Growling he stepped back as the geezer got distracted. Yes he could have just blindly struck, but that armor and those swords weren't natural. So it was time to prepare further. his sword was slung over his shoulder to rest in its specialized sheathe. Slamming his fists together he started to glow with a soft light. "Invulnerable Body. Pace of Wind. Flow Acceleration." He growled out, that white light sinking into his body before he took on a deep purple glow. He'd have to thank the new comer for distracting the elder. These skills needed good concentration to pull off and weren't easy to do in the middle of a fight. The other two could play with the archer and new zombies, Kaze's target was the anti-cleric. Was he a necromancer? Meh it didn't matter. Moving into a stance with one hand leading, the other held back in a loose fist at his waist he watched. The man was focused back on the reptilian man and just went buck wild. But strangely Kaze kept up, that one hand swatting the flat of the blades, knocking them away and making the old man over-extend repeatedly. The thick metal of his gauntlet barely getting scratches from those strange weapons. When the older man rushed in again is when Kaze went on the offensive. He batted aside the blades once more and stepped into the geezers dead zone, the area where the weapons were completely useless. His knee came up to strike the mans midsection. Twisting his foot planted itself and he twisted into a corkscrew punch that was aimed to take off the insane mans arm by destroying his upper pectoral/shoulder. As that fist retracted his footwork shifted, the other one now leading so he could add torque to the oncoming haymaker for the old mans face. Kaze was Comboing Blows at a speed his size and build honestly shouldn't have, but monk skills allowed him to get to.</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle Annabelle took a cookie from Cecilia as well, seeming almost skittish to even reach out at the girl. A few munches, and she found her gaze drifting down to her own attire. Artemisia wasn't wrong, but it was an opinion. Annabelle had gone through quite a lot in these clothes, minimal as they were. She was no knight, no aristocrat. Her natural hardiness had done most of the work in keeping her protected, and perhaps a good deal of luck here and there. She wouldn't deny to herself that they'd be difficult to part with. But in the end, she'd been told the same sentiment as Artemisia's several times already. Maybe it was time. She certainly didn't want to annoy the group she was possibly going to fight alongside for however long. The black-haired girl nodded up at Artemisia. "Okay, but... I don't have very much money," she said. The truth of it was partly the reason she was so bare in the first place. She didn't dare talk about the second reason, at risk of embarrassing herself in front of the others forevermore.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus "Well, wouldn't say that we make all this permanent, but…" Cecilia's eyes flickered up and down Annabelle's body. She may have been scandalously underdressed, but her complexion was smooth despite no obvious signs of powders, creams or illusion magics, while the combination of black hair and red eyes gave a bit of a gothic edge to the woman. With some work, her interesting looks and somber personality could pull off a look that Cecilia couldn't, hm? Then Locke said something dark and vengeful. Right, he also had that sort of look, didn't he? They'd make a good pair, for sure. Vengeful mask-count man and his lady, the demon-summoning sword-mistress. How romantic~ "Don't worry about money too much," Cecilia waved, offering another cookie to Annabelle, "Not like we can do much in terms of shopping until after we get out of here…but once we do, you must go shopping with us. Alright? Entrance fee for joining the winner's group and all." A blink. Ah, there was the invisible boy that caused so much trouble and that Locke wanted to strangle. "What's your names anyways? I'm Cecilia, by the way. Cecilia Tonitrus. That's Artemisia, and down there, lying down, is Locke."</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze leaned back, his spinal column letting out several loud cracks before he shook the dust from his touch hide and armor. This was just a day full of adventure, he'd have some stories to tell when he went back and visited his people. Insane dark magic users, buxon elves, a paladin who didn't seem to know Smite Evil, and now up ahead two noble looking people. Well, noble by human standards. Who brought a horse into some ruins?! Or dressed like they were going to go to a party?! The pink humanoids were certainly an odd lot. The elven woman summoned up a thing. Lesser Angel? It didn't look very angelic...but had anyone ever truly seen one? Whatever, he shouldn't judge. But when she called out to the two ahead, just as Vani fainted, made the big mans eyes widen slightly. "Just some forewarning, Miss, this is kind of a free for all and not everyone is as nice as I and the unconscious one..." He rumbled to her quietly. Since Vani was out he just grabbed the collar of his cuirass and dragged him along behind. Approaching the two at the tower while looking upwards. The pair would see that his enormous sword was sheathed across his back and that he was battered, but still fully functioning. The cross-shaped wound on his muzzle had been healed, the darker scales silvered and fresh looking. "If you're peaceful, we're peaceful." He called out to them as he moved. The closer he got to them the bigger he seemed to get. He had one of those 'fills the room' kind of energy, but really he only towered a smidge over a foot to two feet over the pair. While he moved he looked at the strange crystal growths. Those didn't look very natural...</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle Oh. That certainly sounded like a viable option. Annabelle's eyes drifted to the various crystals around the room, and the vague notion of some kind of "lock" came to mind. The presence of these strange structures certainly started to make more sense in her mind. Wasting no time, she retrieved her sword from the holster at her lower back, and set to work alongside Carpenter. It didn't take much effort to shatter the fragile structures, even for her tiny familiar. A sword crashed through the air, sending fragments flying about, while the little red blob simply opted to root itself into the floor and punch out with a flat cylindrical shape, impacting the crystals even quicker than Annabelle could herself. In short work, they'd dismantled a good number, and by then Annabelle had noticed the changes occurring to the imprisoning blue crystal. A smile washed over her face, and she continued the shattering with increased fervor. Eventually, all that she could see within the room had been shattered, with Carpenter working to search for any smaller formations that might have been hidden in the nooks and crannies of the cavity. "I think... that's all of them," Annabelle said, turning to the fallen goddess crystal. The image of a crack forming upon the surface where Cecilia's spear had struck gave her a measure of certainty that they would succeed with this puzzle, and an eagerness (and perhaps a hint of fear) warmed her spirits.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Oh, that worked! Once her spear finally did more than just bounce away from the large crystal, Cecilia stopped, patiently waiting for Annabelle to finish her sweep of the smaller crystals in the room. It didn't feel as if anything changed, beyond the weakening of the imprisoning crystal, so that had to be a good thing, right? Briefly, Cecilia turned towards the opening in the wall again, narrowing her eyes. Pillars of smoke and dust still rose, but as far as new battles looked, it didn't seem likely. The imperials then? Made sense; adventurers were liable to just fight each other afterwards. "Thanks for the assist, Annabelle. Gonna pick up the pace now, cause I don't really think we have too much time. Just, like, y'know take cover and all, yeah?" As her tower companions prepared, Cecilia did as well, muttering a few arcane words to bolster her physical and magical defenses before she grasped her spear again. Measuring the distances carefully to ensure that her spear, if the crystal suddenly gave away, wouldn't end up skewering the women within, the spellblade took a breath, before unleashing a flurry of light blows, intent on chipping away the crystal with multiple strikes, rather than cleave it apart in a singular one.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Well that was good, the silent clown and the noblewoman weren't hostile so long as they weren't hostile. He did give the pair a once over and wasn't impressed by them. Either really agile, or magic users. His ears twitched when he heard a strange sound, like ice breaking. It was too warm for ice to be here...and it was up? He glanced up just in time to catch the disco lights from the breaking star, but not the cause of it considering pisspoor angle. And now a few seconds of loud sound, and everything was done. Then came a panicked yell making his eyes narrow. Feminine judging by the more shrill tones. He released Vani's gorget, letting him slump to the floor fully now, before crouching down. "I'm gonna investigate that yell." He said before lunging upwards. He didn't need buffs to make a good height of ten feet, and the stonework had plenty of finger holds for him. Well, more like claw holds. He pulled himself upward, his claws slipping between the gaps of the stonework, his feet only providing some slight upward push since the 'claws' of his boots were quite thick and didn't fit in the gaps as well. The further up he went the more clear peoples voices were. He quickly reached the top and carefully peered over the edge. Three women, a young looking male, and nothing else. From here he listened in, curious about what was going on since he didn't see anything particularly threatening.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- Wait, what was that sound-? The well-endowed elven mage looked up just as Kaze seemingly did, before the odd sound seemed to be followed by a spectacle that left Yinha's eyes shooting open wide. A massive burst of light that seemed to emanate from the top of the tower...where the star had fallen. Alongside the unnatural silence, it seemed somewhat more akin to the magic that her very teacher knew. Safe to say, this was something that set off some alarm bells in the Angelic Mage's mind, but even more so outright stunned her for those seconds that felt like a forever before the sound came back. And whose voice was that, which came right after in some kind of shriek?! "Is someone hurt?! Wait for me!!!" The mage called out in an almost frantic voice, giving an apologetic motion to Artemisia with her hands in haste as Vani was now placed in her care. Then the angelic summon came over, however, and picked Yinha up underneath the arms as it tried to hurriedly carry her up to the tower's top. Admittedly the summon seemed to struggle slightly, but while it wasn't on par with Kaze's climbing skills it was doing its job at least. Bit by bit the elf and her bodacious bosom moved up into the air, the angelic mage and her summon scooting up and up to try to reach the right height. Those upon the tower's top would come to eventually see a statuesque being with wings on it, carrying in its obviously struggling arms the elven mage (who wasn't bad on the eyes at least). Though as she looked at the situation, Yinha let her summon know to drop her off on the tower's top...though as soon as the message was given- "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"" Safe to say, the Guardian wasn't wanting to carry her weight more than it had to in this particular instance. Tumbling over the side, the High Elf's body pitched forward as she hit the ground and abysmally failed to stick the landing. While it was a rather negligible distance, and she wouldn't be tumbling off the top of the tower, such a sudden drop was not something she had been prepared for either. Thus, with all the grace of a caffeine-addled elephant with four left feet, Yinha ultimately fell flat on her face in front of the assembled group on the tower's top. Truly a graceful sort of beauty.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Well, if the Imperials weren't aware of shit going on before, they definitely were going to be aware of it now. As the light faded, and the celestial maiden turned out to be much less maidenly than Cecilia figured, the spearwoman turned, stepping off closer to the edge in search of any sign of immediate danger. Well, there was the Lizardman, climbing up. And there was an elf floating up as well. Locke and Arte looked like they weren't doing anything about 'em. Had a deal been struck? Or... Naw, it was probably fineeeeeee. Squatting by the edge, Cecilia waited until the Lizardman reached all the way up, poking his head up from the platform, before smiling at him. "Hello," she said, "We're actually just about to leave now, so could you move?" How long had the flash gone on for? How much time did they have before this place was teeming with military? It was a race now, for sure. A hell of a race. A sprint and a marathon, combined! Hopping up to her feet, the spearwoman slapped her calves, loosening them up, before turning back to the confused maiden. "This must be very confusing for you right now, Maiden, but understand that we mean you no harm. This kiddo here is Ciel, and that's Annabelle over there. I'm Cecilia myself, the lizard over there is a stranger, and that elf is also a stranger...so this must all be very strange for you." She chuckled, but the grip on her Ensorcelled Spear was tightening. "Imperials gonna be swarming around this place now. Not certain if a star-maiden such as you would know of them, but they're bad news and will probably want to do dirty deeds of the bloodline-boosting type to you. So it's probably in your best interest to make yourself scarce, right? Not to, y'know, presume or anything." Would really be nice if Arte or Locke sent a sign. Cecilia really wasn't certain if she should yeet the lizardman and the elf off the tower or not.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani's eyes were racing from Carpenter to the sword gradually melting through the horned girl's fingers. What...the hell was happening anymore. Nothing made sense. And, now that he got a good look at him...that scout was wearing armor that looked like it definitely wasn't from the Empire. Were...were they fighting the King's men? They were beyond screwed. BEYOND dead. They were completely, and utterly, without a doubt or shred of objection, dead as a doorknob. But, maybe a doorknob could get them out of this situation. At least, that's what Kaze's statement about Vani's shield being a "bulwark". The word "bulwark" rang in Vani's head for a moment as he looked to his battered and pierced shield, and, just as Kaze started pushing the lot of them, he came to a realization. ...Bulwark...was a pretty fancy title. One that made him feel really, really important and confident. Not because his shield was needed. Because VANI felt needed. "Leave it to me!" he would say, bolting from Kaze's reassuring (and rather forceful) push on the back and dashing forward in order to follow the path that Yeena and Sarafeye had blazed, charging forward beside Annabelle just in time to see the soldier's leader smack that poor girl across the face, only to... to...do absolutely nothing. Vani was quite confident in his ability to take hits, but...that looked like he'd just fakely swatted at her. But the way his arm moved, and stiffened at the end, that blow was full-on, and met as if he'd just slapped a boulder and acted surprised. Vani was not confident in his boulder slapping ability, but he was pretty sure that nobody on the planet could take a slap to the face that easy. Maybe this girl was some secret powerhouse, with a physique so strong that she broke grown men over her knee, and ate mountains for lunch. ...Man, that concussion was making Vani's internal omniscient narration really strange. But, they were still surrounded. Looking to the demon wielder at where she stopped, Vani immediately stepped back behind the corner while the soldiers' eyes were on Yeena and Serafeye. He didn't like these odds...but it seemed that Annabelle had a plan of sorts. But instead of having Kaze toss her up, Vani made a "shh" motion and pointed to his shield, crouching and hanging it over his head for her to step on. He'd launch her up with it as a springboard, letting her make a softer landing than she would have falling from the height that Kaze could throw her. He assumed. Kaze looked like he could throw Vani in full plate down an alley and bounce him off the wall so hard he came back halfway. ...He just hoped that the two girls in the alley were safe. He was certain that the fair elf with the attractive features wasn't some immortal un-slappable mountain of a woman, and his hands shook a little imagining innocent women getting hurt in this. "Lolan, if you can hear me...please...let the innocent make it out unscathed, and let the wicked fall to your judgement. I am ever your sword, and my strikes shall call your voice down," he prayed, head bowed in silence while waiting for his spring-bulwark to be used.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze blinked when it seemed like everyone was about to go in different directions. Still, he ushered those in front of him to follow the busty elven woman, the jester, and horned girl. Vani picked up his own pace, chasing after the women and male ahead, but the girl asked him if he could throw her to the rooftops. "Remember there are archers, girl." He said, but Vani positioned himself to act as the springboard she seemed to desire. More sounds were coming from behind, there was the unit ahead, and the leader of the squad ahead decided slapping someone full force would get him what he wanted. When someone was kneeling and defenseless, pretty much submitting, you didn't attack them because they said something you didn't like. A low animalistic growl emanated from the behemoths chest as his eyes widened. His pupils turning to slits as a red miasma started rising off his body, his barbaric Rage activating. Reaching over his shoulder he grasped the handle of his huge blade and drew it before blitzing down the alley-way. Despite his rage he did still move around the others of the group instead of bowling through them. It took a lot to enrage the reptilian man, except for certain actions. Like striking someone actually submitting since there was no reason for it. It honestly didn't even register that the woman hadn't taken any damage, just that she had been hit. Skidding while drawing his weapon back he swung the giant cleaver as if it were a great-club. A full body double handed swing as if he were aiming for a home-run combined with some of his skidding momentum at the man who had ineffectively slapped Serafaye.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Well, they were going to engage after all. Cecilia surely couldn't imagine that going poorly, even if Serafaye appeared to have a jawline made of steel by the way she took that slap to the face. No magic, and a curse that prevented her from using weaponry, but at least she knew how to take a hit, huh? Said a lot about the predilections of the celestials, truly. She cast a backwards glance towards Artemisia, who had already taken to the main road rather than go through another alleyway rundown, before grimacing. Don't split the party, the guild receptionists always said. "Arte! Over here!" The lizard man surged in like a tidal wave of muscle, looking like he definitely was going to smash through the walls of the narrow alleyway with his horizontal swipe. The elven paladin became a springboard for Annabelle, while Yinha and Serafaye still...existed. If they were gonna do it, then they were just gonna fucking do it! Cecilia let out a breath, arcane energies flowing out of her heart and to her arms, before tracing up her Ensorcelled Spear like entwining vines. The magical power concentrated on the flat of the spearhead, and Cecilia raised it outwards, pointing towards the clustered group of spearmen. "Flash." Brilliant, eye-searing light shot out at the group, hopefully blinding them and seeding enough chaos that Kaze could do his barbaric, bloody work with no reprisal. Unless the fellow turned around. That'd be a bad time. Funny, but bad. ...hopefully Annabelle could dodge arrows too.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...Dangit Paladin. It wasn't hard to hear what was going on, and to get the gist of events from that. Miss Serafaye had already once again tossed herself out there, this time as the apparently weapons-invulnerable 'bait' in this particular turn of events. But now THAT STUPID SUICIDAL LIZARD Kaze had thrown himself into the mix to fight again as well! It was enough they had someone already burning their mana out, but now this FOOL was once again trying to pincushion himself? On top of that, Vani had apparently run out there and begun shouting about a woman (she was assuming Miss Serafaye) being a monster and...eating the jellies of their eyes?! What in the name of the gods was that idiot thinking! Or rather, he wasn't thinking it seemed. That made far too much more sense than it being just a stupid plan, after all, when it came to the man as far as she'd been able to understand him so far. The more she hung around this lot, the more things just seemed to get crazy. Even so, she wasn't going to abandon wounded and those in danger in this situation. At least if she could help it! "I swear if that idiot-" Yinha muttered to herself before quickly casting a spell, trying to minimize her expenditure with what mana she had. They all couldn't afford to burn out, after all, but neither was she useful if she left the smoke either. She could cast this, at least, but the last little bit...it had to be kept for healing at all costs. Her Alchemy kit could only go so far to make some healing tonics and ilk for after this. Within the smoke, a small magic circle appeared in the air once again briefly as once more an Authority emerged. This time it was holding an angelic looking halberd, but to the enemy soldiers all they would see is a very faint glow from within the smoke before the angel emerged from it at them at a full charge. Its feet clacked on the stones, and some kind of unintelligible or alien roar seemed to screech from its helmet as it tried to blitz the nearest soldier in a fury. Maybe it would be able to help some, since it wasn't some dumb incapable zombie, but whatever it could do beneficially in this case would hopefully be good for the overall situation. Besides, what was scarier than a lot of craziness going on than a holy light glowing suit of armor charging out of smoke and letting out horrible sounds as it moved to strike down the nearest soldier with its halberd?</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Like Locke, Artemisia wasn't particularly in a position to do much more than what she was already doing. She might have put up her shields somewhat prematurely, but she was somebody who wasn't particularly fond of leaving things to chance. So, she had the shields up before moving up to where she could actually be somewhat useful, not wanting to be riddled full of arrows before properly setting up. Of course, she was beginning to think it was all a terrible idea to be protecting these people, since they were all so incredibly insane. To think that she had cast herself in with this lot… it did seem to be working, though. Even if she wanted to help the rest of the party in properly ridding them of the imperial nuisance, however, she couldn't really cast any more spells. She could, in theory, charge out with her horse swinging her puny sword around at the armored soldiers, but that was an obviously suicidal tactic. Artemisia wasn't prone to suicidal tactics, unlike some certain people that were in front of her.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani hadn't really expected much from thsi plan to begin with. After all, battle hardened soldiers were just as likely to skewer a civilian for fear of them being a spy than listen to their warnings. Thankfully, Kaze had more muscle than he did brains as he spied the lizardman blitz forward, injuries and all. ...What an idiot. The pot calling the kettle black would, after Kaze's charge, bolt forward after getting on his knees for a proper running start. The smoke kept the archers at bay, and with their attention divided the soldiers that did see Vani coming wouldn't have the time they needed to rally against him. One-on-one, he was more than a match for the run-of-the-mill soldier, but even if the odds were six-on-one, the panic furthered his advantage. He was probably able to take on like...a whole army. The math doesn't lie. Math Vani cannot do. What he could do however was finally stop talking and start cutting, his sword now bared against the enemy as the combined force of him, Kaze, Yinha's angelic soldier, and the unstoppable Serafaye crashed into them like a wave. A soldier that was attacking Kaze met his end, and in his place Vani would emerge, cutting into the side of one of the spearmen, then another. "Its rude to ignore other people's advice, you know!" he shouted, hoping that a way to deal with the archers would present itself amidst the smoke. He didn't have a nice way up...but he could act as a springboard for someone else. Someone that wasn't Kaze, given his immense size.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus It was a regular old party now, wasn't it? A party of the hella violent, generally murderous, and sorta overwhelming part. With the strength of his sheer brawn, the lizardman continued to mow through groups of soldiers at once, flinging them around like a petulant child with a house of dolls. Serafaye looked to be encouraged by this as well, utilizing her even more impossible strength to flatout toss them at each other like bowling balls. Gratuitious violence all around, truly. The spellblade gave a backwards glance at Locke and Arte, an uncertain smile budding over her features. The developments that have passed...hm. Better to stop thinking about this! Deciding rather arbitrarily that this is the Final Battle For Their Freedom, Cecilia looked out through Locke's smoke towards the archers still positioned on the wall. If they had been more spread out, that woulda sucked, but considering the position her allies were holding, there wouldn't have been line-of-sight if they hadn't clumped up a bit. Vani made her plenty of projectiles, Yinha summoned something brilliantly horrifying, and Kaze did what he did best, holding the frontline so that Cecilia could retrieve the spearheads that he had shattered off the hafts. She calculated for distance, set the timing in her head, and, planting her spear into the ground, filled her new projectiles with her magic. Lightning crackled over their surfaces and they numbed her fingers as she grabbed them by the tips of the blade. "Maybe I should get a bow some time..." Cecilia murmured. But maybe she had been solo adventuring so long that she forgot spellblades were more or less expected to fill any role necessary in a composition? Sighting the archers in the distance, the bladethrower drew her arm back and began to hurl magically-charged projectiles at those misfortunate soldiers, more forcing them to take cover or reposition rather than actually kill or maim them. Each spearhead that missed would curve back, flying into her outstretched palm as Cecilia set a steady rhythm, practically juggling five spearheads into the Imperials on the top of the wall. "Locke, when we break out, shift your smoke up onto the wall!"</s>
<\|description\|>Vani Silverstream Age: 57 Gender: Male Race: Wood Elf Artist Credit: 純珪一 Height: 6'7" Eye Color: Orange Hair Color: White Personality. When someone thinks of a paladin, the last person they might think of would be Vani. In place of chivalry he holds revelry to be his core tenement, seeking enjoyment wherever he goes. He's a lover of wine, women, and boasts, holding the firm belief that any adventure is worth having so long as its enjoyable. He may shirk duties that he finds loathsome, but when it comes to having a swordarm at your back, worse than Vani exist out there. He is loyal to those who show him respect, and despite his negative qualities at least understands that a paladin exists to protect people from evil. If Vani suspects that he can help with a problem, he'll offer his services immediately, boasting that it would likely pose no threat to a man of his caliber. ...Put simply, he's a pain in the neck. History: Wheras most paladins enter their service through tenements of fate, Vani entered it from a childish fit. At the ripe young age of 46. Born the son of a blacksmith and without a mother figure beyond his third year, Vani always resented the simple life that he was born into. As such, he'd try to escape from under the thumb of his father as soon as he worked up the nerve. The simple village of Marinkarn was one that had a rich store of iron present in its mines. Simple farmers, miners, and a few merchants made there home there. It was an idyllic, simple little village...which made it terribly dull to one with such grand ideas of adventure and wanderlust as Vani. He'd admittedly come to love the place, and later in his life would regret leaving in the way he did. But, for his ends, he abandoned it as soon as he had enough money to ensure that he could travel. Running away with one of his father's swords, Vani would enter the service of the church of Lolan, Goddess of Celebration, Storms, and Weddings. It was a simple enough procedure, but it would create a rift between Vani and his father that has lasted for years to come. The reason he chose this church is, frankly, the most selfish one can imagine. As the Goddess of Celebration and Weddings, Lolan's followers are not barred from the usual prohibition placed on clergy for its members to marry and have children. It was a very selfish reason, but Vani always figured that someday he'd settle down with a nice girl after he got the adventure out of his bloodstream. Maybe get stupid rich and famous while he was at it. While Vani had always been a bit of a vulgar and lazy sort of person, the sheer contempt he held for his noble "betters" in service of Lolan drove him to better himself...at least, in terms of ability. Born lame in the brain, Vani would instead focus all his talents on swordplay and training, seeking to become a man worthy of being knighted in full as a paladin. Sadly, due to a mix of his own loose tongue and his inability to master some of the more intermediate paladin spells, he was passed over for the Rite of Advancement. Left behind by his brothers and frustrated with himself, Vani would leave the Church on an unofficial pilgrimage, feeling that he had wasted ten years of his life, and wanted to finally go out and seek adventure on his own terms. Strangely, despite leaving the church improperly he is still capable of using the spells of their order. Perhaps it is because he never lost his faith in her, but rather the tenements of her followers, Vani is still considered to be under the watchful eyes of the Storm Queen. Now, having wandered around for a year on his own, Vani has accumulated a bit of adventuring experience at his own pace. ...Of course, now he was shunned by his brothers, not welcome back home due to leaving his father high and dry, running tavern tabs out on towns that he couldn't afford to drink in at the first place, but...y'know...at least he's killing a few goblin nests here and there. And so the fool of a paladin would march on to the beat of his own drum, unbound by his church, and lacking any home to call his own. ----- Level: 19 Class: Paladin Profession: Blacksmith Stats: Stats are rated by a letter-system, with worst to best being as follows; F, E, D, C, B, A, S. An 'average' adult human, with no martial training and no proper education has rank F in generally all their stats) Strength (STR): B Vitality (VIT): A Dexterity (DEX): D Intellect (INT): F (Technically an E in terms of actual education, but he's a bona fide idiot.) Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): B List of immunities: Sleep, Magical Charm Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: Necrotic, Illusions, Physical Charm Equipment: Steel Longsword: A basic sword the likes of which you could find just about anywhere. The handguard is custom however, having been forged by Vani's father. Any future sword that he would recieve, he would put this handguard on it. Kite Shield of Lolan: A shield emblazoned with the holy symbol of Lolan, Goddess of Revelry and Storms. There's nothing really exceptional about it, but its clear from looking at it that it has been well-maintained and treasured by the one who uses it. Paladin's Ensemble: A mixture of chainmail, tabard, plate gauntlets, and pauldrons that show that Vani is well armored. He would have a helmet, but in anime land helmets are just a friendly suggestion. Ring of the Apprentice: A ring traditionally worn by fledgling mages that enables one to regenerate their MP faster. It was gifted to Vani by his mentor to..."help" with his inability to cast more than a few spells before running dry. Amulet of the Storm: A holy symbol worn around the neck that provides a boost to the user's lightning damage spells. Skills & Spells: Thundering Smite: A wreath of electricity is called down from the heavens to the user's weapon, imbuing it with holy power for a short number of strikes. Because of Vani's relatively low mana pool, he enjoys using this in short bursts during combat as it ends the fight a hell of a lot faster if the other guy is a smoldering charred mess. Lay on Hands: The most basic of healing spells. Paladins are not clerics, and as such generally are not taught much of the healing arts beyond this spell. The user transfers a bit of their stamina into healing magic that must be delivered via direct contact. Vani scarcely uses this. Challenge of the Adherent of Thunder: A technique learned by the defenders of mirth that is effectively a taunt. Except really loud. Duelist: Vani is relatively skilled at swordplay, and is more than capable of going toe to toe with someone of similar strength compared to him.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...Were it not for seeing the wisdom in Kaze's plan, the High Elf might've continued to fume at him for even trying to suggest a plan after PAINFULLY WOUNDING HIMSELF MORE TO KEEP MOVING. Or maybe she was still fuming over what Kaze had done. Either way Cecilia also seemed to have a good point about the alleys as well, though Vani's words and the idea of smashing through walls again made her almost ready to bark out at how that "was a terrible no good very bad idea". But as much as the situation felt overwhelming in its own ways, and mixture of big and little things, Yinha did her best to breath subtly and calmly to keep herself in the game. Yes. If they could move silently- Wait. Where was Miss Serafaye going? No, no no no no no! That was not the plan! Not that they had all agreed on a plan, for goddess' sake, but why was she going towards the Imperial soldiers?! Blast it all-...Oh? The masked man at least had the tact to toss up a smokescreen. Though as Locke collapsed to take a knee, the Angelic Mage felt a certain sense of pity rise up in her. She'd cast a few spells, and while she was feeling it...wasn't like she was depleted entirely either. Perhaps it had been a bit deceptive to get help for Vani from one of the others at the tower, in particular that more regal-looking magic user woman, but while she felt a little guilty she'd also wanted to save mana for later in case they needed it! Whether it had been her and Kaze being attacked by these others, or the Imperial soldiers, keeping at least one potential healer with enough energy and ability to cast was a good tactical advantage to try to maintain! But now was not the time to, er, debate such things internally or otherwise. Yinha looked over at Kaze, pointing two of her fingers on one hand in a "V" shape at her own eyes before pointing them around at Kaze. A wordless way to tell him "i am keeping an eye on your self-harming idiot self". She then quickly began to move, seeking to not fall behind as she made use of the new smokescreen. If they could take out the Archers, that would be a good start for things perhaps. Unless this odd woman who seemed to be from another plane of existence or something slapped these soldiers into submission too. As odd as it was...Yinha almost found herself preferring such an option to more of the rest of them getting pin-cushioned at the moment. Hopefully they'd all get out of here sooner than later, and get a chance to breathe at least.</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Although there were still some flaws with the plan that they crafted together, Artemisia thought it was a good one for the amount of time they had to make it. The risk was high, but there was a good chance that they could make it out without incurring too high of a loss. The strange girl's unexpected strength would be their saviors… and more importantly, Artemisia's. What she didn't expect was for the dumb girl to start charging away at an impressive breakneck speed. The plan had called for a pretty good charge, but it had to involve careful timing and the entire party keeping pace. In a moment, she was gone. And shortly after, she was back. With an army at her heels. And not her army. "This was not in the plan!" She screamed, reacting at the approaching soldiers simultaneously. Although by this time, like her fellow allies, she was gradually suffering from exhaustion, she mustered up the strength to shield the party with her spells. Invoking a brief chant, a domed, semi-opaque blue wall appeared in front of them, supplementing the soft cover that Locke had provided with his smokescreen. Smoke would do little to contain attacks from arrows or spears though; she strained to stretch the protection to all angles that the archers could shoot from, but the effort was fatiguing. Thankfully for Artemisia, she was seated relatively comfortably on a saddled horse, so she wouldn't fall even if she lost her strength. Although, if she somehow passed out, that was another thing entirely. "Best if we all finished those archers off now. Our spells and projectiles can pass through, but I'm not going to be able to hold a shield this wide at this rate." She grimaced, but began to spur her horse forward into a better position in the smokescreen. She just hoped they didn't begin to camp in there, because even if the situation had changed, they still need to get a proper move on.</s>	<\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Well, okay, so they weren't exactly punching a wall...but something was certainly happening! ...But, judging from everyone's reactions, Serafaye was definitely not following the plan in mind. She'd managed to draw away a good portion of the guard away, but there wasn't anything they could really do now against the horde still remaining. Gritting his teeth, Vani would get ready to charge ahead before he heard the sound of a knee hitting the ground hard. ...Their spellcasters were running on empty, and Vani would loathe to admit it, but all this fighting and running was getting him winded. Especially since he was wearing heavier armor than probably the entire group combined. He probably could manage a single smite, but after that who knows if he'd just pass out again after minor exertion. Just as he reached out to help Locke up though, the man stood. He was tougher than Vani would give a spellcaster credit for. Looking towards the archers remaining on the wall, Vani would have an idea. Well "idea" was an exaggeration, since it was more of a gamble at this point honestly. Looking back to Yinha, he would smile, and throw a wink her way. "If you can still manage to summon it, use that angel to help Kaze move. I'm going in," he said, leaning Kaze so that he wouldn't fall before drawing his sword and stepping forward through the smoke-screen. He couldn't count on Kaze, injured as he was, to throw him atop the wall. As such, Vani only had one recourse in mind. Suddenly throwing himself to the ground, Vani purposefully scrapped his face against the dirt, taking his sword and lightly cutting the fabric of his tabard before doubling back in a nearby alleyway and quite literally crawling out of it. Reaching a hand out towards the guards, he would use his gods-given booming voice to let out a cry of absolute terror. "A BEAST! A BEAST! A MONSTER IN WOMAN'S FORM!" he screamed, just loud enough to get their attention while pointing at the direction that Serafaye and her entourage of soldiers that were soon to be slapped to submission had gone. The dirt from before was clotting in his eye, eliciting tears that conveniently played up his B rank acting skills as he said: "THE SHE-DEVIL, SHE SLAUGHTERED HUNDREDS OF US! SHE EATS THE BONES OF MEN, AND SUCKS UPON THE JELLIES OF THEIR EYES!" he groaned, steadily crawling forward, not moving his legs an inch to give the impression that he had been badly hurt. "Quickly! Your men will perish if you don't assist them! She...she defiled countless soldiers...so many dead...so many quiet screams..." If Vani couldn't charge straight in, then he could damn well try and make sure that their attention was split. His shield was still strapped to his arm, battered as it was, so if any archer decided to shoot, he could protect himself. He'd only attack if they struck first here, since he wanted them to earnestly believe his act as he "quivered" in fear, trying to buy the others an opportunity to either charge, or get away. ...That or he'd just die in the dirt like a buffoon.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle There was no point in trying to keep up with a horse, and so when Carpenter returned to her side, once more in the form of a canine, Annabelle took off for the larger group. Strength in numbers, and all that, never mind the fact that Serafaye was being roped along by Yinha down the alley anyways. Dashing off to try catching up to the trio, she came to halt as she rounded a corner and found them accosted by a wall of spearmen. Annabelle hugged the corner, eyes peering around the side just in time to catch the sight of a much larger man's hand stopping short of Serafaye's face. It looked and sounded as if he had smashed his hand into the side of a stone pillar. Perhaps... that was where the girl's strengths shined. Still, being unable to carry a weapon or cast magic, she was still just dead weight, much as she'd be able to shrug off anything else coming for her, from what she could tell. Besides the spearwall before them, the scout group from the main road might end up finding them there as well, pinching them in the alleyway. They needed some kind of trick or strategy... fast. "Big lizard man... do you think you could toss me onto the roof? Or at least give me a boost? If I can get behind them... maybe... maybe I can disrupt them enough to make for a better way forward. It's... all I can think of. Or perhaps, bind them before they notice me with some magic."</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani's eyes were racing from Carpenter to the sword gradually melting through the horned girl's fingers. What...the hell was happening anymore. Nothing made sense. And, now that he got a good look at him...that scout was wearing armor that looked like it definitely wasn't from the Empire. Were...were they fighting the King's men? They were beyond screwed. BEYOND dead. They were completely, and utterly, without a doubt or shred of objection, dead as a doorknob. But, maybe a doorknob could get them out of this situation. At least, that's what Kaze's statement about Vani's shield being a "bulwark". The word "bulwark" rang in Vani's head for a moment as he looked to his battered and pierced shield, and, just as Kaze started pushing the lot of them, he came to a realization. ...Bulwark...was a pretty fancy title. One that made him feel really, really important and confident. Not because his shield was needed. Because VANI felt needed. "Leave it to me!" he would say, bolting from Kaze's reassuring (and rather forceful) push on the back and dashing forward in order to follow the path that Yeena and Sarafeye had blazed, charging forward beside Annabelle just in time to see the soldier's leader smack that poor girl across the face, only to... to...do absolutely nothing. Vani was quite confident in his ability to take hits, but...that looked like he'd just fakely swatted at her. But the way his arm moved, and stiffened at the end, that blow was full-on, and met as if he'd just slapped a boulder and acted surprised. Vani was not confident in his boulder slapping ability, but he was pretty sure that nobody on the planet could take a slap to the face that easy. Maybe this girl was some secret powerhouse, with a physique so strong that she broke grown men over her knee, and ate mountains for lunch. ...Man, that concussion was making Vani's internal omniscient narration really strange. But, they were still surrounded. Looking to the demon wielder at where she stopped, Vani immediately stepped back behind the corner while the soldiers' eyes were on Yeena and Serafeye. He didn't like these odds...but it seemed that Annabelle had a plan of sorts. But instead of having Kaze toss her up, Vani made a "shh" motion and pointed to his shield, crouching and hanging it over his head for her to step on. He'd launch her up with it as a springboard, letting her make a softer landing than she would have falling from the height that Kaze could throw her. He assumed. Kaze looked like he could throw Vani in full plate down an alley and bounce him off the wall so hard he came back halfway. ...He just hoped that the two girls in the alley were safe. He was certain that the fair elf with the attractive features wasn't some immortal un-slappable mountain of a woman, and his hands shook a little imagining innocent women getting hurt in this. "Lolan, if you can hear me...please...let the innocent make it out unscathed, and let the wicked fall to your judgement. I am ever your sword, and my strikes shall call your voice down," he prayed, head bowed in silence while waiting for his spring-bulwark to be used.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze Kaze blinked when it seemed like everyone was about to go in different directions. Still, he ushered those in front of him to follow the busty elven woman, the jester, and horned girl. Vani picked up his own pace, chasing after the women and male ahead, but the girl asked him if he could throw her to the rooftops. "Remember there are archers, girl." He said, but Vani positioned himself to act as the springboard she seemed to desire. More sounds were coming from behind, there was the unit ahead, and the leader of the squad ahead decided slapping someone full force would get him what he wanted. When someone was kneeling and defenseless, pretty much submitting, you didn't attack them because they said something you didn't like. A low animalistic growl emanated from the behemoths chest as his eyes widened. His pupils turning to slits as a red miasma started rising off his body, his barbaric Rage activating. Reaching over his shoulder he grasped the handle of his huge blade and drew it before blitzing down the alley-way. Despite his rage he did still move around the others of the group instead of bowling through them. It took a lot to enrage the reptilian man, except for certain actions. Like striking someone actually submitting since there was no reason for it. It honestly didn't even register that the woman hadn't taken any damage, just that she had been hit. Skidding while drawing his weapon back he swung the giant cleaver as if it were a great-club. A full body double handed swing as if he were aiming for a home-run combined with some of his skidding momentum at the man who had ineffectively slapped Serafaye.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Serafaye Forgotten Ruins, East roads & alleys The thing about heavily disciplined and formation-based soldiers is that once their trained, tried and true formations and tactics fall apart, they don't have the creativity or ingenuity to improvise. For this reason, once they begin to buckle, they tend to do so at a very rapid pace. Such was the fate befalling the Galanon Imperial soldiers in this particular alley of the ruins. With their commanding officer down and out for the fight, their spearwall broken by a single girl and their archers now being assaulted from above by two heavenly valkyries, the entire unit was crumbling, both physically and mentally. Add onto that the flinging of spells from a horse-mounted witch, and the interference caused by a masked degenerate, and you had a recipe for a panic-inducing soup of the day. The addition of a raving, yelling and bloodthirsty elf, proclaiming the descent of his Goddess' avatar, didn't exactly make things any less stressful or confusing for the unfortunate troops caught between weatherowrn walls and a group of rag-tag marauders that were somehow winning this fight. Petty officers and brash youths who wanted to prove themselves shouted conflicting orders and iunstructio0ns to their brethren, it was a complete mess. Eventually, between their own inability to regroup, and the constant pressure put on by the adventurers, the Galanon forces eventually broke. Those in the back turned tail and fled out towards the main road, while those caught in battle dropped the weapons and tried to escape by any means they could, climbing small walls, leaping into ruined windows and so and so forth. It was a sad display, and would have sent great shame through their General's very soul, had he been there to witness the spectacle. Fortunately, for everyone involved, he was not. Still, with their enemies fleeing and the path ahead now opening up, Serafaye let out a sigh of relief. Not so much that the fight was over, but that she didn't need to hurt anyone anymore. After all, having seen her own strength after punching that one fellow had left a sour taste in her mouth. What if she'd hit his head? She could've sent it tearing off his shoulders... Sure, thexe guys had attacked them, but they hadn't managed to even hurt her... So fighting and killing them waws kinda like kicking a baby, except meaner. She turned to her fellows, the lizard and paladin-elf, then looked at the two roof-diving heroines, and finally back at the three spellcasters safely over in the other end of the alley. "I... I uh, guess we won? Huzzah?" She said, with uncertain half-enthusiasm. "Guessing they'll be back though, huh? They don't seem like the kinda folks who'd just give up." She said... Not actually confident in that statement at all. After all, she didn't know jack squat about these people or their determination to see things through... It was just a phrase one said though. And, as it turned out, was indeed accurate! While the soldiers of the beaten squad retreated and reunited with their fellows beyond the alleys, the group now had a clear path ahead of them - so long as they stayed in the alleyways. After all, it wasn't like the Imperial army had stationed squads of troops in every single backstreet - as they'd advanced, they'd also moved their blockades, encircling the center of the ruins. But now that the blockade in the this particular part of the alleys was broken, there was no obstacle ahead of them - at least not yet. If they hurried and didn't dawdle, the possibility of reaching the east-most gate without any further confrontations was a very real possibility! Of course, that required that they move swiftly, and avoided needless side-trips or distractions. Even then, the east gate still had a few guards posted at it, though it was likely the least defended of the gates, as it was the furthest away from the Imperial main force. Serafaye, on the other hand, didn't seem to be in any rush or realize the need for speed, as she walked on over to the big lizard-bro and looked him up and down. "You okay, bro? You got stuff sticking outta your bod... Anyone got any pliers?" She said, and asked, looking around.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...So, just what was this girl again? Nullifying physical damage like that and pimp-slapping enemies into submission with such weak moves was rather high-tier from her knowledge, and that usually tended to be a trait of divine beings or super overpowered special named angels that could only be summoned down by some pretty super high tier rituals and only if they wanted to come. She was pretty far from that right now. She was sure no one in the world was close to that right now. More so, she was more and more sure this girl was from another world entirely between her odd speaking and terms and strange abilities so far. Literally. What educated mage in their right mind wouldn't assume that?! Even so, it seemed her current 'allies' were done mopping up the Empire's soldiers. Albeit there had been a lot to take in, and a lot going at them, and a strange girl had just broken the soldiers's weapons with a simple slap among other things like a crazy shouting paladin. Did she blame them for running? Not at all. Did Yinha feel that this was a great chance to get out of here? Very much yes. "I can help!" The High Elf called out as she quickly ran over, examining the Lizardman's wounds after first glancing forward to make sure the enemy's flight wasn't 'temporary'. "I can at least seal the wounds and get them healing once the projectiles are pulled out, but more importantly perhaps need to keep moving right now while we have the chance," Yinha said, before glancing over at Serafaye as an idea quickly came to mind, "When we get a chance, perhaps you could remove them out more with your strength? If you are comfortable wish such I mean. But we do need to get moving quickly, in case more soldiers try to cut us off that is, as I do not think any of us are as...sheerly durable as yourself from the look of things." Not the most optimal thing to ask someone with untrained hands, but her magic could keep up with the injuries and keep helping Kaze briefly as they moved. Unless the big chopping Lizardman with his sword and strength felt he could make it father before they should do that? Frankly her concern over the injuries was more immediately balanced out with the pressing desire for them to keep moving. Albeit, the great amount of concern over 'who' and 'what' and 'how' in regards to this girl and the rest of this group would be sitting on the backburner for the moment. Words weren't her strong suit right now.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze After Kaze's thorough demolition of the three guards for the...captain? He turned his furious gaze to the rest of the soldiers who were pushed back, punched, murder-stroked, and just plain butchered by the stronger adventurer's. It didn't take long for the soldiers to break rank and start fleeing the bloodbath since there was a bit of shouting from Vani, him just ignoring the damage dealt to him, the invincible star-child, and the teamwork the others were performing. Hell they seemed to work better together than the actual military units they were fighting. With them fleeing he started to force himself to calm down, reining in his rage so it just bubbled beneath the mental surface. Serafaye let out a lackluster huzzah before Kaze shrugged. "That unit is done, but their military on a whole is pretty persistent. They have the numbers to be that way." He rumbled out as he was about to proceed. But the partial dragon girl questioned his well-being before asking about pliers. "I'm fine for now, we can deal with this later." The behemoth said, nodding an acknowledgement to Yinha. A flick of his blade sent the blood on it flying off before he sheathed it. This is going to hurt... He thought as he grabbed the sword that was sticking in his gut firmly and with a growl shoved it fully through so the guard was against his scales. Of course the arming sword went out his back, which he bent down to keep it secured. The others could see the muscles in his jaw flex and shift from the clenching of his teeth while he snapped the shafts of the arrows to make the pain spread around. There was enough wood left to use to pull them out later. As long as he didn't rip them out now he'd be fine, no point making open wounds and potentially ripping up important muscles. Those gray eyes kept ahead as he started to trudge. "Lets...lets keep moving." Kaze said, a little winded from pretty much hurting himself by moving blades through his body and stabbing himself.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Although there were still some flaws with the plan that they crafted together, Artemisia thought it was a good one for the amount of time they had to make it. The risk was high, but there was a good chance that they could make it out without incurring too high of a loss. The strange girl's unexpected strength would be their saviors… and more importantly, Artemisia's. What she didn't expect was for the dumb girl to start charging away at an impressive breakneck speed. The plan had called for a pretty good charge, but it had to involve careful timing and the entire party keeping pace. In a moment, she was gone. And shortly after, she was back. With an army at her heels. And not her army. "This was not in the plan!" She screamed, reacting at the approaching soldiers simultaneously. Although by this time, like her fellow allies, she was gradually suffering from exhaustion, she mustered up the strength to shield the party with her spells. Invoking a brief chant, a domed, semi-opaque blue wall appeared in front of them, supplementing the soft cover that Locke had provided with his smokescreen. Smoke would do little to contain attacks from arrows or spears though; she strained to stretch the protection to all angles that the archers could shoot from, but the effort was fatiguing. Thankfully for Artemisia, she was seated relatively comfortably on a saddled horse, so she wouldn't fall even if she lost her strength. Although, if she somehow passed out, that was another thing entirely. "Best if we all finished those archers off now. Our spells and projectiles can pass through, but I'm not going to be able to hold a shield this wide at this rate." She grimaced, but began to spur her horse forward into a better position in the smokescreen. She just hoped they didn't begin to camp in there, because even if the situation had changed, they still need to get a proper move on.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Well, okay, so they weren't exactly punching a wall...but something was certainly happening! ...But, judging from everyone's reactions, Serafaye was definitely not following the plan in mind. She'd managed to draw away a good portion of the guard away, but there wasn't anything they could really do now against the horde still remaining. Gritting his teeth, Vani would get ready to charge ahead before he heard the sound of a knee hitting the ground hard. ...Their spellcasters were running on empty, and Vani would loathe to admit it, but all this fighting and running was getting him winded. Especially since he was wearing heavier armor than probably the entire group combined. He probably could manage a single smite, but after that who knows if he'd just pass out again after minor exertion. Just as he reached out to help Locke up though, the man stood. He was tougher than Vani would give a spellcaster credit for. Looking towards the archers remaining on the wall, Vani would have an idea. Well "idea" was an exaggeration, since it was more of a gamble at this point honestly. Looking back to Yinha, he would smile, and throw a wink her way. "If you can still manage to summon it, use that angel to help Kaze move. I'm going in," he said, leaning Kaze so that he wouldn't fall before drawing his sword and stepping forward through the smoke-screen. He couldn't count on Kaze, injured as he was, to throw him atop the wall. As such, Vani only had one recourse in mind. Suddenly throwing himself to the ground, Vani purposefully scrapped his face against the dirt, taking his sword and lightly cutting the fabric of his tabard before doubling back in a nearby alleyway and quite literally crawling out of it. Reaching a hand out towards the guards, he would use his gods-given booming voice to let out a cry of absolute terror. "A BEAST! A BEAST! A MONSTER IN WOMAN'S FORM!" he screamed, just loud enough to get their attention while pointing at the direction that Serafaye and her entourage of soldiers that were soon to be slapped to submission had gone. The dirt from before was clotting in his eye, eliciting tears that conveniently played up his B rank acting skills as he said: "THE SHE-DEVIL, SHE SLAUGHTERED HUNDREDS OF US! SHE EATS THE BONES OF MEN, AND SUCKS UPON THE JELLIES OF THEIR EYES!" he groaned, steadily crawling forward, not moving his legs an inch to give the impression that he had been badly hurt. "Quickly! Your men will perish if you don't assist them! She...she defiled countless soldiers...so many dead...so many quiet screams..." If Vani couldn't charge straight in, then he could damn well try and make sure that their attention was split. His shield was still strapped to his arm, battered as it was, so if any archer decided to shoot, he could protect himself. He'd only attack if they struck first here, since he wanted them to earnestly believe his act as he "quivered" in fear, trying to buy the others an opportunity to either charge, or get away. ...That or he'd just die in the dirt like a buffoon.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze Kaze sighed when he took note that Serafaye had up and left the alley. It seemed they were going to be doing things this way, brute force. Well that was the deal of being in a group, you had hotheads and dumb dumbs mixed with smart and tactical. Cracking his knuckles he moved into that strange pose Vani and Yinha had seen once with a face full of concentration. While he channeled his inner energies he heard the shouting from out in the main road to the gate. It sounded like Serafaye was arguing with the footsoldiers out near the gate. Whatever, he needed to work now. A white glow surrounded him while his eyes were closed. A pulse of power rippled along the glow. "Pace of Wind." He stated, the glow taking on a greenish color. Another pulse as the voices drew nearer to the alley entrance. And Vani went out and...started yelling? What? "Flow Acceleration." He spoke out again, the green turned into an orange color now. When he opened his eyes he saw Locke making a smokescreen and Yinha giving him the universal 'I'm watching you' gesture. Grinning at her cheekily he moved forward, weaving between the group to get to the front. The battlecries of the soliders was his own personal signal. He surged out of the alley entrance surprisingly fast for something his size. Vani and Yinha had the potential to recognize that he had buffed himself during that long rest period of just talking and walking. He'd have buffed himself further, but that'd have taken a longer time than they had available. The air around his fist seemed to waver as he drew it back before proceeding to slam it into the torso of one of the soldiers. "Smash." He growled out, he didn't need to say it but sometimes pretending to be stupid was fun. The effect on contact was immediate, the soldiers breastplate crumbled like cheap foil while letting out a screech of metal, his ribcage was completely pulverized, and he went flying back into the clustered melee combatants like a bowling ball into bowling pins. He could have dived into the pile of tangled limbs, yelling, and a corpse. But someone else could play with them. Instead a swatted aside a blind sword-strike before grabbing the mans other arm. Hoisting him up he proceeded to beat the holy hell out of his allies with his armored body, each swing knocked a man away or flattened him to the ground as an armored squishy ally was bashed into them like a strange cudgel. What fun!</s>

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<\|description\|>Alicia Ferdinand \| \| \| \| Alicia Ferdinand Age: 17 Additional Infos: ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ \| Personality: Her personality at first glance might look somewhat like that of your typical snotty upper class British lady at the time. But make no mistake. She wasn't like that at all in her core. She certainly valued those of the lower class, as long as they behaved decently and properly, of course. She acted cold against others, thanks to the combination of her lonely upbringing, making her unable to have a close social relationship without feeling awkward, and her parents bringing her up to be a "prim and proper" lady, which meant not interacting with the servants unless necessary. She never liked social gatherings like tea parties or balls, finding them terribly superficial and a bore. Secretly however, she also hated them because she kept having these young noble men who would ask her for a dance, which just made her terribly uncomfortable and nervous. And when she started rejecting them, they came on to her even harder, giving her the nickname "The Untouchable Rose". She really couldn't handle flirtations well at all, thinking that they were all genuine and not just in good fun. She had a strong sense of social justice, though she would never fancy herself as a grand philanthropist like many others in her circle did. Anonymously, she had an orphanage built with her shillings, as well as a house for the infirm and sick in her father's land. She despised those with a lax moral compass the most. As much as she loved cleanliness, always taking a bath twice every day, even in winter, she despised those with filthy, impure hearts the most. \| \| \| \| \| Interests Reading, especially those romance novels though she would never admit it Painting Taking walks in her garden \| Strengths Stubbornness Determination An analytical mind Does not panic easily \| Fears Loneliness Ennui Living a life she does not want \| History: Alicia was born to the Ferdinand nobility, with her father having an ancestral claim to a knight serving Queen Elizabeth The First. However, her father didn't have a seat in the House of Lords, or participating in politics in the slightest. Instead, he was a landowner and a businessman, owning a trading ship to India and Africa. As you would expect, she wanted nothing in terms of money. However, what she wanted was the attention of her parents, as her mother preferred to spend her time in London being a busy social bee, and her father would frequently go on trips abroad for months on end. She was all alone, only accompanied by her servants whom she wasn't supposed to get close to, being an only child. She met her pixie when she had her daily stroll through her gardens. She told her that she had watched her help all those people without giving a single credit to herself. Perfect to become a Witch. She agreed. She figured it would be a good way to both save more people while staving off her boredom at the same time. Magical Identity \| \| \| \| Witch Name Cestinia ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Upon transformation, her hair became longer and her outfit changed completely into an ornate white leotard with an open white-red skirt, allowing her complete mobility in combat. It reminded her of the ornate costume the performers would wear in a fantastical theatre show, especially those worn by the fairies. It was a little embarrassing at first, but she quickly became accostumed to it. Weapon Antinomy ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ A sword which blade is swirled like a spring/drill. It could extend at will, allowing greater reach for her melee attack. Intended to be used in a swift and accurate manner. \| Pixie Aether ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Like her partner, she is a serious Pixie, always watching over Cestinia, wanting her to grow more and more as a Witch. She would help her in combat, telling her the best approach she should use against the enemy. Outside battle, she almost acts like her surrogate mother/older sister, always reminding her of things she should do and things she must do. Transformed State ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Once Cestinia transformed, she would become the rose adorning her hair. She could give advice freely to her from that position. \| Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Pact with a Holy Beast Allows Cestinia to summon a small Unicorn Dragon to her stead. She would ride it like a horse, allowing her to fly and increase her speed. It could also do its own attacks, firing off beams of light from its mouth. \| \| \| \| \| \| Last seen magical girl anime: Corrector Yui</s> <\|message\|>Clarissa Sherman Mary Anne "It's nice to meet all of you," Mary chimed in. "I've been at this, hm...something over a year, I think. You might've seen me in the papers every now and again." She didn't elaborate further. "Careful there," Umbra spoke up to admonish her. "You really shouldn't draw any more attention to yourself." "Oh, why not," Mary argued in quiet tones. "If we're all working together it won't matter, or they'll find out anyway." Mary wasn't sure if she should get up and curtsy for her hostess or anything, but she was already seated, so that would've been silly anyway. If they needed as many people as possible, whatever this is must be big. But she didn't feel like there was much reason to ask things without hearing what the actual reasons for the coven were. So small talk it was, for the moment. --- Clarissa Clarissa really couldn't put off introducing herself anymore, so she finally spoke up. "I'm Clarissa Sherman. It's a pleasure to meet all of you." She actually was looking forward to working with them, at that. Something one of the other girls had said in her introduction had piqued her interest, so she addressed her directly. "Jackie, was it? Training to be a doctor is an admirable thing. I'm something of an amateur detective myself." Mary Anne quickly hides her shock at the mention of the word "detective." Clarissa wanted to ask about how they managed to track down so many witches. The rest of her questions, at least, would probably be answered in due time. "I'd still like to know how you managed to track down so many of us to send invitations," she said.</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn Marilyn Marilyn smiled at the pixie of the girl called Alicia "I've been doing this since I was a brat, so, uh, around five years at most I think" she said nonchalantly. Marilin most of the time she wasn't actually chasing around Hydes, but she wasn't going to tell them that of course, besides all that running and sneaking around must be of some use. From the ones that had told the group how much time they had been witches, it did seem like there was a huge time difference between her and them, still, Marilyn hoped they wouldn't rely on her too much just because of her experience. Overall it seemed like Ms. Wright had gathered quite the colorful cast, from which Marylin had taken special notice on the amateur detective, she was probably not going to approve of Marilyn's money-making ways, and unlike the cops, there was the possibility that she came to the conclusion a witch was the one committing seemingly impossible crimes. Well, that's one positive thing to come out of the meeting, she would have probably never come across her if she hadn't come to the meeting. On the topic of Ms.Wright herself, she was the textbook definition of a noble lady; kind and polite. Marilyn wasn't even sure if she could have the heart to hurt something, even a Hyde. Yet she did know about witches and had managed to send invitations to everyone here, which considering the size of London and how elusive witches (or at least her) probably were meant it wasn't an easy task. Given that Ms. Edwards was the one explaining the reason for the meeting, she decided to wait until the rest of the witches were done asking, as nothing came to mind.</s>	<\|message\|>Alicia Ferdinand Hmm, this place is certainly quite fancy… Alicia had to admit, begrudgingly, that the place might be just a little nicer than her own. It looked to be recently renovated, as opposed to her mansion which was clearly old and weathered. Sure, she could spend a Crown or two to make it look nicer, but truthfully, she didn't really care. She'd rather save the money, or give it to the orphanage she was funding. She wanted the orphanage to be as nice as possible after all, not like those other sorry, pathetic excuses of orphanages that she had visited, where they would only feed the children grue and give them thin dresses while having a constantly leaking and windy roofs. Keep them humble, they say? Hah! While they themselves wore gaudy jewelry on their necks and fingers, she thought angrily to herself, thinking of the proprietors and benefactors of said places. That was one of the reasons why she wanted to make an orphanage of her own, just so for once, England could have one decent orphanage around. She gave a short and respectful nod to the butlers who opened the door. She always tried to be polite to the servants whenever they performed a service for her. She did the same to the maid that poured her tea for her. "I see…" she replied to Amarantha, who seemed to be reluctant to share more with the group. Understandable, she thought. They were strangers after all. She too felt the same. She didn't know what Ms. Crewe meant when she might have seen her in the papers. Well, she certainly could not remember such a recollection. The detective-looking girl then introduced herself as a detective. Well, big surprise there. She almost huffed, only stopping herself out of politeness. "Since five? Wow, that's really young!" Aether covered her little mouth in surprise, responding to Marilyn. "So you must be really good at it then!" She brightfully smiled at her. When Jacqueline spoke, Alicia couldn't help but furrow her eyebrows. So young. Is a girl that young suitable to be a witch? Or maybe she just looks young? Hmm… Didn't look much like a fighter either. Maybe her magic is more about supporting other witches. That would be a bother. That means her strength would be limited if she were to hunt alone. As she pondered about the young lady, the door behind them suddenly opened, to a group of young children from 4 to 8, followed by whom she immediately assumed to be the hostess of the place, the one that had called them here. She told them to go to their beds, which they seemed to readily reply, though they were accompanied by some butlers in the process. It was clear to Alicia that the younglings were fond of her, calling her Sister or Mother. Well, she certainly has the looks and temperaments for that, she commented. She then proceeded to greet everyone present, including her, noting her owning an orphanage of her own. "Well, I certainly don't keep them in my own mansion," she replied in a somewhat dismissive tone. "Too noisy. I'm already tired enough from my monthly visits to them." Aether giggled. "They love her so much everytime she comes they would be all over her like cute little bees. In fact, once, they were all over her so much they accidentally pulled down the front of her dress! You can just imagine how embarrassed Ali—" SNAP! "—Oww, what was that for?" The fairy rubbed her head once more, little tears coming out from her eyes. "Don't say anything unnecessary," Alicia replied, her cheeks burning red. With a cough, she looked back to the hostess. "I am grateful for your invitation tonight." She bowed on her seat as well. She then introduced herself as Sophia Marjorie Wright, and told the group to ask any questions they might have in their mind. "Alright then," Alicia quickly answered with a stern look on her face. "I'll ask the first question. Why are we here? Why do you need so many witches in one group like this? We can hunt the Hydes individually just fine." She wanted an honest and straight answer. She was not interested in joining an aimless, purposeless group after all. "And then, second question. Are we expected to tell everything about our power immediately?"</s>
<\|description\|>Sophia Marjorie Wright 'Justicia' --- \| \| \| \| Sophia Marjorie Wright Age: 19 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ \| Personality: At first glance Sophia is poised, calm, mature and have her wits about her. She seems to constantly give off an aura of nobility; standing proud and strong. Although on a deeper level, which is not that hard to find once striking a conversation with her, she is also deeply caring and kind. Selfish to a fault, some in her family would say. Among the desperate crowds of Victorian England, it was said by some that Sophia stands as a ray of sunlight; Pure, Innocent yet strong and with purpose. \| \| \| \| \| Interests Reading, Helping those in Need, Painting \| Strengths Kindness, Calmness, Poise, Strength of Character, Determination \| Fears Loneliness, The Dark, Negativity, Failing \| --- History: Sophia is the eldest child of a prominent Londonian family, the Wrights, who's father is a well known and respected Admiral in the British Royal Navy. As such, Sophia grew up rarely seeing her father as he was most often gone on peace missions to keep the Pax Britannica. Her mother, on the other hand, was always present. She always had been sickly and weak from her youngest years, which was why the couple had rejoiced in noticing that Sophia didn't inherit this condition. Instead, she was a strong child and a strong personality that didn't shy away from saying what she thought and doing what she wanted. Sophia grew up under her mother's tutelage, learning the virtues of kindness and patience, but also inherited her father's strength of character and will to act. Her youngest years were happy and fulfilling - but her mother died suddenly after giving birth to a second child, a younger brother. Ever the strong one, Sophia did not let the death of her cherished mother change her. If anything, it strengthened the lessons she was taught, as a way to respect her memory. Sophia's father was still rarely there, even less so the first few months and years after the death of his wish. Sophia took on the role of leader of the family's house and tried to raise her little brother, although this task fell mostly on servants and caretakers because she was busy and judged too young. She only got busier after meeting her Pixie companion only a few months after the tragedy. While taking care of her mother's garden, a creature of seemingly pure light approached her and gave her an opportunity; to give her the means to proactively use her willingness to act and help by giving her the powers to make a difference. It did not take much explanations for Sophia to believe and accept the Pixie's proposition. Ever since, Sophia fulfilled her new duties as Witch superbly and without fail. \| \| \| \| Witch Name Justicia ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Upon transformation, Justicia's hair changes to an almost pure white with only one strand of golden hair, representing Sol - on top of also becoming very long, following her every movements like a beautiful strand of silk would a veil dancer. Her regalia is mostly blue with lots of golden decorations which changes colours depending on the magics Justicia uses. Weapon ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Justicia's weapon is a blade with the shape of a musical note. The center of it is rounded and offers some protection, behind which is the handle. The seemingly decorative golden engravings along the sword changes colours depending on how Justicia uses her magic. \| Pixie Sol ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Just like the Witch she chose to enhance, Sol is poised and strong willed. Unlike Sophia however, Sol has more of a cold calculating personality that favours results over actions taken to get them. The destruction of Pixie's antithesis, Hydes, are Sol's main and most important goal. Transformed State ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Once transformed, Sol most often takes the form of a golden hair brooch in order to be under the sun as often as possible. \| Magical Identity Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Sun's Dance Justicia's magic seems complicated, but is actually very straightforward. It enhances the Witch in short but potent burst of magics that gravitates around movements, but isn't limited to. The main form the magic takes are the leg armours Justicia gains as she takes her magical form. These allow the user to skate upon any surfaces as if it was ice, allowing for great speed, grace and movement. On top of this, The Witch can tap into her magic to gain short enhancements such as momentum in a straight line, high jumps both horizontally or vertically, skates on vertical surfaces such as walls and others. The magic has no offensive options apart from the sword itself, which can cut through any and all Hydes encountered thus far. As a result of this, Sol only chooses strong willed individuals that are highly disciplined. \| \| \| \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn Marilyn "Ah!, no I meant it as in I've been doing this for five years, not since I was five years old" Marilyn explained herself to Alicia. She wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic but she didn't want to take any chances. She wasn't even good enough to run without tripping at least once, she would surely have become food for a hyde if she was picked that early. With that out of the way, she listened attentively to Ms.Edwards, Pixies exchanging information was something new to her, but considering how Kephri usually was Marylin probably figured that she wasn't told because she never bothered to ask, much to her annoyance. So the gist of their task was going to be an extermination job, good. Marylin was sure she could take on a mature hyde by herself, and with the others help the job surely wouldn't be too difficult. She briefly thought for a moment about asking for any kind of compensation, but for once she decided to save it for later. Once the mission was over she would have proved herself to be useful and that could be a bargaining chip. "I can probably help up with tracking too" she began "I don't know what are the mechanics behind it but thanks to Kephri I can emulate the abilities of insects. Aside from that I could patrol and see if there's anything strange around the city."</s> <\|message\|>Veronica Edwards "The Portraitist" --- Veronica Edwards ~ The Portraitist --- Veronica listened intently as the others explained their abilities, and how said magic could aid them with the upcoming mission. "A range of skills such as yours," she addressed the girls who'd replied, "sounds like it could make our tasks much more manageable. Of course, we'll still need to be cautious, and be sure to work together to the best of our ability." She glanced from Amarantha to Marilyn, that trace of a smile returning. "Speaking of teamwork, hunts won't be the only reason for our gatherings. If there are aspects of your magic you have yet to figure out, this way we can help each other train and learn." Claria flitted around the room, grinning down at the newly assembled coven. "That's the attitude! And I can't wait to see what you're all capable of!" In contrast, Veronica's expression became neutral once again. "That," she said, eyes flicking to the slowly dimming view through the window then back, "is something we'll be seeing very soon." It wasn't long before dusk crept over London, people heading home for the day as, unknown to them, a new kind of activity stirred. It wasn't just that in the rowdy pubs and inns Veronica passed by, either. The reports she'd heard could easily be written off as the ramblings of the drunk, but she knew better. Glimpses of ghostly figures. Bouts of aggression that went beyond drunken brawls. Attacks by unseen assailants. Disappearances. This was, after all, the perfect place for Hydes to prey on the vulnerable. "Excess. Paranoia. Anger. Despair," she mused, peering through the dingy surroundings. The stench of alcohol and filth didn't faze her, nor did the air of seediness. She'd long since cast off all self-consciousness while doing her duty - after all, in her transformed state, she'd slip by the average person unnoticed. "The kinds of emotions and impulses that feed and breed Hydes, all in plentiful supply in places like these." Places that, given their experience, many of the witches here would be used to. Then again, sometimes there was no telling where a Hyde would lurk. "Too bad we're ready for them!" Claria rose into the fetid air, casting a glimmer of light through the murk. "And the more there are, the easier they'll be to spot!" With a grim nod, Veronica continued along her way. Numbers, after all, weren't just on the enemy's side. --- Lucilla Crawford ~ Ignis Fatuus --- A purple glow bathed the brickwork as Lucilla raised her candle, looking down the alley with a wry smile. It was ironic, how even after Wisp and Sophia had allowed her to turn her life around, she still belonged in the shadows of London. Now, though, it was to calm the chaos instead of cause it. If the team worked together as well as Veronica and her pixie seemed to think they would, at least. "Ready? That we are," she agreed, snickering. "Let's remind those Hydes it's those people's party, not theirs." She gestured to an inn, from which she could hear off-key singing. As she trailed along, she hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Even with a decent level of faith in her combat ability, teamwork was something she still had to ease into once more. Not that she was the only one who felt that way, judging by some of the other girls' mannerisms. Besides, if things were as bad as Veronica said, they didn't have a choice. Not if she and the others were to stop a repeat of that incident. Her fingers clenched around the candle holder as memories flashed through her mind. Blood, lifeless forms, a barely human figure hunching over them. That figure, still bearing traits of her friend, writhing in flames. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes as if to block out the scenes. No. It wouldn't happen again, not tonight. Putting on that smile again, she turned her attention from Clarissa, to Amarantha, to Lilith, then to Marilyn. She knew this network of streets like a home, but this situation called for a precise search. "Looks like a good time to put those tracking skills of yours to use."</s>	<\|message\|>Sophia Marjorie Wright Unfortunately, Veronica was all too right about their surroundings. Despair was all around, and even those Witches with special tracking powers would not have needed them to detect this. Hell, even a non-witch would feel it in their bones. Such as the state of things, in this part of town at least. In the dim light provided by the street lamps, people could be seen wandering towards their poisons of choice - or away from them, desperately so. --- --- The group had been walking for a little while now, after having left Sophia's residence. They had managed to stay together so far, despite some of them seemingly still unsure about this whole covent thing. Sophia could only hope to reassure them with time. She was one of those who chose to wear the guise of her Witch form for their 'outing'. As this self, she seemed a lot more focused, serious and strong than as her regular cheerful, warm and motherly self. "This part of town used to be so nice..." Sophia could't help but to think out loud. They were in a part of time that used to mostly house markets as well as one large park. It used to be lively, with lots of people shopping during the day, and lots of customers staying in Inns or walking around later at night. Now, due to influx of people and lacks of good jobs, it was mostly a slum. Storages became houses for the numerous poor families, the market was now empty, mostly, and the park was residence to many without a roof over their head, including orphans. They were close to the edge of the City, explaining the large yet unused land for the park and vast market areas now empty. Or not entirely - it didn't take long for them to notice a few Hydes walking around. One of them was closely stalking what looked and sounded like a drunk man aimlessly walking around. The Hyde, this one a shadowy tall and thin figure with piercing red eyes and no mouth, was so close behind the man it looked like it was part of it's body. Clearly, it was feeding off of him...until the man fell down, exhausted and asleep. Surprisingly, it then turned around and began walking away. It was not the only one of it's kind, and they all seemed to do the same thing. Feeding off of nearby targets, but unusually walking away instead of sticking to one target until it's demise or until they were strong enough to go back to their point of origin. Many a Hyde could be seen walking away in various directions; some in the park, some towards the docks, others towards a house district, some more towards a large area where it was mostly storage buildings for companies and, lastly, another group heading towards the center of London. "Strange." Sophia remarked. She and Veronica knew they were going to be numerous tonight, but did not expect such a peculiar behaviour. Veronica noted the Hydes diverging like predators that had caught the scent of new prey. "Well that's unusual," she commented, although her face and tone suggested nothing truly surprised her any more. Despite her ever-cool demeanour, she spun to face the others. "It seems they're drawn to something," she concluded. Theories ran through her mind, not that she could fully launch into them. Time, after all, was of the essence. "We have to make sure they don't reach whatever - or whoever - they're looking for. I know we planned to work together, but if we split into smaller teams, we'll be able to stop them all at once." Sophia did not waste time agreeing with her covent sister. She did not like the idea of splitting up, but it really did seem there was no choice. Besides, most Witches here were not entirely new. "I believe Veronica is right. Furthermore, it seems we have five locations to head towards to...and unless I am mistaken, we are the exact correct number for it. Lilith and Jacqueline could investigate the Park, Clarissa and Marilyn could investigate the docks, Lucilla and Mary-Anne, would you head to the housing district? Veronica and Amarantha, take the warehouses. Finally, it would leave Lady Ferdinand and myself to head towards the center of town." she said, without missing a beat. "We should not waste any time. I fear for what those Hydes might be looking for, or who they might hurt."</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality Boisterous and foolhardy, Eldrid embodies the wild spirit of the northern marches from which she originates. The girl had always been tempestuous, acting upon whims and heated emotions with a reckless lack of forethought, and the introduction of dragon's blood to her body has done little in the way of taming her stormy temperament. Equal parts passionate and stubborn, she has the tendency to be obstinate over matters trivial or dire, believing wholly in her own correctness over evidence overwhelming. Such a disposition stems from a strong sense of pride she holds, one that is easily offended. While she is volatile and quick-tempered, she is also equally fast to forgive, often opting to settle disagreements and insults with a bout of physical confrontation. Only when she is denied such a conclusion, or made the victim of a truly heinous crime, does she hold a grudge. Such grudges, hard-won as a result of her relatively carefree nature, are long standing and difficult to overcome. Owing to her devil-may-care approach to life, Eldrid does not take well to authority. She takes great joy in her independence, and the ability to exercise her wanderlust that accompanies it. Being forced into a regimented system in which she must go to her betters before acting flies directly in the face of her impulsive, freedom loving nature. She works best when left to her own devices, and believes all people truly crave to live as she does. Only when she has garnered a true respect for someone—either by strength of arms or character—does she acquiesce to orders and requests without complaint. Eldrid is also quite covetous, primarily of worldly wealth. She never bedecks herself with finery, but she will voraciously horde valuable assets if given the ability, leading to some... contentious relations with the law. Some might summarize it a result of her draconic nature. Eldrid herself is not so introspective. Appearance Eldrid, while not a traditional beauty, takes great pride in her appearance. She stands taller than most women that she knows—just a few inches shy of six feet tall—and possesses a hard, athletic frame to accompany it. Her apricot skin is as rough as her nature, covered here and there by ridges of scar tissue earned from various scraps and battles long past, the most prominent of which stretches from cheek to forehead across her left eye. Wild, wavy red locks of hair cascade every which way from her head, framing the sharp features of her face in an inferno as fiery as her magic. Her eyes are a rich teal in color, and typically hold either an amused mirth, or headstrong glint. On matters of wardrobe, she is not particularly picky. Simple tunics and utilitarian trousers suit her purposes, and she tends to favor tough leather boots over lesser footwear that wouldn't hold up to the north's conditions. She does have a tendency to dress lightly, specifically swearing off sleeved garments, as their constrictive nature is an affront to her physique. The origin of her magic ensures she does not suffer for this decision. "Fucked up how a goblet is a cup and not a little goblin." \| N a m e: \| Eldrid Isfjellbarn \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Fire Autist \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 18 \| R a n k: \| C½ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Yesterday \| Guild Seal Location: \| Somewhere you don't wanna see, son. \| History: \| Eldrid was born the youngest daughter of a woodsman and his homemaker wife, in the village of Stenhus. Built in the border-marches of Fiore, where the land of man and those of the ancients began to blend, the village was home to a hardy folk, many of whom had set off for lives of adventure and fortune rather than toil in the frigid cold of the far north. Eldrid was one such individual, who from the time she was old enough to listen to stories at the lap of her grandparents, wished to see the world outside their humble hamlet. But life so close to the mystical was dangerous, and she was but a small girl. As such she spent most of her life behind the safe palisade walls of her hometown. But she could only remain a small girl for so long. As she grew so too did her wanderlust, and with it, her resentment towards the restrictions imposed upon her. Her father had staunchly forbid her from wandering off to become another foolhardy casualty for some horrid abomination, like her brother before her had done. She balked under this, yearning to see what all the world had to offer outside of snowy peaks and fir trees. When a great fire befell the woodlands outside the village, talk came to the townsfolk that a monster had taken refuge in the mountains, leaving carnage and destruction in its wake. She was forbidden to leave even on the occasional errand, for fear she would do something as foolish as attempt to track the beast. It went without saying that the moment she was capable, she did exactly that. Making off into the night while her family slept, the young rebel disappeared into the hills with a warm cloak and all the determination. She had thirsted all her life to be as the heroes in her elder's tales, and now she had her chance! It was too good for her to pass up, and so she spent the dark hours clamoring up rocky terrain until it became slopes, and slopes until they became craggy goat paths. The gossip said the beast had taken roost in the caverns atop the great stony monoliths that she had grown beneath the shadows of, and she meant to see it with her own eyes. By the time the sun had risen, she had found the trail of carnage the monster had churned up, and steeled herself as she approached its den, a cavern system carved by spring streams into the interior of the mountain. What she found both shocked and amazed her. The beast truly was great, a dragon of all things, like the ones from the stories. It was truly worthy of her wonder... but the glory of the monster was not what shocked her. Massive and majestic as it may have once been, the great reptilian creature had been laid low, injured beyond a measure even dragonkind had hope to survive. What could have done such a thing to such a powerful being was beyond the mind of a simple, stupid girl who had climbed a mountain for the privilege of witnessing it. She had more pressing concerns to attend to, for the dragon remained just lucid enough in its mortally wounded state to perceive her presence. Using what little strength it had left, the great magical beast bellowed, and in an instant she disappeared with a snap into its massive maw. It rightly should have been her end, there and then, killed for her rebuke of authority and logic. But she was spared. While her father had always told her that her defiant nature would be her end, it was just that which allowed Eldrid to live on, rather than succumb to despair and perish in the frozen cold. With her teeth, she ripped into its flesh, and it was this flesh that would sustain her, the furnace like warmth that permeated its body even in death allowing her to stave off frozen night after frozen night. She supped on its insides and drank of its blood. Gruesome as it was, it gave her strength, and filled her with vigor. It must have been a week or more before she managed to eat her way out of the dragon's corpse, emerging from her viscera cocoon a changed girl. The trip back home from there was of little consequence compared to the ordeal within the cave, and when she was met not with opened arms, but by her father's enraged lecturing, she had made up her mind; her home would be the world now, just as she had always desired. If she could survive a dragon, what more could there be to stop her? She had only been sixteen years old then. Two years prior to her arrival at White Harbor, having spent them journeying around the north of Fiore, honing her body, hardening her will, and perhaps most importantly, learning to utilize the strange gifts that had accompanied her consumption of that dragon so long ago. Upon hearing that the town played host to its very own Mage's Guild, she decided to investigate for her own benefit. The rest, as they say, is history. \| Magic: \| Fire Dragon Slayer Magic Fire Dragon Slayer Magic is a form of Dragon Slayer Magic that allows its user to generate and manipulate the element in question. Like other forms of Dragon Slayer magic, it also imbues the user with an immunity to their element's detrimental effects, bestows them with enhanced senses, and allows them to consume their element to restore their magical energy. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| + Overwhelming Determination To call Eldrid stubborn is an understatement, and she possesses a vast depth of willpower to call upon when she—or an ideal she holds dear—is challenged. One is more likely to break her body before then can break her spirit, which considering the former's toughness, is quite a feat. This trait is especially valuable to one who possesses Fire Dragon Slayer magic, as her passionate refusal to surrender only causes her flames to burn all the hotter. + Unusually Durable More of an innate quality than anything born from training, Eldrid's body is surprisingly sturdy. She is difficult to injure, withstanding powerful blows and debilitating conditions that might quickly fell lesser combatants without succumbing. Such a trait might have been the very reason for her acquisition of magic in the first place; the inside of a dragon tends to be quite inhospitable. - Internalized Misogyny Eldrid has no weakness, because weaknesses are for women. \| Miscs : \| my father was a gamer... and a fiend.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia couldn't stop herself from letting out a polite laugh at Arc's reasoning. It wasn't going to be the first or last time they misinterpreted one another, she supposed. But it was all in good fun! And more importantly, no harm done. The duo turned into a trio and then a group, and soon it was herself, Arc, Lee, and Karna all accompanied by the reporter as they left the guild. Nia tugged at the sleeve of her coat as she listened to Arc talk about Mrs. Whitecliff with a small frown on her face. A missing child was enough to worry any decent person, she couldn't possibly imagine the anguish the poor mother was going through at the moment. That said, she was pulled out of her thoughts as Claire spoke. Shoot, she was hoping to avoid an interview by focusing on the mission. At the mention of Serena, however, she did raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Serena could be intimidating sometimes, but she was harmless. Well, mostly harmless. "Ah, no, your assumption is correct," Nia cleared her throat, putting on a polite smile. "I came here from Crocus some time ago and heard about the guild through some very spirited banter in a tavern. Well, not so much spirited as instead it was more of a heated debate on mages and the effect on the town..." She uttered the last part, although she quickly shook her head and perked up. "Aiden was kind enough to accept me, and for that I am grateful. Getting to be in a guild is more fun than I imagined." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Yes, it certainly did sound like they had a plan. Ria's problem wasn't just coming up with a plan, it was sticking to it. If they had a communication lacrima so Cade could keep watch from the shore and tell Will and maybe she'd hear it one of the times she surfaced. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be staying under the entire time, but she certainly wasn't going to be able to hold onto a communication lacrima and deal with Bessie. The blast of frigid air that proceeded their guildmaster's grand entrance hit like a punch in the chest. She could stand outside without her spell cast for a decent amount of time in what she was wearing before she'd really feel the chill, but that was the natural environment. The Ice-Maker magic Aiden used put White Harbor's frigid gusts to shame. A shiver ran down her spine, but a smile spread on Ria's face all the same watching the display of his maker-magic. "Okay, let's go," she laughed as Serena broke the news to Aiden - that the interview was off. They had more important things to do than delay starting their job. "As you said before, the sooner we start - the sooner we might be able to finish and get something to eat." Ria didn't mind the questioning - and sometimes criticizing - glances she got walking down to the docks. She was used to the judgemental looks when she headed out for a swim. The cold didn't bother her until the spell wore off, and generally by then she was already on her way back to the guildhall. That's what she figured would happen again this time. She never really timed how long it took for her spell to wear off, but she figured they had plenty of time, especially since she was going to be out in her element. "So, Cade, you're staying on the docks, right? I'll be counting on you to help try to keep an eye on how things are going. I know the split between the bay and deeper waters below water, but I won't be able to tell how far I'm getting her out if we stay close to the surface. Will, if you're coming out with me, did you already secure a boat?" She looked at him. "Or were you planning on swimming too?"</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card It was out of the frying pan and into the fire or so it seemed. There wasn't but a moment of reprieve for Kvasir nor his comrades when the wagon was once again launched ass if it were made of paper mache. Before the wagon was launched and he had been laughing at the talking dog a shiver passed through him as the hairs on his neck stood on end. It wasn't the swamp causing the problems this time, it was something else or rather someone else. His instincts reacted faster than his mind like always. Using the momentum in which the wagon was tumbling, Kvasir propelled himself off the wagon and towards the direction of the beast instead of backing away. Klaus had a similar plan but instead sent his ghoulish ships to bombard the strange figure. Hopefully the cannon fire and sheer size of the ship would cloak Kvasir's body as he rocketed towards the fiend. It was all for not however since Klaus' attack seemed sufficient enough to put down the creature. Kvasir never trusted one attack to fully euthanize an enemy. To ensure he was dead, Kvasir landed viciously onto the ground beside the creature before raising his foot to bring it down aiming to curb stomp the creatures head.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card "oh no what happened to the creature is it dead"</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Please believe in me, as I will protect you to the end. --- --- Personality Poised, graceful, and with one hell of a resting bitch face, at first Nia comes off as a quiet girl. So long as she keeps her mouth closed, she can be mistaken for a cold if somewhat distant person. The truth is the complete opposite; her cheerful and bubbly way of thinking often dominating everything she says the second she starts talking. She has no issues offering her opinion on a matter, and is generally open minded, making her easy to talk to and she can talk to just about anyone. She has a rather positive deposition, an optimistic view on nearly everything, and likes to look for the silver linings in even the worst situations. She will never let you down, even the idea of disappointing someone makes her always put in her total effort. As a result she is quick to help out those in need. Still, she puts a lot of pressure on herself even if she is told to take it easy. Polite and usually keeping a calm head, she comes off as more of a caretaker than a wizard. Despite her warm and gentle nature, however, she seems to avoid opening up to people even though she likes it when people confide in her. Her tendency to keep people at a distance is somewhat contradictory, often confusing people, and she has a lot of trouble expressing her emotions properly. Should she be crossed, she keeps her gentle demeanor, though becomes exceedingly passive aggressive. Her observational skills are astute and she weaponizes it when she's angry or annoyed, taking a delight in honing in on people's weaknesses, addressing them with a misleading smile. Appearance Standing at a height of 5"8', Nia is a lovely girl with fair skin and long, pink hair. Her big, baby blue eyes are her most noticeable feature, her heart shaped face giving her a rather innocent look. She has a fairly slim body type with a few curves, a modest bust and hips, and willowy legs. She tends to move gracefully and often has a gentle expression. Her clothing leans towards elegant, preferring clothing that flows with her. "Let's all do our best, okay?" \| N a m e: \| Ourania Clavis \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Happily insists on being called Nia. \| G e n d e r: \| ♀ \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Happily active for almost four months! \| Guild Seal Location: \| Upper right thigh \| History: \| Born to Governor Uranis and his wife Raine, Ourania was raised in a sheltered environment. Aside from questionable parenting choices, there wasn't much excitement in her life until she finally received her mother's blessing to start making contracts with Celestial Spirits. She naively assumed that she would get to spend the better part of her life studying the spirits and practicing magic, only to be given a rude wakeup call in the form of an arranged marriage. The fire of rebellion was sparked afterwards, and with keys and a few belongings in hand, Nia left her home in search of adventure. It was easier said than done, with her mother often using her father's influence to send out a bill to multiple guilds to return her. It happened about three times until Nia finally wised up to it, devising up a better-thought out plan of escape. To ensure her success, she played along while doing a little research on where to go. She decided she would get as far away as she could, out of any of her family's reach, and settled on White Harbor as her destination. There was a minor hitch in her plan, but she delayed it until the last possible minute, fleeing the estate and jumping on a ship. After arriving, she realized just how harsh the area was and made her first priority finding some sort of employment. While at the tavern, she overheard a pair complaining about the current guild. As far as she was aware, she hadn't heard of any guild in the area, and realized it was the perfect place to work and hide among the other wizards. She arrived at the guild hall still wearing her wedding dress, asking to be let in. \| Magic: \| { Celestial Spirit Magic } Nia is a Celestial Wizard whose magic comes in the form of using Celestial Spirit Gate Keys. Celestial Spirit Gate Keys are magical keys that can be used to summon Celestial Spirits, powerful beings from another dimension. Her specialization is utilizing the Star Dress spell, a Celestial Spirit Magic Spell in which the user incorporates the power of a Celestial Spirit into their body. The power manifests itself in the form of a wardrobe change in the form of an outfit centered around the Spirit in question's own wardrobe. By adopting the powers and appearance of the Spirit they choose, the user also adopts a portion of their powers, being able to make use of their magic. [ Gate of the Water Bearer: Aquarius ] ♒︎ Summons the water bearer, Aquarius. The spirit's temperament and outright refusal to follow orders often results in the two bickering whenever she is summoned. She has mastered the Star Dress Form associated, gaining the powers of the celestial spirit. Aquarius' domain is Water Magic, granting her the ability to manipulate the element. [ Gate of the Maiden: Virgo ] ♍︎ Summons the maiden, Virgo. A stiff spirit, despite obeying any orders to a tee, she often insists on being punished immediately afterwards, much to Nia's dismay and discomfort. She has mastered the Star Dress Form associated, gaining the powers of the celestial spirit. Virgo's doman is Earth Magic, granting her the ability to manipulate the element. [ Gate of the Charioteer: Auriga ] Summons a chariot pulled by a horse named Auriga. [ Gate of the Shield : Scutum ] Summons a grand shield whose size can increase depending on the user's power. [ Gate of the Mirror: Meissa ] Summons a a celestial being named Meissa that has a pair of mirrors that enable communication between them. [ Gate of the Glass: Telescopium ] Summons a spyglass used to see over far distances. [ Gate of the Lyre: Lyra ] Summons a lyre player whose voice and music are considered otherworldly. [ Gate of the Furnace: Fornax] Summons a small furnace that emits warmth around the area. Leaves everyone feeling nice and toasty. [ Gate of Canis Minor: Nikola] Summons a small dog. Friendly and cute, he makes for a good companion. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| * High magic stamina * High physical prowess and durability when using Star Dress * Knowledgeable on magic * Reliant on Star Dress for physical prowess * Reliant on keys for magic * Low physical strength \| Miscs : \| She occasionally lets slip details about her past, but outright refuses to talk about it even when caught. Contrary to the image above, her usual outfit is more weather appropriate. The Clavis family was once hailed as a pioneer in magical item production, though it has been a long time since they had contributed to any recent discoveries. They have left their mark on Celestial Key creations, a majority of Bronze and Silver key designs credited to them. She apparently has a contract with another Celestial Spirit, but left the key behind when she left her home.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Seeing the beast rise out of the water trying to get something, Ria smirked a little. This is going to be fun. Bessie was about the same size as Cormenila. She loved chances to spar with him. This was just going to be less fighting, and more tag. "Just like a game of tag," she muttered to herself with a nod. Fun. Her attention turned back to Will when he offered her the magical ring. Her eyes lit up, smirk turning an excited grin. "Oh, wow! This is so cool!" She took it and slid it onto the pinkie of her offhand. If she did need to throw a punch while dealing with Bessie, she didn't want to make it hurt more from the ring, or break the ring in the process. That would kind of ruin the point. She held up her hand to both watch it adjust to size and admire it. "So awesome." She looked over at Cade when he joked about needing one. She laughed. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on us." The smile left her face as she realized he was helping one of the barrier mages off the boat. She jogged over to help the mage off his boat. Surely that was why Cade was here too. "Hey, Kaito. Bessie isn't leaving as fast as I was told she would, huh? We're going to get her on her way." She offered the mage a smile. "You shouldn't have to go back out again to deal with her tidal waves. So rest up and relax, 'kay?" She waved as she walked toward the far end of the dock. "Right, guys, are you ready? Time to dive right in, right?" She laughed at her own pun.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster White Harbor --- --- "W-wha. . ." The young man looked between Cade and Vectis with glazed eyes, barely able to focus on their words before Ria piped up. Kaito looked at the small girl with a slow turn of the head, a hand holding up his head as he stumbled his way into a seating position. "R. . . Ria? I'm sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now. Been. . . holding up the barrier. . . four hours. . . so . . . tired." With a groan, the poor mage fell backward, sprawling out along the dock with his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He was still alive but obviously pushed well past his limits in keeping the rogue waves conjured by the massive sea creature from wrecking the town. Luckily, that meant that there was nothing stopping the group from nabbing the small boat for themselves. Rose The North(east)ern Grove --- --- Claire The reporter listened to all of the group's responses with keen interest, writing down notes on her lacrima slate. She offered a small apologetic nod to Karna for her assumption that she wasn't a native, feeling more than a little embarrassed for the misstep. At Lee's insistence on taking a child with them, however, she couldn't help but furrow her brow. "Isn't this a quest revolving around a missing child? I'm not on expert on these things, but that seems a hair irresponsible of you to do as her caretaker." Tapping her stylus against her tablet, she wrote down a few more notes with a frown before tucking it away to approach the symbol that Arc had pointed out. With a slight incantation, she conjured a magical seal in her palm to run over the symbol. Her eyes lit up for a moment, rapidly shifting images fluttering across her iris before she let them fall shut with a shudder. Taking a step away, she brought a finger to her chin, tapping at it in deep thought as she considered the marking. "In any case, this symbol you pointed out is. . . old. Really, really old. My Archive's database can barely pull up anything about them. If i can hazard a. . . rough translation, I'd say that they all seem to imply no small amount of danger to anyone passing this threshold." She slipped a none to conspicuous glance towards Lee as she said this, eyebrow raised but choosing to continue talking to the group as a whole rather than making further comment. "I can't really read anything else besides that, but if we're going to split up at all, I'm probably going to stuck with you, Arc. Call it a hunch." @Grey@KiwiTime@Inkarnate</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was almost no sign left of the monster that attacked them. Kvasir grew impatient and angry when he had nothing to crush under the weight of his foot. His senses were still heightened as he didn't trust this was all that was left of the beast who challenged him for authority. The words in the background were inaudible to him but not the sound of tendrils smacking the marsh runner's skull into the ground. Kvasir almost snarled in reaction until his vision was interrupted and forced to cut to underneath him. Blobs similar to that of the creature formed underneath them sprouting tendrils of their own. Had he simply stayed there the tendrils would sure enough pull him into the caustic center. In one swift action his chest puffed out and the veins from his body expanded through the skin. A deep howl left his lungs before blood shot out from his body in what seemed to be a concession of blades. Tendrils were cut and sliced like pieces of squid. He had to put some distance between him and the blobs and closer to the monster at the center of this. Propelling himself off the goo monster he touched solid earth once more and took off behind it and the marsh runner. Whatever the dog and the red headed woman chose to do was up to them.</s> <\|message\|>Karna Belladawn --- "Well, what information are we missing, then?" Karna wrapped her arms around her back, clutching them in an almost royal manner. The silver-haired noble wasn't quite sure what the group wasn't being told. It may have been paranoid but the young woman had an inkling that they were going in with half of the information they needed. Going in blind seemed like a poor choice. But the thing about jobs like this were that sometimes they were forced to do such things. Upon hearing they would split up Karna tapped one of her fingers, "If we are splitting up. I will go with Nia."</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Nia shuddered slightly as they arrived, looking around a little nervously. Arcturus was right, something about this place was weird. She felt like something was going to jump out at them at any second, making it difficult for her to pay attention to the conversation. Keeping in a whimper of fear, she lightly smacked her face to snap herself out of it. She was a wizard for crying out loud! She had her keys, her magic...everything was going to be okay. No need to get scared. Right? Tuning back into the conversation, Nia did look around at the mention of lights. Oh this place was definitely haunted, wasn't it?! Quietly taking in a deep breath, she rubbed her arms as she listened. Unfortunately, runes weren't her specialty, and she couldn't say she was a huge fan of splitting up--this was like a horror story waiting to happen! That said, however, they were here to find the lost child, and he could be by himself and in need of help. So she nodded in agreement at Karna's statement, uncrossing her arms as she took a hold of her keys. "Okay, if we're splitting up, then..." She took a few steps back as she unhooked a silver key. Brandishing it, she channeled her magic into the key. "I call upon thee! Open, Gate of the Mirror: Meissa!" With a flash of light, a small, pixie-like creature appeared, its wings fluttering as she formed a circle. Once the circle completed, it split into two and a pair of mirrors formed, floating into Nia's hands. "We can use this to communicate," Nia suggested, offering the other mirror. "You know...just in case." She let out a nervous laugh. </s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn The trip to Bludmach had been about as much of a pain in the ass as signing up for the damned guild had been; a comparison that meant something, considering the location of the guild's seal she had chosen once the paperwork was done. She had only been with them for a day before signing up for this job, and before she knew it she was here, in the back of a wagon, in some godforsaken swamp, with two weirdos she barely knew, and a mosquito-like irritant up front. Sprawling across the wagon's floor with her arms crossed behind her head for comfort, the young mage cast a turquoise eye towards Malon as he prattled on about the woes of his situation. The promise of good pay might've been enough to sway her into volunteering to take up this assignment, but the Guild master hadn't said anything about listening to some swamp-rat's bellyaching. Lifting up one of her legs, the fiery lass drove the heel of her boot into front side of their vehicle not once, but twice. Two good, solid kicks right beneath the driver's seat to remind him he wasn't making the trip by his lonesome. "We didn't hire you to whinge about your poor decisions along the way, we hired you to get us to Bludmach. So why don't you make yourself useful and tell us how close we are?" She remarked irately, hoisting herself up onto her elbows so she could lean forward and peak up at their surroundings.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- A Light in the Dark ✰✰✰ @Grey@KiwiTime --- --- --- --- Staring at the job board intently, Nia's eyes roamed the few jobs that lingered. The most interesting job had been snatched up right away, and the group had long departed. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, but so long as they stuck together and followed Klaus' lead, things would likely be alright. Her worry did fuel her indecision somewhat, part of her wishing she had some way of knowing how things went, another part of her subtly trying to figure out how much she still needed to make rent this month. She could probably skirt by the month with a small amount just under budget, but there were a few things she wanted to get for her little home that required more jewels than usual. At least, that was what she told herself; her apartment was minimalist at the moment, and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need more chairs for the seating area or a nice painting to hang on the empty wall, but she couldn't help herself. After letting out a wistful sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and randomly snatched a page off the board. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the lucky job--one Thoronia Whitecliff was requesting aid in finding her missing son. Oh, no, this was terrible and sad and--goodness, she felt herself tearing up already. There weren't very many details on the bill, instead asking for wizards to help her out. She frowned at the page, wondering what could have happened. --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card The foul stench was getting to the sea dog. To a normal person, the stench of rot and bog water could be tolerated or ignored. His large physique could only recoil into itself to avoid the foul air. Seeing his imposing figure curled up and his large, clawed hands holding a much too small, soaked in spirits handkerchief to his nose was a sight to behold. Klaus was having an absolutely miserable time in the swamp on the outskirts of Bludmach. Why did he even come to a place so far away from the sea? The answer was responsibility. Having someone who—quite literally—joined the guild the previous day take an urgent, high-difficulty mission was a big red flag. Doing such a thing either meant you were sandbagging for most of your life or were an overconfident shmuck. The latter was always more likely. Having one of these types was bad enough, but two of them were bold enough to run headfirst into that four star quest wall. It wasn't like those elusive jobs undertaken by the greatest mages, though. Unless there was something really wrong, there was really nothing to stop people from overextending. Common sense, maybe, but nothing else. With Eldrid raging against the runner, the sickened Klaus piped up to rebuke her. "Oi, don't make trouble. Yer part of a guild now. Bein' a knob fucks it up for the rest o'us." He didn't really acknowledge the fact that his passive bonus to a party's intimidation played a pretty major part in getting the poor marsh runner to cart them in the first place.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Arcturus Arcturus looked around for the source of the whistling, and spotted Nia in the distance, doing something odd with her hand. After a moment's thought, the young man finally realized what Nia's actions meant. He had seen those repetitive arm curls before. He began posing.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- It looked like Claire wanted to come along. Nia supposed there wasn't really a good reason to say no to that, but she was still a little antsy at the thought. Well, if she came along, then no need for an interview! Or that was her assumption, anyway, but it was too late to back down now, especially when Lee joined the conversation. Oh well, what was the worst that could happen? At Lee's comment, she politely waved him off. He wasn't giving himself or Arc enough credit. Sure, Arc's entrance was highly energetic, but it was better than complete apathy, right? "Oh, he's alright, he's just enthusiastic, that's all," Nia assured Lee. She noticed that Arcturus had yet to join them, although when she looked over at where he was last, she noticed he wasn't walking over. What was he doing? Her jaw dropped as she looked back at Claire and Lee, letting out a quiet laugh. "U-Um, let's convene with Arc, I'm sure he...he has some information we could use..." She said between laughs, covering her mouth as she tried to stop. She did fully pause, however, as she realized she failed to properly introduce herself. "Oh, I'm Nia. It's very nice to meet you, Miss Hartsfield." Deciding to approach Arc directly, she clasped her hands behind her back. "Are you alright, there?" She asked. "I tried to wave you over." --- --- @Grey@Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster Serena --- --- "Give the kid a break, grumpy." Serena rolled her eyes as Caderyn glared down Arc as if he wanted to vaporize him with the strength of his gaze along. "I don't get what you have against the kid. He's a bit loud, sure, but harmless for the most part. . . and makes for good eye candy for a few of the village girls if the rumor mill is anything to go by. Makes good business when they come and try to talk to the dolt." With that said, the red-haired woman looked over to see that Claire was still talking with Nia, but didn't seem to be taking down any notes like you'd expect an interviewer to do. Taking a sip from one of the glasses in front of her, Serena wondered what the spectacled reported had in mind but decided to leave her to it. She had done her part in setting everything up and telling Aiden that the girl was here, so everything else was up to him. "Before Ria comes and collects you both, either of you wants this drink? Seems like Nia and Company are stealing our reporter away from us and I'd hate to see it go to waste." @j8cob@pkken@Sanguine Rose----------------- "Glad to see you guys don't lose your sense of humor around here." Claire couldn't help but join Nia in her laughter as the strange blonde started to pose for seemingly no reason. She gave a nod of acknowledgment to Nia and Lee as she followed them over, risking a glance over at Serena as she did so. Seemed like the redhead wasn't moving to intercept her, so she was likely free to proceed with the group on their job. Glancing over at Lee, she couldn't help but notice another figure skulking around along the edges of the guildhall, with little lights that acted in a similar fashion to the stranges. . . illusions she wanted to say that the pale man had around him. "Uh. . . excuse me for assuming but. . . do you know that little girl over there? The one with the lights popping in and out of sight over her head?"@Hero@Grey@KiwiTime----------------- Road to Hilsgerd --- --- For one Trixia Blackfang, the last few days had been. . . less than stellar. Two days of nothing but watching the scenery go by, chilly nights on the roadside, a rather tasteless campfire broth, and similarly unappetizing trail rations. So far, the rest of today seemed likely to just be more of that as she sat on the back of the wagon while the trader that had requested the job managed the oxen pulling them along with nary a word to say. The entire trip he'd been fairly quiet and averse to conversation, speaking only in one or two words responses at best. "HEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy Trixie. . . whatcha lookin' at?" (Un)Fortunately, the man's son, Odin, proved to be much more sociable sort, having poked and prodded at the young girl for details and stories about how the guild was like, about her magic, about her life before the guild, and any other number of topics that a young merchant's son could think of as he tried his best to either get to know or irritate the girl. At present, he was sitting next to his father, turned around to give the young girl one of his beaming over-exuberant smiles. "I can't wait to show you the sights at Hilsgerd. Most people tend to think it's just a sleepy little town, but I'm telling you that if you know where to look, it can be quiet the fun little destination." He continued without even giving her room to really answer, gesturing to the road ahead where one could just make out the signature Windmill that marked the boundary town. While explicitly on the border between this region and the rest of Fiore proper, it was the first major settlement that people from Fiore are likely to pass through and as a result, often sees quite a bit of trade flowing through it. "There's that one pie shop that mother always loved to visit, the minstrel shows that play around midday, not to mention sneaking up to the old windmill. Oh, and let's not forget. . . " And so the boy would likely continue, spouting off about all of the mundane little pleasure to be found in the town unless Trixie saw fit to interrupt him.@Quincy----------------- Bludmach: Outskirts --- --- As the trio got themselves sorted out after their tumble in the back of the wagon, Klaus and Eldrid both would be made privy to another noise entering the marshlands, if only just so. Hidden in between the bursts of toxic bursts. . . a low grumble that was coming from. . . below. They would have only an instant to react before the entire wagon was suddenly launched skyward, flipping end over end and sending any unable to react in time soaring as well. Where the wagon had been situated, a shadowy creature stood instead, its form flickering as if it was not but a mirage brought on by the toxic swamp gases. But the strength which had launched the wagon was very much real and so was the toxic muck that some of the crew was about to fall into. Contact with the red mud with any exposed flesh would bring forth an almost searing pain as the caustic stuff began to eat away at their very flesh. Malone, for his part, was already getting ready to break his fall, curling into a ball to disperse as much of the force from landing as he could manage. That, mixed with the soft nature of the soil, made it so the force of the fall would not be too bad for anyone taking similar precautions, though it still knocked the wind out of him upon impact, seemingly unable to get up right away as he tried to catch his breath. They would be given scarely a moment to breath, however, as the creature continued its assault by tearing a path straight towards the weakest link in the group: Malon. @OwO@Asura</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Taking the sudden shake of the cart very well, the sickly Klaus sat dead still as a Ksavir launched through the air. Like some poorly written romance schlock, his hand had nested itself in a highly unprofessional place. Accidents happen. The sea dog knew that much. Though, if Eldrid had chosen to exact some form of retribution, he wouldn't really interfere. Such was sea law to let such small trifles (hey, it wasn't mutiny) be sort out by those involved. After they resituated themselves, a new noise made itself apparent. Something below. Oh lord, it wasn't a giant worm, right? Worms were pretty gross. Not that Klaus couldn't stomach them, metaphorically or literally. Their ribbed bodies and weird movement were kind of creepy. He could't warn anyone else before a sudden feeling of weightlessness came over him. The carriage that protected them from the bog had began to spin, something theorized by most as "very bad". For the first few flips, Klaus stuck inside the carriage, his rear practically glued to the seat. Around the fourth flip, his body was launched out of the carriage in the same position he had spent the entire trip in. Dogs were not to meant to fly. Klaus could swim and stay stable on any surface, but flying was out of his wheelhouse. Quickly turning to the advanced art of flailing, the wild dog spent his air time trying to land on his feet. Mud would soften the blow, but it was pretty much fetid shit. Probably had venereal disease in the muck too. But, by some miracle, he landed with enough grace to not get a face full of the toxic goo. His sleeve and pants took the brunt of the caustic mud. Thankfully, what did managed to splash onto his bare body had been rendered mostly null by the layers of fur that he possessed. But now was not the time to ascertain the damage. The MASSIVE wo—er, the reasonably sized (from his point of view) beast that caused all of the shit to unfold charged at Malon. It would require quick wit in order to get out of the bog unscathed. Or plain brute force. "I got'em! Tuck'n roll, Melon!" He bellowed at the marshrunner. Without much hesitation, Klaus drew his cutlass in one hand and pointed at Malon with the other. In an instant, the tip of a ghostly brigantine formed around Malon. The ship—its cannons suspiciously missing—erupted from the pressure the mud exerted on it and launched the entire ship directly at the beast. Thank goodness this was a swamp that smelled like liquid ass, Klaus thought for the first and last time in his life. Had it been regular dirt, his boat would have simply been stuck in the ground. Instead, multiple tons of boat had been turned into a projectile headed directly at the beast. Not the fastest attack, but a big ass boat on a collision course with one's skull was something that couldn't be ignored.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it. He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others. Appearance Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear. "Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it." \| N a m e: \| Klaus D'Arnagan \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 28 \| R a n k: \| A \| Guild Membership Status: \| Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them. \| Guild Seal Location: \| On the back of his left hand. \| History: \| Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him. He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild. \| Magic: \| With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| • Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces. • Excellent captain • Can handle his booze like nobody's business • Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur ○ His magic is heavily gimped on land ○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land ○ Stubborn like a mule \| Miscs : \| He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Lee Interacting with: @Raijinslayer@Grey Following Arc and Claire, Lee was quieter than normal. If the air was already cold, Lee and Violet were positively frozen as the two went on guard immediately. The dim lights were concerning admittedly, but they did not seem attached to any spirit Lee could recognize. "I'll admit, it could be worse, though I would be lying if I said I knew what is going on here. Just try not to stray from the group just in case us losing sight of the others immediately and the unnatural darkness didn't catch your attention." If this was anything like what the child experienced, there was no doubt they would have been lost almost immediately. Much like her father the air around her was cold, but filled with the familiar warmth of life that the small lights that oft accompanied the the two mages gave off in their presence "I don't feel anything yet, is that bad?" The lights danced around the Necromancers, even going as far as darting closer to the other two in the group, as if they were protective of the living mages they could recognize.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn Crashing into mossy soil and stone was never something to be triumphant about, but the sudden impact of the creature crashing to the marsh's floor was something of a win for Eldrid. It meant that the beast wasn't just going to skitter off back to its den the victor of this cowardly ambush. She hadn't expected to fell the thing with a few savaging blows, so its sudden shriek and reversal of the impromptu grapple she held on it did not surprise her much. Rather than try to struggle free from the monstrous creature as its shadowy maw grew to engulf her, she donned the wicked, battle hungry grin so common among those who practiced her magecraft. "Better than you have tried this, asshole!" Her hands slipped from its sides as its jaws saw fit to lock around her, fingers digging into the edges of its mouth in what one would assume to be a preventative measure to keep it from snapping closed on her. But it was not to keep it off her that she held so fast. Instead, it was to keep it from escaping her. Even as the whirring blades of its internal void sliced at her arms, the Dragonslayer inhaled a deep breath, the putrid swamp air mixing with the coppery scent of her blood. Then, with just as little warning as her earlier maneuver, she exhaled. Only, instead of the air she had sucked up, a cone of fire erupted from her mouth. Angry red dragonflame filled the beast's stomach in lieu of her flesh.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card The sea wolf had been too preoccupied with watching his two compatriots. Aye, he came along to ensure they wouldn't face permanent injury from the quest (and to ensure that a certain two people wouldn't ruin the reputation of the guild). To watch those kids (though they were at most 10 years his younger) scrap it out and try to help others filled him with a certain sense of pride. Wait, Malon was still being carted off by monster. Now wasn't the time for him to watch in pride. His thick fur that often protected him worked against him. It hid the feeling of him being sunk into the earth; he only realized once he was ankle deep. With all his strength, he resisted the creature's pull. He wasn't one to be beaten by his youngers, nor would he die in a place that wasn't the sea. No, he would sink with his ship in a blaze of glory. That was his chosen fate. A simple smoke monster that he could barely see thanks to his horrid dog vision? Not a chance. A ghostly green shape began to form on his back; a cannon's barrel pointed directly at the monster both above and below. With his back protected, the creature's bladed thrust had been redirected away from his broad back. At the same time, the cannon fired with a loud explosion. A flaming orb of spirits crashed through the smoky monster above and dragged their air with it. The pressure of the ball dragged what mud had been on his fur with it. The cannon itself, however, felt the recoil. The large frame smashed into the mud, erupting in an explosion of muck that was definitely felt by whatever was below. Klaus felt the recoil too, his body being sent even further into the ground. It wasn't far enough to trap him, though. With power in each step, he dragged himself out of the mud. How was he going to catch up with the flying Eldrid and help Malon? By stealing her idea of course. Aye, this wasn't something he would have wanted to done, but the situation called for it. He'd have to steal that technique that she used. With another cannon forming in front of him, he quickly clambered inside of the chamber. With another explosion, he was launched forward toward Eldrid. He'd make it, probably. His feet were in absolute pain and his hearing was shot from the two point-blank blasts, though. On the way overhead, he stuck out his hand for Ksavir. "Grab on, kid!" He yelled at the blood mage. For only a brief moment, the air dog's hand was reachable for the blood mage. Whether he came along or not was depending on how fast he could react to a wolf that was no longer restrained to land and sea.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- A Light in the Dark ✰✰✰ @Grey@KiwiTime --- --- --- --- Staring at the job board intently, Nia's eyes roamed the few jobs that lingered. The most interesting job had been snatched up right away, and the group had long departed. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, but so long as they stuck together and followed Klaus' lead, things would likely be alright. Her worry did fuel her indecision somewhat, part of her wishing she had some way of knowing how things went, another part of her subtly trying to figure out how much she still needed to make rent this month. She could probably skirt by the month with a small amount just under budget, but there were a few things she wanted to get for her little home that required more jewels than usual. At least, that was what she told herself; her apartment was minimalist at the moment, and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need more chairs for the seating area or a nice painting to hang on the empty wall, but she couldn't help herself. After letting out a wistful sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and randomly snatched a page off the board. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the lucky job--one Thoronia Whitecliff was requesting aid in finding her missing son. Oh, no, this was terrible and sad and--goodness, she felt herself tearing up already. There weren't very many details on the bill, instead asking for wizards to help her out. She frowned at the page, wondering what could have happened. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- The foul stench was getting to the sea dog. To a normal person, the stench of rot and bog water could be tolerated or ignored. His large physique could only recoil into itself to avoid the foul air. Seeing his imposing figure curled up and his large, clawed hands holding a much too small, soaked in spirits handkerchief to his nose was a sight to behold. Klaus was having an absolutely miserable time in the swamp on the outskirts of Bludmach. Why did he even come to a place so far away from the sea? The answer was responsibility. Having someone who—quite literally—joined the guild the previous day take an urgent, high-difficulty mission was a big red flag. Doing such a thing either meant you were sandbagging for most of your life or were an overconfident shmuck. The latter was always more likely. Having one of these types was bad enough, but two of them were bold enough to run headfirst into that four star quest wall. It wasn't like those elusive jobs undertaken by the greatest mages, though. Unless there was something really wrong, there was really nothing to stop people from overextending. Common sense, maybe, but nothing else. With Eldrid raging against the runner, the sickened Klaus piped up to rebuke her. "Oi, don't make trouble. Yer part of a guild now. Bein' a knob fucks it up for the rest o'us." He didn't really acknowledge the fact that his passive bonus to a party's intimidation played a pretty major part in getting the poor marsh runner to cart them in the first place.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Picking out just the right outfit that wouldn't get in the way and would still offer at least a bit of warmth was difficult. There were plenty that would do one or the other, and in the end, after piling almost all her clothes on her bed in various - seemingly incoherent - piles, Ria finally settled on a pair of skin tight shorts and tank top; no shoes - those would just get in the way. Her usual swimming attire, which she planned to pair with same spells she always cast for negating the cold of the harbor for her swims. But this time wasn't about a swim. The last thing she grabbed before leaving her room was the job flyer. If it hadn't been so late when she heard there was a job that would let her go swimming again, she would have been out on the bay already. For the past two weeks she'd planned to do just what the rest of the town was doing - waiting to see if Bessie would move back to deeper waters on her own. That wasn't happening, and now she'd get paid to do what she'd been considering. She didn't even care that it was a split between three people. A slight skip entered her step as she headed down to the ground level. "'Morning, everyone!" She waved at the gathered people at large as she walked over to the counter. "Serena, you made note that Cade and Will and me are going to deal with Bessie, right?" She pulled the flyer from where she'd stuffed it into her top. "They helped me find it yesterday. I figure it shouldn't take me long by myself, so with them helping - we'll have Bessie back out in the ocean by sunset. No problem!" It would just be a matter of waiting for her shopping buddies to be ready. She didn't want to wait long, but she wasn't about to start the job without them.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia shuddered slightly as they arrived, looking around a little nervously. Arcturus was right, something about this place was weird. She felt like something was going to jump out at them at any second, making it difficult for her to pay attention to the conversation. Keeping in a whimper of fear, she lightly smacked her face to snap herself out of it. She was a wizard for crying out loud! She had her keys, her magic...everything was going to be okay. No need to get scared. Right? Tuning back into the conversation, Nia did look around at the mention of lights. Oh this place was definitely haunted, wasn't it?! Quietly taking in a deep breath, she rubbed her arms as she listened. Unfortunately, runes weren't her specialty, and she couldn't say she was a huge fan of splitting up--this was like a horror story waiting to happen! That said, however, they were here to find the lost child, and he could be by himself and in need of help. So she nodded in agreement at Karna's statement, uncrossing her arms as she took a hold of her keys. "Okay, if we're splitting up, then..." She took a few steps back as she unhooked a silver key. Brandishing it, she channeled her magic into the key. "I call upon thee! Open, Gate of the Mirror: Meissa!" With a flash of light, a small, pixie-like creature appeared, its wings fluttering as she formed a circle. Once the circle completed, it split into two and a pair of mirrors formed, floating into Nia's hands. "We can use this to communicate," Nia suggested, offering the other mirror. "You know...just in case." She let out a nervous laugh. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Caderyn --- Ah, that makes it easy then, Cade thought to himself with a light chuckle as the mage passed out almost immediately after disembarking from his rowboat. "Alrighty then, the boat's yours Will. I'll keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty here." Since the guy passed out pretty hard Cade couldn't help but wonder how exhausting it was to hold up that barrier. Of course it would be way easier for him, because he's a badass with plenty of strength to spare. But the curiosity still lingered as he crouched down next to Kaito, making sure to turn the unconscious mage on his side. "I'd appreciate if you could get off the dock though..." he muttered to himself. "That barrier of yours ain't gonna last if this goes how I think it will..." With no further risk of the mage choking on his own tongue or vomit in case his condition got worse, Caderyn returned to his feet and looked back towards Ria and Will as they finished their final preparations before diving in. Literally, in Ria's case as she pointed out. Cade smirked at her joke and held out his left hand towards his partners, palm open and facing the sky. A bright glow could be seen radiating from underneath his sleeve, a white light as the magic seal on his arm activated. The light ceased to glow from his arm and instead a new glowing form manifested in the air above his open hand, quickly growing in size and taking the shape of a large bow. Once fully formed the glowing ceased, revealing that Cade had summoned his magic weapon, Eurytus. After he gripped the floating weapon he brought it back down to his side to take a distinctively non-combative stance. "I'm ready to save your asses if I'm right," he told Will and Ria, smirking confidently all the while. "Let's kick Bessie out now."</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was a half moment of hesitation, a moment that Ria debated going over and casting one of her restorative spells on Kaito, when she saw him collapse. She figured it was going to happen; she should have just done it when she was right beside him. But Cade seemed to have things well in hand. Chewing lightly on the inside of her cheek, she shook the thought from her head. Cade wouldn't let someone die. He'd get someone to help if Kaito is in real trouble. Her attention turned to the one-eyed (as far as she knew) mage. The concern and indecision vanished as she nodded. Her usual smile spread back on her face. "Don't be overeager and hurt her unless she is about to hurt one of us, please." She turned, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at Cade once more. "I'm counting on you to give signal if she's getting out of control. I don't want any more of my friends dropping off the barrier; I'll take it over if it starts to drop." She knew the spell from before she even moved here, they'd needed it from her before, but she had other barriers in mind. Stronger ones that relied on the force a dragon slayer could wield. The dragon slayer turned back to the sea, taking stock of the next wave to crash against the barrier simply from Big Bessie moving beneath the waves. She's just a giant lizard. Not even a dragon. This will be easy. She's just lost. Time to help her find her way out of here. Setting her feet like a sprinter, she ran for the edge and dove into the water. Her skin shimmered like light against water as she used the water around her to propel herself; she knew the water was frigid, hypothermia inducing, but her spell held both the cold and its dangers at bay.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card Personality The first thing most people notice about her is that Ria tries to always be courteous and cheerful, loving to be around people almost as much as she likes wide open spaces and anything shiny or brightly colored. A fan of anything upbeat, she can often be seen dancing or heard singing (usually both) out by the shore and around town, and generally moves with a skip in her step. She's generally reliable, and cares deeply for those in her guild, and those that in her town in general, and will do anything for them. She doesn't like to see people upset and will often go out of her way to try to cheer someone up. She often seems like a bit of a ditz - forgetful, aloof, and perhaps even a bit naive. There are still simple things that are common sense to others she often overlooks - like privacy, personal space, and basic decency; some see it as her ditzy ways, but it's more the childish naivety of not understanding other people may have different comfort levels than her, and her desperate desire to be around others. While not everyone gains automatic trust, if she sees someone she trusts trusting someone else - she'll be quick to trust that person. It can be easy to manipulate her, a soft word and a bit of kindness goes a long way, especially if presented options where one choice is clearly going to be best for more. Appearance Relatively petite by nature, Ria stands at only 5'3" and is often underestimated despite having a well toned physique, mostly because her muscle tone doesn't equal muscle mass. She only has slight curves, with a modest bust not terribly pronounced without help from clothing choices. Short layers of purple hair is still growing out, and currently reaches her chin; she tends to keep it messy (some of that a lack of remembering to brush it without one of the others in the guild reminding her) and her bangs are just long enough to brush into her eyes if she doesn't pin them up with a clip. One of the most noticeable features on her is the heterochromia of her eyes - one eye is blue, and the other is purple. Following that, a few scars scattered around her body - including a sizable one from right shoulder to left hip across her back and a 7" long one across her right thigh - which are often seen thanks to her typically 'less is more' approach to clothing. She likes clothes and dressing up, but prefers dressing in short skirts/dresses and "yoga pants"/"bike shorts" matched to boots or flats, and monochromatic tops in a variety of styles and colors that tend to show off her figure (though the fact her clothing preferences show off her figure is purely by coincidence as she feels those clothes are more comfortable than others she's worn.) She loves jewelry, often dawning multiple shiny or colorful bracelets and rings and earrings whether they match what she's wearing or not, but refuses to wear any kind of necklace or choker. "We are who we choose to be. Not what someone else made us." \| N a m e: \| Astoria Ocenade \| Alias\|Nicknames\|Titles: \| Ria Siren Wavebreaker \| G e n d e r: \| Female \| A g e: \| 17 \| R a n k: \| B \| Guild Membership Status: \| Ria joined the guild when it was formed, and has no intentions of leaving any time soon. She loves being a part of it, and wouldn't know what to do if it stopped being around. \| Guild Seal Location: \| Directly over her heart, blue \| History: \| Ria actually isn't sure what her last name really is. She was found by the Sea Dragon Cormenila when she was a toddler and the name full name she goes by is how she pronounced it all those years ago. Cormenila, despite the rumors of being a terror and thus causing the village Ria was born in to evacuate, was not as such. At least, not toward her. He was quite pleased the townspeople deserted, as he had been looking for a quiet place to live out his many long years left, but that solitude was not something he was awarded. He heard a strange sound and investigated only to discover a small child that instantly connected with him. He treated her well, initially more as a pet than anything else, but overtime grew more fond of her. From the beginning he saw a magical aptitude in her, and when she was a bit older he began to nurture it. The fact he'd started training her proved to be his only saving grace when they were attacked by a dark guild. Yes, he was a dragon, but the years of taking care of the human made him distracted when she was getting overwhelmed by the fight. He'd made up his mind when he first started training her in the ways of a dragon slayer, and convinced her that now was the time to take on the full power of a dragon. Ria rushed through the ritual to take his power into herself, to defeat the dark mages he hadn't, but she wasn't able to handle taking on the power and continue fighting. In her weakened state, she was captured - taken prisoner by the dark guild rather than killed - because as they saw it she was young and would be easy to manipulate to do what they wanted. For the first few months, she spent the majority of her time caged up in solitude for several failed attempts to escape whenever she was allowed out of "her room". Eventually, she was outfitted with a power restricting collar, and without her magic to back up her fight to be free, she stopped trying. It was shortly after, she was taken outside the base for the first time. Power restrictor removed, they convinced her the best way to earn freedom was to help - to use her power to destroy. She'd refused at first, and lives with the repercussions of that refusal on her conscious every day. By the end of the first year, she had become docile, the perfectly obedient pet - a weapon easily wielded by the guild's leader - she might have if Cormenila hadn't found her curiosity and magic intriguing those years ago, even without the need of a collar. Each job ate at her soul, though, even with all the training she'd undergone to obey her orders. Even Cormenila hadn't used his power to destroy towns, murder innocent people - not that she knew of anyways. The duality of these things - the influence of the guild/her inner dragon and what she'd been taught by her dragon father - combated within her for six long years. That all ended when the guild was destroyed. They'd released her to fight on their side, but she knew deep in her soul it was wrong. She'd fought the intruder anyways, quietly pleading for him to just leave instead of what she thought was sure to happen. She'd lost her fight, but was spared the same fate as the rest of her guild. She came too shortly after the leader - the last of the members left alive - was killed; she nearly shut down. Her dragon was gone. Her master, who had shown her kindness despite asking her to do such horrible things, was dead. She had no purpose, no direction. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, she followed the mage that had shown her mercy, and - in the process - freed her. Since joining Winter's Blade, Ria avoids talking about the last seven years of her life. When asked about her life before Winter's Blade, she focuses on talking about her dragon father and what he taught her so it may seem to many in the guild like she has only recently become a dragon slayer. \| Magic: \| Still working on controlling her inner dragon, Ria is a user of Sea Dragon Slayer Magic. While this can be a powerful offensive magic like all Dragon Slayer magics can, it has supportive sides to it as well. It's these parts, she prefers to use now, focusing on buffing her allies and debuffing her enemies. With buffs, she can make herself and others more resilient to attacks and the environment around them, or empower their physical and magical strength, or even make them faster and more agile. Whereas her magic may seem to help her allies swim with the current, the debuffs are like swimming against an undertow; she can slow opponents, make them feel drained of energy (both magical and non), and can even make others feel ill. She has even experimented with something her dragon father used to teach her - using her magic to heal someone of ailments or wounds; this latter one is still something she's working on, and only really works if she puts tons of energy into it, but she's certain she can manage to be a better back-up healer for the guild if she keeps trying at it. Both from training with her dragon father, and the work she did for the dark guild, she is formidable as a hand to hand combatant as she has the potential to be powerful. Like all dragon slayers, if she consumes her element - water - she can be reinvigorated, and has an immunity to her element - which in her case means she can absorb oxygen from the water through her skin to allow her to swim underwater for up to three hours and can dive to depths normal humans cannot without the assistance of pressurize stabilizing equipment. Outside of her slayer magic, she's been learning water magic from a local mage when they have time for her. This magic isn't nearly as powerful as her dragon slayer magic, but it is proving more versatile. She can use it utilitarian - such as creating bubbles of oxygen to allow others to swim underwater with her for longer periods of time - as well as restrictive to trap opponents in spheres and such of water to prohibit movement. She's learned a few offensive and defensive spells to utilize instead of her dragon slayer magic as a go-to for the start of combat and will continue with it until her instincts get the better of her. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| +Dragon Slayer +Determined +Sociable +Enthusiastic -Dragon Slayer -Clingy -Fears confined spaces and physical restraints (as well as neckwear) to the point of violence to avoid -Easily distracted \| Miscs : \| Demon's Maw may be destroyed, but their dark legacy lives on; Ria doesn't like being around any discussion of the group, but nothing sours her mood more than hearing mention of a dark mage named Typhoon. image from an internet search and photoshopped by DoomFlavored.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Eldrid Isfjellbarn Crashing into mossy soil and stone was never something to be triumphant about, but the sudden impact of the creature crashing to the marsh's floor was something of a win for Eldrid. It meant that the beast wasn't just going to skitter off back to its den the victor of this cowardly ambush. She hadn't expected to fell the thing with a few savaging blows, so its sudden shriek and reversal of the impromptu grapple she held on it did not surprise her much. Rather than try to struggle free from the monstrous creature as its shadowy maw grew to engulf her, she donned the wicked, battle hungry grin so common among those who practiced her magecraft. "Better than you have tried this, asshole!" Her hands slipped from its sides as its jaws saw fit to lock around her, fingers digging into the edges of its mouth in what one would assume to be a preventative measure to keep it from snapping closed on her. But it was not to keep it off her that she held so fast. Instead, it was to keep it from escaping her. Even as the whirring blades of its internal void sliced at her arms, the Dragonslayer inhaled a deep breath, the putrid swamp air mixing with the coppery scent of her blood. Then, with just as little warning as her earlier maneuver, she exhaled. Only, instead of the air she had sucked up, a cone of fire erupted from her mouth. Angry red dragonflame filled the beast's stomach in lieu of her flesh.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- The sea wolf had been too preoccupied with watching his two compatriots. Aye, he came along to ensure they wouldn't face permanent injury from the quest (and to ensure that a certain two people wouldn't ruin the reputation of the guild). To watch those kids (though they were at most 10 years his younger) scrap it out and try to help others filled him with a certain sense of pride. Wait, Malon was still being carted off by monster. Now wasn't the time for him to watch in pride. His thick fur that often protected him worked against him. It hid the feeling of him being sunk into the earth; he only realized once he was ankle deep. With all his strength, he resisted the creature's pull. He wasn't one to be beaten by his youngers, nor would he die in a place that wasn't the sea. No, he would sink with his ship in a blaze of glory. That was his chosen fate. A simple smoke monster that he could barely see thanks to his horrid dog vision? Not a chance. A ghostly green shape began to form on his back; a cannon's barrel pointed directly at the monster both above and below. With his back protected, the creature's bladed thrust had been redirected away from his broad back. At the same time, the cannon fired with a loud explosion. A flaming orb of spirits crashed through the smoky monster above and dragged their air with it. The pressure of the ball dragged what mud had been on his fur with it. The cannon itself, however, felt the recoil. The large frame smashed into the mud, erupting in an explosion of muck that was definitely felt by whatever was below. Klaus felt the recoil too, his body being sent even further into the ground. It wasn't far enough to trap him, though. With power in each step, he dragged himself out of the mud. How was he going to catch up with the flying Eldrid and help Malon? By stealing her idea of course. Aye, this wasn't something he would have wanted to done, but the situation called for it. He'd have to steal that technique that she used. With another cannon forming in front of him, he quickly clambered inside of the chamber. With another explosion, he was launched forward toward Eldrid. He'd make it, probably. His feet were in absolute pain and his hearing was shot from the two point-blank blasts, though. On the way overhead, he stuck out his hand for Ksavir. "Grab on, kid!" He yelled at the blood mage. For only a brief moment, the air dog's hand was reachable for the blood mage. Whether he came along or not was depending on how fast he could react to a wolf that was no longer restrained to land and sea.</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card A shiver ran up Ria's spine when she finally gave herself a moment to focus on her surroundings. It had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with how eerily empty the bay was. She didn't like it one bit. The bay, the sea, the ocean were supposed to be more lively than this. Even for a bit of fishing trouble, she expected to see more than just Bessie. She shook the thought from her head as she propelled onward. She dove a bit deeper, circling wide to keep Bessie fully in her sights. Big as Bessie was, she wasn't about to assume the beast couldn't maneuver fast. There were plenty of creatures that were large and seemingly slow, but could move when they wanted to. Her head tilted slightly as she observed Bessie for a long moment. The more she watched the creature before her, the more she was reminded of swimming with Cormenila. She had to shake her head to refocus. All right. Let's get you out of here. The dragon slayer stopped, treading water where she was, before finally summoning a current and pushing it toward Bessie to get the beast's attention. She would only wait long enough to figure out if it worked before taking off further out to sea - should Big Bessie respond to the prod.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Locals getting roughed up by the guild's manager was nothing new. Ria hadn't even thought twice about it really. The woman wouldn't have just roughed him up for fun, so obviously he had to have done something and whatever it was, Serena had taken care of it. What had taken some of the wind out of the girl's sails was the way Serena talked about Bessie. She always took the woman's advice to heart even if she learned later that the advice was actually just a joke. But where something might have been emotionally joking, one of the many things she had learned was that she never joked when warning about personal safety. At least, not when it was a serious job. Chasing off Bessie was a serious job. If not for the sake of the fishermen getting back to work, then for the sake of their barmaids not having to put up with daily harassment. Well that was going to take some thought. A lot more thought than she'd originally given the task. Originally she figured she'd just dive on in and get Bessie to follow her out to the sea, but she hadn't really studied how fast the beast was. If she was as fast as Cormenila, it would certainly take a bit more than she anticipated. Well, that was what Cade and Will were for. She could go in a direction and deal with a problem, but this planning thing was going to take someone that could plan. The whole reason she took it was because she could do the bit in the water and others couldn't. The only way this would have been easier would have been if Klaus hadn't gone to keep an eye on two of the other slayers in the guild on a more fighty job. The thoughtful look vanished from the young mage's face, quickly chased off by her typical smile, at the request to fetch Aiden. She heard of Sorcerer's Weekly; people talked about it. She opened her mouth to respond but heard Cade speak up from behind her. After a moment to process he'd shown up, the smile was back. "Well, we're just waiting on Will now. Then we have to figure everything out. Bessie may take a bit more than I figured since we just want to chase her off an' not kill 'er. But we'll talk about all that when Will gets here." Ria pushed off the counter with a bit of a bounce. "Serena asked me to go get Master Aiden, so I'll be right back. 'Kay? Don't go leaving without me!" She turned and bounded off toward the guildmaster's office. Knowing him, if he was doing paperwork like Serena implied, he'd fallen asleep. That safe assumption was confirmed when she stepped into the office. If it wasn't for the paperwork, he'd get a quick dose of water to get him going. Considering that meant the paperwork Serena didn't want messed with would be soggy at best, she had to decide on something else. Something less...hydrating. After a few moments of scratching her head, she finally shrugged. Tried and true was probably best. So she walked up to the guildmaster and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Master Aiden? Serena said someone from Sorcerer Weekly is here to see you. You gotta get up," she said softly while giving his shoulder a gentle shake.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- The tap and unfamiliar voice caught Nia's attention, the girl blinking in confusion. Oh, right, Serena did mention that a reporter would be coming around. But she didn't think she was going to get approached, but she supposed that the guild's more excitable members were either occupied or had already taken off on other jobs. Her eyes flickered from Claire's face to the lacrima, and she realized that she was just a little nervous. She'd rather not have any pictures taken, but she didn't see any photo-taking lacrima on her. Well, if it was just an interview, it should be alright. She'd have to decline any pictures if asked and answer a question. "Indeed, I am," Nia replied cheerfully before catching Arcturus' announcment. She tried to keep herself composed, though a tiny sigh escaping her. Putting two fingers to her lips, she let out a shrill whistle, waving Arc over before turning back to Claire. She gave her an exasperated smile, nodding. "Never a dull day here, I can assure you." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card Kvasir had been busy punching trees outside until his knuckles were raw, but more importantly trying for the last half an hour to catch quite the elusive fly that had been pestering him for the last several days. This however was not guild etiquette especially in display of any onlookers even reporters to say the least. The violent giant still fresh blood to the guild was gently reminded of this by Aiden when he came waltzing outside. The mage full of grace and poise snatched the fly out of the air by its wings before handing it to the savage brute. He crushed it just as quickly as he obtained it leaving nothing more than a litany of body parts. Aiden spoke of a mission to some place called Bludmach, he didn't really pay much attention besides a few grunts to show he was fine with whatever the guild needed. The wagon was more or less, broken. It was quite the miracle it was able to house Kvasir, Eldrid who was rivaling his stature for a woman, and the dog that could stand on just his hind legs. Whether it was a party trick or magic, Kvasir couldn't tell but similarly found it too exciting to care. Bludmach's decrepit environment had done nothing in the way of alarming Kvasir. He had been used to seeing harsh environments on his way to Winter's Blade from the countryside. Unfortunately for Klaus, Kvasir's attention had been on him the entirety of the ride. Kvasir couldn't help but feel a strange compulsion to comb through the dog's fur looking for any kind of fleas or ticks. "Haha silly doggy" he thought until he was violently thrown across the wagon into the fiery red head. Kvasir propped himself up with what appeared to be a hand on Eldrid's bosom.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- --- --- Nia couldn't stop herself from letting out a polite laugh at Arc's reasoning. It wasn't going to be the first or last time they misinterpreted one another, she supposed. But it was all in good fun! And more importantly, no harm done. The duo turned into a trio and then a group, and soon it was herself, Arc, Lee, and Karna all accompanied by the reporter as they left the guild. Nia tugged at the sleeve of her coat as she listened to Arc talk about Mrs. Whitecliff with a small frown on her face. A missing child was enough to worry any decent person, she couldn't possibly imagine the anguish the poor mother was going through at the moment. That said, she was pulled out of her thoughts as Claire spoke. Shoot, she was hoping to avoid an interview by focusing on the mission. At the mention of Serena, however, she did raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Serena could be intimidating sometimes, but she was harmless. Well, mostly harmless. "Ah, no, your assumption is correct," Nia cleared her throat, putting on a polite smile. "I came here from Crocus some time ago and heard about the guild through some very spirited banter in a tavern. Well, not so much spirited as instead it was more of a heated debate on mages and the effect on the town..." She uttered the last part, although she quickly shook her head and perked up. "Aiden was kind enough to accept me, and for that I am grateful. Getting to be in a guild is more fun than I imagined." --- --- @Raijinslayer --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Yes, it certainly did sound like they had a plan. Ria's problem wasn't just coming up with a plan, it was sticking to it. If they had a communication lacrima so Cade could keep watch from the shore and tell Will and maybe she'd hear it one of the times she surfaced. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be staying under the entire time, but she certainly wasn't going to be able to hold onto a communication lacrima and deal with Bessie. The blast of frigid air that proceeded their guildmaster's grand entrance hit like a punch in the chest. She could stand outside without her spell cast for a decent amount of time in what she was wearing before she'd really feel the chill, but that was the natural environment. The Ice-Maker magic Aiden used put White Harbor's frigid gusts to shame. A shiver ran down her spine, but a smile spread on Ria's face all the same watching the display of his maker-magic. "Okay, let's go," she laughed as Serena broke the news to Aiden - that the interview was off. They had more important things to do than delay starting their job. "As you said before, the sooner we start - the sooner we might be able to finish and get something to eat." Ria didn't mind the questioning - and sometimes criticizing - glances she got walking down to the docks. She was used to the judgemental looks when she headed out for a swim. The cold didn't bother her until the spell wore off, and generally by then she was already on her way back to the guildhall. That's what she figured would happen again this time. She never really timed how long it took for her spell to wear off, but she figured they had plenty of time, especially since she was going to be out in her element. "So, Cade, you're staying on the docks, right? I'll be counting on you to help try to keep an eye on how things are going. I know the split between the bay and deeper waters below water, but I won't be able to tell how far I'm getting her out if we stay close to the surface. Will, if you're coming out with me, did you already secure a boat?" She looked at him. "Or were you planning on swimming too?"</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card It was out of the frying pan and into the fire or so it seemed. There wasn't but a moment of reprieve for Kvasir nor his comrades when the wagon was once again launched ass if it were made of paper mache. Before the wagon was launched and he had been laughing at the talking dog a shiver passed through him as the hairs on his neck stood on end. It wasn't the swamp causing the problems this time, it was something else or rather someone else. His instincts reacted faster than his mind like always. Using the momentum in which the wagon was tumbling, Kvasir propelled himself off the wagon and towards the direction of the beast instead of backing away. Klaus had a similar plan but instead sent his ghoulish ships to bombard the strange figure. Hopefully the cannon fire and sheer size of the ship would cloak Kvasir's body as he rocketed towards the fiend. It was all for not however since Klaus' attack seemed sufficient enough to put down the creature. Kvasir never trusted one attack to fully euthanize an enemy. To ensure he was dead, Kvasir landed viciously onto the ground beside the creature before raising his foot to bring it down aiming to curb stomp the creatures head.</s>
<\|description\|>Guild Membership Card --- Personality Kvasir is very basic in principle when it boils down to personality. He is almost devoid of any and all learned behavior and nuanced traits. Bare to the bone, the best way to describe Kvasir would be a rabid dog. He has no real concept of what right and wrong is nor the civility between humans in an open setting. Instead Kvasir relies on his basic animal instinct, his gut has never steered him wrong and he has gotten this far without need for anything else. Though near feral and paranoid, he however can become a loyal companion that bends to authority depending on who he becomes subservient to with enough time and compassion. Appearance Kvasir is a god among men, both literally and figuratively. His godlike physique can only be attributed to the blood pumping through his body and the sinful inclusion of his god Kvasir. His height is a staggering 6'3 while he weighs an impressive 190 pounds. This amount of mass lends itself to his chiseled physique than can be visually seen from the definition in his arms, chest, and leg muscles. His eyes are a piercing emerald green with waves of lush chestnut colored hair, one strand locked in a braid hanging off to the side of his face. He is naturally adorned in brown and golden robes that allow ease of movement when in combat. A wrapped headband in the same fashion as his robe and pants with the addition of golden jewelry around his neck and fingers. --- "Let me go first." \| N a m e: \| Kvasir \| Alias\|Nickames\|Titles: \| Bloody Mess \| G e n d e r: \| Male \| A g e: \| 20 \| R a n k: \| C+ \| Guild Membership Status: \| Fresh off the boat \| Guild Seal Location: \| On top of his tongue \| History: \| While most humans' lives revolved around magic, Kvasir's world revolved around religion. The recollection of events shy of the first mark of sin on his body have all been repressed and practically purged from his mind. Kvasir wasn't his birth name nor one chosen by him, instead it was one granted to him by the group at large. You see Kvasir was born into a family that was victim to a cult. The cult wasn't renown or heard of outside the parcel of land they claimed atop the snowy mountains secluded from the rest of the world and their tales of magic and monsters. Instead they were their own monsters. The cult itself believed in many gods that were dictated by a dichotomous view of the world. These gods eventually organized themselves into two separate tribes that had gotten along until a break down in relations plummeted the two into war. To save you from the details, Kvasir's story revolves around one god that the cult worshipped religiously who was known as none other than Kvasir himself. This is important for he did not share the same name as their god until the aftermath that ensued. You see Kvasir was their god of wisdom considered to be the wisest of all beings. There was no question for which he did not have a ready and satisfying answer. He took up the life of a wanderer, dispensing his wisdom to all whom he met along the road. When he came to the house of two dwarves, Fjalar ("Deceiver") and Galar ("Screamer"), they killed him and drained his blood into three containers. They told the gods that Kvasir had suffocated from an excess of wisdom. The two dwarves then brewed mead by mixing Kvasir's blood with honey – the Mead of Poetry. In fairness this religious sham of a cult operated in the vein of Fjalar and Galar rather than the god himself; true wisdom falling on deaf ears. So, in order to obtain this wisdom, the cult need a spring to drink from, one that bore the bountiful fruit of wisdom. But how could they cultivate and allow for something so sacred and rare to grow? Their greed and ambitions turned to the children. You see in order to carefully curate this fruit they needed the wisest of all vessels. Children were often seen as innocent, smart, and quick to learn while adults were past the age of ripeness. The idea that wisdom could be harvested from children became their mantra. And so, with the finest of rituals the cult began to create their vessel for wisdom. This was done in a few steps, first was collecting the first son from every family, followed by carefully examining them medically to ensure they were free from ailments or disease. After that, was an arduous and tedious learning regime spanning from the age of recruitment all the way to their coming of age in what was otherwise known as puberty. Whomever was to score the highest at the end of their cycle would be nominated as their sacrifice, their cult mentally ruling out any qualms of this barbaric process. Once chosen they would be bled to death over days until there was enough blood to be passed around the cult, those who weren't chose were integrated back into their families. The yearly ritual was fast approaching and Kvasir being the second son born to his family was safe from being chosen. This however meant his brother would be chosen in his stead. Yet his brother struggled in his studies and was fearing the judgement of his family for not being a front runner in their tradition. Confiding in Kvasir his brother asked for help, safe from the ritual he reluctantly accepted in servitude to his brother. As he began to teach his brother, he learned that the material was easy and quickly absorbed into his mind. It was almost a day and night change with his brother's aptitude after a few weeks practice, he would for sure be picked. It wasn't until a routine medical evaluation that he learned he disqualified due to the growth of a sickness inside him. Instead of waiting for the following years harvest they took Kvasir as tribute instead. At first, he played the idiot and tried to fail through the exams, but he was quickly reminded lying led to pain. His scores blowing his contemporaries out of the way led him to being chosen as this year's tribute. While everyone had been blindly led to follow their fake gods practice, he had the wisdom to know they were wrong, he protested his god and rejected his teachings. His rebellion was ignored as they tied him up to his fate. His vision was fading, becoming blurry, his mind slipping away from this ritual sacrifice. He pleaded to any god that could hear him that if they helped him escape, he would become a vessel for them to live through. Only one god answered and that was Kvasir himself, ironic as he rejected him. The blood that pooled out of him retreated inside his body leaving some still outside to coat his hands in the form of blades. Free from his bindings he eviscerated his cult family and drained them, using whatever blood was left to be taken inside his body. On purely instinct, Kvasir was driven and drawn to the city of white harbor where he collapsed in front of the Winter Blade's Guild. \| Magic: \| Blood God Slayer Magic (血の滅神魔法Chi no Metsujin Mahō) Is a rare specialized god slayer magic that deals with the element of blood, that is red and black in color. Kvasir can manipulate his own blood in a multitude of ways but most notably scene in weaponized constructs. ᚶ Rune Magic ᚶ (文字の魔法 Moji no Mahō) Native to only Kvasir as of now, Rune magic is a form of combination magic from enchantment magic and letter magic. The blood used from either himself, his magic, or a foreign blood source will act as the ink to the start of his magic. Once he draws a nordic rune on his body he can activate a magic relating to the meaning of his mark depending on whether it is Elder or Younger Futhark. \| Strengths and Weakness: \| Strengths: Excels in close range combat Fearless Tenacious Athletic in and out of combat (Running, jumping, swimming) Weaknesses: Can become frenzied and lose himself in battle Has a hard time being social Can't replenish his reserves from long range Rash \| Miscs : \| When in combat he adorns what can be seen as gauntlets which house two hooked hidden blades, blood drawn from these feed into a tube that goes directly into Kvasir's skin.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Membership Card --- --- Seeing the beast rise out of the water trying to get something, Ria smirked a little. This is going to be fun. Bessie was about the same size as Cormenila. She loved chances to spar with him. This was just going to be less fighting, and more tag. "Just like a game of tag," she muttered to herself with a nod. Fun. Her attention turned back to Will when he offered her the magical ring. Her eyes lit up, smirk turning an excited grin. "Oh, wow! This is so cool!" She took it and slid it onto the pinkie of her offhand. If she did need to throw a punch while dealing with Bessie, she didn't want to make it hurt more from the ring, or break the ring in the process. That would kind of ruin the point. She held up her hand to both watch it adjust to size and admire it. "So awesome." She looked over at Cade when he joked about needing one. She laughed. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on us." The smile left her face as she realized he was helping one of the barrier mages off the boat. She jogged over to help the mage off his boat. Surely that was why Cade was here too. "Hey, Kaito. Bessie isn't leaving as fast as I was told she would, huh? We're going to get her on her way." She offered the mage a smile. "You shouldn't have to go back out again to deal with her tidal waves. So rest up and relax, 'kay?" She waved as she walked toward the far end of the dock. "Right, guys, are you ready? Time to dive right in, right?" She laughed at her own pun.</s> <\|message\|>Guild Roster White Harbor --- --- "W-wha. . ." The young man looked between Cade and Vectis with glazed eyes, barely able to focus on their words before Ria piped up. Kaito looked at the small girl with a slow turn of the head, a hand holding up his head as he stumbled his way into a seating position. "R. . . Ria? I'm sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now. Been. . . holding up the barrier. . . four hours. . . so . . . tired." With a groan, the poor mage fell backward, sprawling out along the dock with his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He was still alive but obviously pushed well past his limits in keeping the rogue waves conjured by the massive sea creature from wrecking the town. Luckily, that meant that there was nothing stopping the group from nabbing the small boat for themselves. Rose The North(east)ern Grove --- --- Claire The reporter listened to all of the group's responses with keen interest, writing down notes on her lacrima slate. She offered a small apologetic nod to Karna for her assumption that she wasn't a native, feeling more than a little embarrassed for the misstep. At Lee's insistence on taking a child with them, however, she couldn't help but furrow her brow. "Isn't this a quest revolving around a missing child? I'm not on expert on these things, but that seems a hair irresponsible of you to do as her caretaker." Tapping her stylus against her tablet, she wrote down a few more notes with a frown before tucking it away to approach the symbol that Arc had pointed out. With a slight incantation, she conjured a magical seal in her palm to run over the symbol. Her eyes lit up for a moment, rapidly shifting images fluttering across her iris before she let them fall shut with a shudder. Taking a step away, she brought a finger to her chin, tapping at it in deep thought as she considered the marking. "In any case, this symbol you pointed out is. . . old. Really, really old. My Archive's database can barely pull up anything about them. If i can hazard a. . . rough translation, I'd say that they all seem to imply no small amount of danger to anyone passing this threshold." She slipped a none to conspicuous glance towards Lee as she said this, eyebrow raised but choosing to continue talking to the group as a whole rather than making further comment. "I can't really read anything else besides that, but if we're going to split up at all, I'm probably going to stuck with you, Arc. Call it a hunch." @Grey@KiwiTime@Inkarnate</s>	<\|message\|>Guild Membership Card There was almost no sign left of the monster that attacked them. Kvasir grew impatient and angry when he had nothing to crush under the weight of his foot. His senses were still heightened as he didn't trust this was all that was left of the beast who challenged him for authority. The words in the background were inaudible to him but not the sound of tendrils smacking the marsh runner's skull into the ground. Kvasir almost snarled in reaction until his vision was interrupted and forced to cut to underneath him. Blobs similar to that of the creature formed underneath them sprouting tendrils of their own. Had he simply stayed there the tendrils would sure enough pull him into the caustic center. In one swift action his chest puffed out and the veins from his body expanded through the skin. A deep howl left his lungs before blood shot out from his body in what seemed to be a concession of blades. Tendrils were cut and sliced like pieces of squid. He had to put some distance between him and the blobs and closer to the monster at the center of this. Propelling himself off the goo monster he touched solid earth once more and took off behind it and the marsh runner. Whatever the dog and the red headed woman chose to do was up to them.</s>
<\|description\|>CT 6871 "Carter" Age: 15 or so? Would probably look like mid-to-late 20s. Race: clone trooper Brief Bio: Carter is a Spaarti clone trooper and member of the 14th infantry brigade, who were created by Lord Palpatine himself near the end of the clone wars. Due to the point in time at which he was created, Carter only managed to get sent on a few missions, but had proved himself to be a dedicated and skilled soldier during them; enough so that the senator himself caught wind of the trooper's prowess. Impressed, and with need to protect a recently acquired specimen from the old Sith order; Palpatine called Carter up from his service and stationed him as bodyguard of the entity known as "Vehia". Carter was given the amount of time he needed to select gear to be taken with him, was briefed on what exactly he was to do, and was sealed into a cryo-stasis pod and placed in the warehouse alongside that he was to guard; the pod set to thaw him out if Vehia's were ever opened. Carter's orders were precise and had two objectives. The first was to ensure that when Vehia was activated, she wouldn't let slip of her true nature, or at the very least any slips were to be cleaned up with 0 witnesses to spread the word. The second was to stay at Vehia's side and, unless contradicting the 1st objective, follow her requests and instructions. Due to this, as well as the fact he was in cryo-sleep as the order was given; Carter missed the call to kill the Jedi that came with the fall of the republic and the rise of the empire. He is loyal to the orders he was given now, whatever that may end up meaning for those around him. Faction: Due to his orders, Carter has no strict loyalty other than to Vehia. If the emperor were still around this may be different, but that man has recently been removed from power, leaving Carter's only superior to technically be the bioweapon in his charge. Personality: Carter has always had a professional air to him, acting almost more like an officer than a soldier at times. This doesn't mean he was ever cold or strict as a person, just that he took his duties with a certain stoicism. This does add a slight predictable side to him though; as using whether he's acting rather relaxed and cool-headed or silent and focused can tell you whether you're in the clear or if he's about to start blasting anyone in sight he deems an obstacle in his tasked mission. Physical description: Carter looks about as masculine and well built as one would expect for a clone trooper, however his body is considerably less scared than the average clone due to his low mission count. One would not be too blameable for thinking him to be a shiny if you took a look at his face. He has one scar across his lower left side thanks to a close encounter with a B-2 super, but that's still far less than several of the veteran troopers out there. Equipment: * DP-23 shotgun * DC-17S silenced blaster pistol * A few thermal detonators, just in case</s> <\|message\|>CT 6871 "Carter" "20 odd years, right. Seems I have a lot of catch up work to do." Carter slowly steps out of the cryopod, keeping his shotgun ready but not directly aimed at Holdo. From the display given she was clearly not a threat, and while this other guy was far more competant, he seemed to be neutral enough. All the same he'd be cautious, scanning the room for anything else of note, including the pod containing his mission target, his footsteps slow and precice as he backed off from the woman who had woken him up. If nothing else, these two could prove helpful with catching him up on the time he'd spent in the deep freeze. "First off, who are you two?"</s> <\|message\|>Vaugtri Earhen "Thats a long story you see after the Clone Wars the Republic became an Empire because Palpatine claimed the Jedi tried to assassinate him and turned the Republic into an Empire and all that fun stuff. The Senate being full of monarchies and dictatorships thought it was the tightest spast and kept going for the next oh 20 Years or so before getting dissolved after they built the Deathstar, a superweapon that can crack worlds." Earhen continued rambling on with the historical lesson "Get to the point dammit!" Holdo yelled. The nearby guards were tense as well but what could they do a Vat grown killing machine holding their commanding officer hostage. "Fiiine I was enlightening this gentlemen on the current state of Galactic politics excuse me for being enthusiastic. We were initially the Alliance to restore the Republic then the Alliance of free Planets now we're the New republic now. Basically the new boss to your old boss cloney."</s>	<\|message\|>CT 6871 "Carter" "I see..." Carter said. So the chancellor overthrew the Jedi order and became the leader of an empire for two decades before being kicked out of power by these New Republic people. This brought to question the idea of 'what now?'. His loyalty did technically lie with the republic last he checked, but he fought directly underneath Palpatine. Not to mention his cover was a Couroscant guard soldier. Were these people his enemies or allies? He thought for a moment... His objectives were to keep Vehia's nature secret and to follow her orders... Well, that solves that dillema. Carter lowers his gun, stepping into a simple at-attention stance with safety on and barrel to the floor. "In that case, specialist CT 6871, codename Carter. I worked as part of the Corouscant guard until being tasked with acting the bodyguard for a high risk VIP named Vehia by the Jedi council. Speaking of which, where might the cryopod for her be located?"</s>
<\|description\|>Tasaia Straka Age: 38 Race: Farghul Brief Bio: Tasaia remembers very little from her childhood and early teens as it was all a haze of sedative induced docileness. Slavers stole her from the Farrfin city of Jahhnu after her parents stung the slavers with a sabacc scam. The slavers were penniless and took their daughter to repay the losses. Her parents, being unarmed and unable to compete with blasters, had to let them go. Tasaia was kept sedated as she grew to prevent any sort of attacks on anyone owning her. Until she turned fourteen, owners of her used her for two things: house duties and eye candy. She was cute and soft, so she would be on a couch by her owner at events to put visitors at ease and give her owner something to pet. She was not a slave long enough to become involved in dancing or prostitution. Her owner, a human of Susevfi, attracted the attention of the Jensaarai after a small incident of Tasaia inadvertently Force Pushing a visitor that was petting her too hard. The Jensaarai, a human woman named Kiara Straka, found the sedated slave and decided to take her in for training. As expected, her owner was frothing, but attempting to combat Kiara led to him bisected from her lightsaber. Tasaia's first memories were of three days after that, waking up in a Jensaarai medical bed with Kiara asleep across her lap. The two grew close, Kiara treating the young Farghul much like her daughter, even going so far as to name her and share a surname. Tasaia took to the training well, her predatory nature and independant mindset leading her to learn and perfect techniques easily. By the age of sixteen, she had reached her first milestone of mastering the basics. By eighteen, she made her lightsaber, an unusual combination of dual phase and saberstaff. The saber, when only using one side, could be extended up to three meters in length, functioning much as a two-handed sword. Unlike her peers, she did not gather her own crystal due to the short time of her training. Instead, she intentionally made four compressed synth crystals that made her saber midnight blue with an indigo core. The compressed crystals made the blade thinner and small energy oscillations run up the blade every three seconds. This afforded greater precision and control, thus making the extremely long blade of the dual phase much easier to control. Following her creation, Tasaia resumed her training, taking it at an accelerated pace. She managed to fully catch up to her peers and began crafting her armor within one year. While she was busy crafting and imbuing her armor, the isolation of her meditation and forging insulated her from the sudden partial purge of her people. Her mother was one of the casualties. Following the mediation and crafting in the isolated base, she was informed of her loss and the events as she was elevated to the status of defender. Feeling alone for the first time in her life, Tasaia went into self-imposed seclusion, training and working alone as she grieved Kiara's death at the hands of Palpatine. After a year, she decided to leave the planet and the Jensaarai behind. She felt no more kinship with them nor did she continue sharing their isolationist ideas. Tasaia, through a combination of her Force powers to mask her appearance and the help of a smuggler, managed to get offworld without incident. Once offworld, she discovered that the smuggler was also Force sensitive and was actually a part of a lesser known tradition. The Disciples of Twilight, as the man explained, worked quietly from within a society to protect and help the citizens. They particularly opposed tyranny and abuse of power. The smuller, actually a Disciple, let the young ex-Jensaarai know that he sensed her power and sought to potentially bring her into the fold. Luckily, Tasaia was drawn naturally to the Disciple mindset and decided to join him. From there, she traveled to Dyspeth and trained. Her already considerable ability with Force Illusion made her learn the unique powers of the Disciples within short order. Her mastery of the new powers came a year later. In 2 BBY, she finally left Dyspeth and began travelling the galaxy, protecting people as she went. This was a direct continuation of her training. She observed the infancy and development of the rebellion into a full-feldged military power. She saw the Empire cracking down on civilians. The war was not overly interesting to her as she had her hands full preventing the corruption and mistreatment of citizens, especially non-humans, among Empire territories. Her travels ended temporarily when she had to make a crash landing on Yavin IV following a pirate attack. On Yavin, she found the remnants of the Rebel base and some leftover ship parts and items. Using her technical ability and trial and error, Tasaia developed enough expertise in her ship model to repair and modify it using the parts she could find and salvage. She found a servant droid and astromech droid powered down but still intact. Upon reactivation, the droids became mainstays in her life for the 3 years she was alone, affording her some proficiency in binary. Once the modification and settling was finished, it was a scant few days before Luke arrived on the moon. Seeing them on some long range scanners that she managed to mostly reactivate, Tasaia managed to hide herself and ship in a nearby jungle. The Jedi landed and began whatever he had intended. Thus, since then, Tasaia has kept herself and her ship cloaked, making ventures to observe Luke's plans and actions while sensing no Dark Side in the group. Faction: Disciples of Twilight: Defected from Jensaarai after Disciples helped her learn of the galaxy, and she agreed with their worldview. Personality: Possessed of a highly independant streak and focus, Tasaia is an autodidact more often than a student. She will find materials or processes and learn them on her own rather than relying upon a group. However, she is very used to directed learning as she spent years under the guidance of Kiara. These traits make her highly knowledgeable and well-rounded in a variety of topics as well as granting her at least a passable skill in many procedures. Her self-education focused primarily upon medical and mechanical fields. Her mechanical expertise is mostly restricted to blasters, weapons, and armor for sentients. Outside of her education, she tends towards being witty and gregarious, often accidentally invading someone's personal space. What transpires next is very much feline. If she has been enjoying the company or meets a friend, she will then generally rub up against them a little. If not, she will normally not even get close. She holds her head high and is far from meek, though her small size and relatively high chance to simply first observe makes her prone to being forgotten. She finds the sudden surprise of when she speaks up quite amusing. She is virtually aromantic, though it is more a facade than an actual aversion to romance. It is partially a fear of loss and partially a matter of not yet finding someone she could like in that way. In addition, she has absolutely no interest in marriage or children and finds very small children annoying. Adults that tend to act childlike also tend to grate on her nerves. Tasaia is not prone to conning people, but she uses her innate conning ability to outsmart or con those harmful to the citizens around her. She usually uses this cunning in day to day life to play some pranks or games with friends or interested parties. She is not afraid to use the Force when playing games to increase her chances of winning. Her favorite games are Chatta-ragul and Dejarik, with her preferring the latter. Despite not being a mechanic, she has developed enough talent to maintain and modify her own ship. She could do some basic repairs and maintenance on other models of ship, but she is only particularly familiar with XS freighters and the modifications she made to her own. She does have a technical aptitude for crafting items and can function as an armorer and weaponsmith as well as being able to craft and modify blasters. She is multilingual, being fluent in Basic, Huttese, and Farghul. She, while not completely fluent in it, is able to understand droidspeak enough to communicate with her astromech droid. Both droids are precious to her and maintained meticulously. She intentionally will not memory wipe them and allowed them to develop their own personalities, finding it comforting to have almost biological company. She learned Farghul during her Disciple training as a way to reclaim at least a little bit of her ethnic heritage. Physical description: Straka stands at an impressively short, for a Farghul, 5'1". Her short height is made up for with her enhanced strength and speed, courtesy of her species and her felinoid status giving her leaner muscle for the same strength. Her seemingly curvy and soft exterior is quickly shattered for anyone touching her. Each movement felt betrays her densely packed muscles. Her fur is of an uncommonly dark variant and is kept well groomed. For some reason, much to her own comfort and the delight of others, she never lost the softness of her kitten fur, essentially staying adorably soft and warm to the touch. Her hair shares this softness, though it is much thicker than her body fur. Her golden eyes are obviously feline in nature and even have the tapem lucidum, granting her strong night vision and the trademark glowing eyes at night shared by many mammals. Her claws are kept clean and sharp, always ready to bite into a foe that manages to catch her unarmored. This overall grants her an attractive and seemingly inoffensive look with only her claws and sharp canines granting any hint of her predatory ability. Ship (Optional): Modified XS Freighter called Kitten's Ire Modifications: 1. Addition of 1 Astromech Droid and 1 Servant Droid after crash. It had 4 astromechs and 2 servant droids already. (They are models that have inherent limitations and thus cannot develop personalities) 2. 6 sets of passenger sleeping rooms, able to house two passengers per room. (12 total passengers) 3. Conversion of excess space into fuel storage and power production (reducing it to 50 tons of cargo space from its original 300) 4. Hyperdrives upgraded to Class 1 5. Part of the inside is converted to a captain living quarters, another part has a crafting area, and there is a small medbay. A full sized galley sits by the captain quarters.The central area of the ship is a large living area. 6. Hull has been updated with lighter, stronger materials, allowing for the same strength with reduced weight and bulk on the inside. (20% reduced internal bulk for the same RU) 7. Deflector shields have been modernized and rebuilt for both ray and particle shields. 8. Addition of two ion cannons, one on the bottom of each wing tip. 9. Addition of additional "wing" to produce symmetry and allow one more laser cannon hardpoint. 10. Replacement of laser cannons with stronger, 1000 terrawatt versions and making all three turreted.</s> <\|message\|>Eira "My name is Dremmick, and this is Eira. We appreciate the hospitality, Krayt. If you don't mind, I'd like to make a military landing, see what we can do about joining. I have a bone to pick with the Zann Consortium, but progress is slow on my own, want to hit them harder. The Nexu isn't the hardest hitting vessel, but you won't find many that can outrun her. If you could use a ship like that and two extra members, I'd gladly like to offer my capabilities to the Republic," Dremmick finished, hoping his answer was satisfactory. Eira on the other hand was a bit offended at the man's critique of her piloting. "I wouldn't have run us into anyone, he's just surprised his radar couldn't pick us up till I turned off the sonar dampeners," she mumbled. "Not now Eira, you can show off the ship after we land. I'm starting to feel cramped in here," Dremmick said, waving a hand and trying to get her not to interrupt.</s> <\|message\|>Lahana Sunset Yavin IV Kale and Lahana had landed on the moon minutes ago, choosing to come back to the temple for a number of reasons. Before searching for Aren in earnest, Kale needed to have maintenance done on his ship. The last thing they needed in an emergency was engine failure. While Kale spoke to a mechanic Lahana walked through the temple. She stopped by a training room and saw the droid she'd broken had been fixed. Her hands clenched, and her breathing quickened. It reminded her of Alara, and Alara reminded her of... She let out a sharp breath and walked off. The other reason they were here was because of something her Master had felt. A disturbance in the force, and an ominous presence that called for his attention. She hadn't felt a thing, like always. Some Jedi she was. So here they were, ready to defend the temple if need be, or go off moon to battle whatever force they needed to. She stopped to sit on a bench overlooking a fountain, hoping the shaking in her hands would cease soon. Kale meanwhile called Luke's com-link. "Do you mind if the two of us talk, alone?"</s>	<\|message\|>Tasaia Straka With Mara coming so close and basically hanging off the Farghul, Tasaia responded surprisingly well. She bumped her hip lightly to Jade's and rested her clawed gauntlet on the opposite hip as they walked. "Mmmm, yes, well let's not empty the Order's coffers or clothing inventory. We could find a few political fatcats to get some...donations to our cause if that's how you want to play it." She let out a surprisingly girly giggle, throwing a few nearby people for a loop given her imposing armor and stance. As the three others began to discuss some more important matters, Mara could feel Tasaia's fingers press into her hip some as the woman thought deeply about the situation. Once they spoke of it all and their concerns, the Farghul felt she had the floor enough to speak. "Yes, well, some grounding in traditions will help us gain a foothold to become better than our predecessors. However, the more pressing concern is that presence in the Force. Regardless of these larger forces at work, we need to figure out our local issue before it consumes us. One cannot deal with outside interference before internal issues are resolved, after all. The surge was not natural. It sent some of the local animals into a frenzy and made others spooked to the point of hiding for days, even the predators. There have been a few more minor pulses over the years I have been here, but the one last week strikes me as the harbinger of more powerful aftershocks." Tasaia took a pause to sigh heavily and close her eyes, feeling the Force again. The presence was growing ever more oppressive. She opened her eyes, a grim expression on her face. "We should be wary and ready for a fight on our hands. This arrogance is destructive, pride driven beyond human limits. I want at least some focus upon this before we begin training in earnest. Young Force users training in an atmosphere such as this are far more likely to accidentally delve into powers that corrupt, whether they intend to or not. I would rather not risk our fledgling group for the sake of showing off to the bureaucrats that we can begin training right now."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Treville felt his body relax, just a little at the fact she had not insulted him so much he would wish to cut her down where she stood. As much as he was an experienced veteran spending most of his time in war, he had heard the fearsome stories of this King and he would not be surprised should the treaty not be signed. After all the Eorzians were under the impression the marriage would not go through, a part of him believed as such so he would ensure he was ready to whisk her out of danger. It was hard not to feel some sort of curiosity toward him, her husband to be. A part of her had expected him to retaliate to her disrespect, her father would have but she had spent many a year fighting against him receiving ample punishment for her actions. Look at you now, sold away like a piece of meat. Just because I'm a lady, had I been a son I could have fought. The fights with her father had gotten her nowhere, it only fuelled her anger, fuelled her hatred towards men with power thinking that they owned her like she was property. Watching as he responded to her, saying there was no need to apologise the anger started to simmer down and she started to uncurl her fist. He had been respectful, better than what she had been, and she felt a pang of guilt for being so disinterested. Was I too guarded? No. Perhaps I am simply playing into his plan. "Thank you, your highness, for coming all this way to escort me and ensure I reach your Kingdom safely. It is greatly appreciated." It did not surprise her when he spoke of his lands being perilous, it had been quite difficult for the Eorzians to survive such a land whilst in war with them. Nodding to him as she watched him turn, she turned her own back looking at her men who had began to move into place to continue on the ride. Treville had started ordering men back into position and he stood at the carriage door to open it and help the Princess inside. Elise was about to return to her carriage, feeling the relief that she had somehow managed to smooth over her mistake but hearing his next words made her heart drop. "I…" Stumbling over her words for a moment she felt the hesitation, not ready for the option of him riding with her in her carriage. She couldn't outright decline the request, that would be disrespectful, and she could not push her luck. Not yet. Turning to look at him once more she glanced at Treville who gave her the look of don't even try it and she conceded. Offering a smile to Ozraged she gave a nod; the smile did not reach her eyes, but she doubted he cared. This is all for appearances after all. "What a… wonderful idea." Regaining her composure as she considered his words, tedious journey. Alleviate boredom. Either he was hinting towards the fact that he felt this was tedious or again she was no doubt overreacting. Taking Trevilles hand as he helped her into the carriage, she sat herself down feeling a bit concerned on what they would even talk about, get to know each other? Was it really necessary? Although maybe I could find a weakness, use it to barter for my freedom. Fidgeting in her seat she closed her eyes composing herself, calm yourself down. Don't get yourself into trouble. Maybe you can use this time to figure out a way of the marriage, but still keep peace? She began giving herself a pep talk, reminding herself that she should not show any sort of weakness to him. Turning to address the King she opened her mouth before frowning, she didn't really know what to ask. In fact, she felt quite awkward, her fingers began to tap against the blue fabric of her dress before she finally spoke up "What's your Kingdom like?" It was a good start for her, it might even be beneficial to gather an understanding of his Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth That had thrown her off balance, Ozragad thought to himself with a sense of small satisfaction as he dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to one of his guards. He had seen her hesitation then, the glance for reassurance to her guards. She had regained her composure soon enough, but when they were alone, would she act so brave before him? "Go ahead, I will have no further need of your services." He dismissed his herald and the two guards with a wave of his gauntlet covered hand, took one final look over the edge of the bridge into the rushing depths below, and casually walked over to the opened carriage door. As he climbed inside he fixed his eyes of molten gold on the older guard with the scarred face, the one the Princess had glanced to so conspicuously before. Try anything, and I will open her throat before she can scream. He did not want the game he was playing interrupted by an ill advised assassination attempt. As he took his seat opposite the Princess the door swung shut behind them, the driver lashed the reins, the carriage began to roll forward over the chasm. To sit comfortably Ozragad had to unbuckle his sword belt, he did so slowly, deliberately. When he had removed it he lay it carelessly his lap in full view of Elise. His hand sat resting near the top of the scabbard, his fingers drumming against the leather coated wood, the hilt easily within his grasp. Waiting. Her hands were busy also, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. She is nervous now we are alone. Perhaps he should be the one to speak first. Perhaps it would be better to let her sweat and suffer his silence. She turned towards him, frowned in thought or concentration. She is considering her words carefully, she thinks before she acts. Finally her lips parted and she asked him a question. What was his Kingdom like? A neutral question, not quite a banality, but not searching for personal secrets or intimate knowledge. A useful question for a foreigner like herself, but perhaps a thorny one for him. He turned away from her and looked out of the carriage window, considering his own response. They had past the towers that held the Morganyth side of the bridge and were travelling up a rocky windswept valley to mountain pass that would eventually take them to his capital. Scree slopes of shale tumbled down from the peaks to either side, clumps of hardy twisted birch trees grew in the shelter of the larger boulders, budding for the arrival of spring. The base of valley was taken up by stream that trickled down to meet the Kazadun and open areas of brown grassland and bracken. On a hillside, a lone figure stood by a flock of small dark fleeced sheep, they watched the procession below with interest. When he finally spoke his voice was deep, sonorous. "Much of it is as you see before you, mountain and moorland. On the southern coasts it turns to salt marsh and if you go too far north the mountains grow higher and are crowned with ice. Beyond Cirith Anyr are the Ashlands and mountains of fire, they are... difficult... to comprehend if you have not seen them with your own eyes. As for my city... you will see it soon enough." Ozragad's lip curled with a faint smile at that. There wasn't much beauty in the harshness of his land, but he was proud of what the Formori had built at Cirith Anyr, in spite of the bitter memories he associated with it. The he felt the flicker of his rage when his mind retraced those old wounds from his past, carelessly resurrected by an idle thought and a woman's presence. How different his life might have been if Morganyth had been green, if they had just a sliver of what the Eorzian's squandered. Is she mocking me? Making me spell out the meanness of my Kingdom to make light of our inferiority. His face set into stone. "I understand from my time in Eorzia that it does not compare favourably." He looked at her directly then, would she agree him with, or try to play false modesty? He decided to press her further, provoke her. "The countryside around the capital is especially pleasant I recall, but you must have grown up in the palace correct? How does it look now? I haven't lain eyes on the interior since it burned. Did they remodel? I always found the frescoes in the royal bedchamber too gaudy for my preference."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Hearing the door shut behind him was deafening to her, it felt like she was locked in. Trapped with her fate and she couldn't help but watch him. Elise could feel her heart hammering away, being stuck in this carriage with him was not exactly what she had in mind. Feeling rather uneasy as she watched him unbuckle his belt it sent quite a few dark thoughts running through her mind. Stop it, stop overreacting, he wouldn't dare do anything unless you give reason too. Fingers played with the hem of her dress, finding comfort in fiddling with the expensive fabric. Turning to the window when he had taken a look outside, she waited for his response to her earlier question, it felt strange to be going so far into a foreign land. The land itself was extremely different to her own and what she had grown up around, but she had barely left the palace. Elise had been quite the sheltered Princess, but that was because her father feared letting her out of the confines of the palace worried she'd get kidnapped or assassinated. Listening to his description of his land she continued to look out the window letting the scenery accompany his words, building a better for her about his Kingdom. I guess it has its own beauty, the mountain of fire however sounds interesting. I can't picture such a thing. Looking over at him she caught glimpse of a faint smile, he was proud of his land and even though it differed to her own he should be proud of such a thing. She would have been proud too if she was in his own shoes and she accomplished as such. "It's quite admirable what your people have down with the land, considering." There was no hint of her words being malicious, it was a genuine compliment. One that she felt would be the only compliment she would make whilst here, but she could not deny that his people had done well considering how dead the land itself looked to her. Leaning back in the carriage she watched him once more, his next words irking her, provoking her and she almost retaliated without thinking first. Almost. "I suppose I could be modest about my own land however Eorzia is very much blessed in every way." There was no need to be fake with him, he knew she didn't like him so why pander to him? Why should I play fake modesty to stroke your ego? "Our countryside is exquisite; we are blessed with plenty of crops each year that our people harvest. Lands of various greens, flowers consistently in bloom and the fresh air has done wonders. It's hard to imagine our Kingdom was at war with how peaceful the countryside could be. Perhaps you'll enjoy a visit seeing as my dowry comes with land." She wasn't stupid, although her father had not told her what the price for her had been, she had found out herself, sneaking a look at the letters that had been exchanged regarding her fate. The Kings next words however did hit a nerve with her, the fire returned in her blue eyes and the fabric she had once been fiddling with was now scrunched up beneath her fingers as her hand curled into a fist. "I can't comment on it's past interiors, maybe you did it a favour by burning it? Maybe not. However, the palace is like a work of art, although I highly doubt your taste levels agree with ours." Looking him up and down as she clearly questioned his own taste with her words, her own pride getting in the way of what might have been a more sensible response to him.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Crossed his mind? Spies? Being thrown into a cell? It was hard to read him, but it was safe for her to assume he could have expected all options. Being a King, you must expect the unexpected, you can't underestimate anyone, or it could be your demise. It was a depressing and no doubt exhausting consistently thinking on such things, but it couldn't be helped. Underestimating someone had been the downfall of him, Athos the deceased younger brother of the Hydealyn line. It pained her father to this day to talk of him, so he was barely mentioned anymore. It was as if he never existed. Athos had been killed because he had not been cautious of someone that had gotten awfully close to him, they had wormed their way into his heart and stabbed him in the night killing him. It had been quite the blow to Eorzia. "Thank you, that is very kind of you to do so." Offering a polite smile when he had stated he would find people to attend to her, she expected he would. It's probably a win for you, watching my every move. I would have done the same in your position. Pondering her thoughts on what kind of reception she would receive from his people, there had to be some hatred. She was a foreign Princess and she knew that envoys of opposing countries received quite the amount of scorn when in another country. Considering his words as he mentioned he would have his own guards escort her she had opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she thought more on the words. Her own guards could cause quite the stir, if they were about in the foreign city their safety couldn't be guaranteed which could be a reason as to why he had said his own guards to escort her. "I would like to visit the upper city, when you deem it acceptable of course. I am curious to your land, your Kingdom. It's incredibly different to what I have grown up with and it would only be respectful to your people if I learn about your customs and lands." Plus, I hate being confined anywhere. Leaning on her hand as he continued the rules, outlining where she could go, she nodded. It was pretty standard, his own palace had areas she was not allowed much like hers back home. "Understandable, I will do my best to abide by that." Stifling a yawn behind her hand she didn't want to come across rude, he wasn't boring her she was just tired from the journey. Sighing inwardly, she knew the day was not even close to being over and it would be hard to rest in new surroundings, well it was hard not to worry someone would come by and kill her in the night. "How many people are in attendance to this ceremony? You mentioned it was going to be small so I can assume it won't be a long affair?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad watched as the Princess covered her yawning mouth with one slender white hand. Was he boring her? No, it had been a long journey for her, at least three days already. They may not have even stopped properly the night before last when they entered the marches. She must be tired. He would give her a chance to rest before they arrived at Cirith Anyr. It would probably be the best for both of them frankly, he already had plenty to consider from their conversation thus far. "My regent must return my seal of office when we arrive. The wider court will be in attendance but you will not have to speak with them, that can wait until tomorrow." He looked out of the carriage window once more, they had crested the mountain pass he saw, the road ahead of them led back down into a wider but more desolate valley than the last. The trees were fewer, the grass patchier. Though the mountain tops were still mostly composed of rock, the soil seemed sandier and had a distinctly greyish tinge. Now was as good a time as any to take his leave. Ozragad thumped twice on the roof of the carriage, signalling for the driver to stop. "I can see you are tired. It would be wise to rest to now, you shall still have a few hours before we arrive at Cirith Anyr. I will take my leave, Your Highness." When the carriage came to a halt he pushed open the door and stepped out. Further down the road his men had noticed the delay and were turning to face the Eorzian entourage. He gestured to them to bring his horse up for him as he re-buckled his sword belt around his armoured waist. I think that went surprisingly well, considering the fact we both openly provoked and insulted each other on our first meeting. When they brought his horse back around he remounted swiftly, glancing back over his shoulder once to see if he could catch the eye of the Princess with his own smouldering gaze before he rode off. So long as they both understood she was just a tool to used, his schemes would ultimately be realised, he was sure of that. Ozragad felt he had gotten the better of her in that encounter, his power over her would only grow once she was in the palace surrounded by his own people. They rode onward. Ozragad took the point of a wedge of his soldiers in front of the carriage and the Eorzian guards as they made their way back down from the mountain pass. The wind that blew in down the valley and rippled through his long unbound hair smelled faintly of brimstone. In the distance he could see a pall of smoke hanging above the horizon. One of the fire mountains must be erupting, there would be a heavy ashfall tonight. They should hurry, darkness would come earlier with the ash. He spurred his horse forward. For sometime they travelled onward through the barren landscape, the brooding clouds drawing nearer and nearer. At the end of the valley they came to river, smaller and gentler than the Kazadun, the road split in two there. One branch continued out across a low arched bridge and off into a seemingly endless grey plain beyond - the Ashlands. The other branch swung north, along the meandering course of the river, tracking it to its source. That was the path they chose. Not long now... The night was closing in fast, but before them he could see the great mountain beneath which the hidden city of Cirith Anyr was concealed. As they approached the gates, Ozragad felt something softly fall upon his forehead. It felt like a snowflake, but with none of the cold. He raised a hand to wipe it away, the fingers came back smudged. Ash. He stared up into the sky and watched as the ashfall began, the flakes dancing down from the leaden sky above. The river split before them, the larger part came boiling out of a low cave beneath a high rocky cliff. The other half was a narrow stream that tumbled down from the mountains and ran along the bottom of the cliff face to join the flow they had followed up from the crossroads. This narrow stream was bridged also, but it did not lead to another valley or vista beyond - it lead directly into the cliff side. A great gateway had been carved there, rudimentary battlements and towers protruded from the rock face, and two long red banners fluttered to either side of the open gates. These were gates to Cirith Anyr. He was home. ---</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Would that be rude? Not to speak to them. It's probably a safer option, I barely managed to smooth over insulting the King. It was a relief to know that she did not have to address them, not tonight. The journey had been long, and she had never been on the road for so long before, there were parts of her body she never knew could hurt. There had been times when the carriage felt so confining, no air as well as the feeling of being claustrophobic something she had not experienced before being on the road. Was it that obvious? Meeting his gaze as he spoke of her being tired, thankfully he was using that as an opportunity to leave the carriage and she could be on her own once more. She felt a rush of relief because she could take the time to get some rest whilst feeling safe surrounded by her guards, it wouldn't be the same when she was in his palace. His home. Watching as he left the carriage, she felt a huge amount of pressure leave, sighing outwardly as she slumped down in the carriage not realising just how much effort that had taken. Safely back on her own in the carriage she looked out of the window only to catch his gaze before riding off, she felt the anger once more. Her gut instinct telling her that she might just have lost her first battle against him, but she had to remind herself that was okay. Perhaps he will underestimate me. Scoffing she threw herself back onto the chair folding her arms as she refused to watch him lead the charge, various emotions coursing through her as she closed her eyes grumbling about him being a fool. "Stupid, arrogant… maybe I'll just run from the palace. Watch that peace crumble. Get myself killed, then there would be no worry" Grumbling to herself as she felt the cool wooden wall of the carriage as she leaned against the fine wood. It was hard to settled as she could feel every ache in her body, the stiffness of her shoulders but exhaustion had won. Amidst her grumbles her body started to relax, once folded arms began to fall to her side. The slow rise and fall of her chest as she finally got some rest, dreams of the future plaguing her sleep. "Gah!" Opening her eyes with a start as Elise frowned glancing around the carriage looking for the cause to her waking. There had been a bump in the road, and it had woken her with a start but for a moment she had panicked. Tutting to herself as she rubbed her neck scolding herself for being stupid, she glanced out the window looking at the brooding clouds that were looming above them. How long was I asleep for? Rubbing her eyes pale fingertips brushed against her cheeks noting they were quite warm, shaking her head she looked back out of the window taking in the new scenery to distract herself. "That's not snow." Whispering to herself as she saw white flakes fall from the sky, a part of her had thought for a moment it could have been, but she remembered how this land was near volcanic activity. She was certain of it. Blue eyes caught sight of the gates; eyes widened at how they looked. It was magnificent in its own regard, but yet it terrified her. No… I should not be here. I should have run when I had the chance. Her stomach churned as she couldn't look away from the gates, the red banners fluttering away in the wind and she felt she had arrived at her doom. Feeling the carriage come to a halt her hand went to her mouth, for a split second she had felt like she was going to throw up, but she kept composure. Feeling her stomach still churn away she took a moment in the carriage before she would emerge, she heard the door open no doubt Treville was waiting to help her out, but she just couldn't. Not yet. "Your highness." Smoothing out her curls as she heard the hiss of Treville urging her to leave and she sighed, there was no going back. Her stomach had not settled fully but she could work with it, ensuring that she stood tall and proud, fully composed she left the carriage taking Trevilles hand as he helped her out. It felt so strange taking her first steps on foreign land, something she had never imagined herself doing. Looking up at Ozragad she bowed her head politely knowing that whilst in his land she did have to be respectful. Elise however did not speak for fear of her stomach betraying her, even though the Princess was quite fair her complexion was paler than usual.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Would that be rude? Not to speak to them. It's probably a safer option, I barely managed to smooth over insulting the King. It was a relief to know that she did not have to address them, not tonight. The journey had been long, and she had never been on the road for so long before, there were parts of her body she never knew could hurt. There had been times when the carriage felt so confining, no air as well as the feeling of being claustrophobic something she had not experienced before being on the road. Was it that obvious? Meeting his gaze as he spoke of her being tired, thankfully he was using that as an opportunity to leave the carriage and she could be on her own once more. She felt a rush of relief because she could take the time to get some rest whilst feeling safe surrounded by her guards, it wouldn't be the same when she was in his palace. His home. Watching as he left the carriage, she felt a huge amount of pressure leave, sighing outwardly as she slumped down in the carriage not realising just how much effort that had taken. Safely back on her own in the carriage she looked out of the window only to catch his gaze before riding off, she felt the anger once more. Her gut instinct telling her that she might just have lost her first battle against him, but she had to remind herself that was okay. Perhaps he will underestimate me. Scoffing she threw herself back onto the chair folding her arms as she refused to watch him lead the charge, various emotions coursing through her as she closed her eyes grumbling about him being a fool. "Stupid, arrogant… maybe I'll just run from the palace. Watch that peace crumble. Get myself killed, then there would be no worry" Grumbling to herself as she felt the cool wooden wall of the carriage as she leaned against the fine wood. It was hard to settled as she could feel every ache in her body, the stiffness of her shoulders but exhaustion had won. Amidst her grumbles her body started to relax, once folded arms began to fall to her side. The slow rise and fall of her chest as she finally got some rest, dreams of the future plaguing her sleep. "Gah!" Opening her eyes with a start as Elise frowned glancing around the carriage looking for the cause to her waking. There had been a bump in the road, and it had woken her with a start but for a moment she had panicked. Tutting to herself as she rubbed her neck scolding herself for being stupid, she glanced out the window looking at the brooding clouds that were looming above them. How long was I asleep for? Rubbing her eyes pale fingertips brushed against her cheeks noting they were quite warm, shaking her head she looked back out of the window taking in the new scenery to distract herself. "That's not snow." Whispering to herself as she saw white flakes fall from the sky, a part of her had thought for a moment it could have been, but she remembered how this land was near volcanic activity. She was certain of it. Blue eyes caught sight of the gates; eyes widened at how they looked. It was magnificent in its own regard, but yet it terrified her. No… I should not be here. I should have run when I had the chance. Her stomach churned as she couldn't look away from the gates, the red banners fluttering away in the wind and she felt she had arrived at her doom. Feeling the carriage come to a halt her hand went to her mouth, for a split second she had felt like she was going to throw up, but she kept composure. Feeling her stomach still churn away she took a moment in the carriage before she would emerge, she heard the door open no doubt Treville was waiting to help her out, but she just couldn't. Not yet. "Your highness." Smoothing out her curls as she heard the hiss of Treville urging her to leave and she sighed, there was no going back. Her stomach had not settled fully but she could work with it, ensuring that she stood tall and proud, fully composed she left the carriage taking Trevilles hand as he helped her out. It felt so strange taking her first steps on foreign land, something she had never imagined herself doing. Looking up at Ozragad she bowed her head politely knowing that whilst in his land she did have to be respectful. Elise however did not speak for fear of her stomach betraying her, even though the Princess was quite fair her complexion was paler than usual.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- Morganyth - Cirith Anyr --- --- They emerged from the long darkness of the tunnel and into the perpetual twilight of the great cavern of Cirith Anyr, last of the cities built by the the Formori before the arrival of humans. The enormous cave, large enough to house a whole city, had been carved out over the course of thousands if not millions of years by the river that trickled through its base - the Anyrun. A stone bridge stretched over its course to link the side they stood on to the city that rose towering above across the water. The whole city was built into the far wall of the cavern, a great steep sided natural ziggurat of rock face that had been carved into level upon level of stepped terraces. Bound by three dividing walls, the city was separated out into lower and upper districts, with the palace sitting atop the whole edifice. Outside of the lowest of these walls the floor of the cavern was planned and managed as well. The river was crossed with dams and weirs, turning it into a series of deep ponds and pools. There were even fields of a sort by its bank, cultivating fungi and tubers, which needed little light to thrive. The architecture of the city was varied. The houses and squat towers of the lower city were plain and utilitarian, reminiscent of the construction of the fortifications which had guarded the entrance to this secret haven. This section of the city was the newest, hurriedly thrown up the days of his great grandfather to accommodate the rush of refugees that come here to seek shelter from the threat of humanity. Those refugees had gone on to become the everyday citizens of Cirith Anyr, those who made up his armies and operated the workshops and factories that the Morganyth war effort relied up. High above the lower city the great walls of the upper city loomed, draped in Ozragad's red banners. These had once been the original walls of the city, the buildings they hid were finer and more delicate than those below. Fluted towers, great domed halls, and arched colonnades stretched along the edges of the terraces. This was the old city of the Formori, the last of their ancient stronghold that they still clung to. It spoke of a very different culture than the one which had built the cyclopean defences at the mouth of this cave. A culture that had once loved beauty for its own sake and had indulged in whimsical flights of fancy. And crowning it all, glowing with ethereal white-blue light, was Ozragad's palace. Its elegant ivory spires almost seemed to hover like a mirage in the gloom of the cavern, disconnected from dark grey stone of the natural rock. It was an illusion of course, the palace had merely been built of white marble, enhanced with the magic of the glowing moon crystal that was set into its facade. It was not as large as the palace in Eorzia, Ozragad knew that, but he had always thought the craftsmanship that went into it was of a far higher standard. The Formori had spent hundreds of years carving every surface with ornament and detail, transforming bare stone into scenes so real they almost had a life of their own. He had seen reliefs of stone forests that swayed with the breeze, stone fish that leapt and swam in their stone waters. It was beautiful. He envied the Princess for a moment then, see this for the first time, untainted by the past. They brought their horse to a stop whilst still on the far side of the Anyrun. Horses could deal with the narrow, twisting, and often stepped streets of Cirith Anyr well enough, but the Princess's carriage would not be able to do the same. One of her guards had dismounted and opened the door of the carriage. She took his hand and emerged, bowing her head to Ozragad when she did. Good, she knows how to play at being dutiful at least. "Princess Elise Hydaelyn of Eorzia, this is my capital. This is Cirith Anyr."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Casting her eyes over the capital Cirith of Anyr it was kind of mesmerising, she had never seen such a thing before. Although it was dark compared to Eorzia it held such a beauty of its own, even though there was barely any greenery she could see the fields by the riverbank harbouring what she could only assume was fungi thriving in the darker setting. Comparing it to her own city the architecture was vastly different, it seemed basic in places, but it was almost like a secret city nestled within this cave giving it quite the mysterious aura to her. It was quite a lot to take in, the secret city within the cave. The somewhat darker feel of the city, but it radiated power and history. The curious side of her wanted to know more, she wanted to explore the city as she was certain she would never see anything like this again. It was hard not to admire it's beauty, although Eorzia was different with more aesthetically pleasing gardens, greenery and sun this city had it's own beauty. Looking up at the glowing castle it was hard to miss, it was the shinning beacon of the city and the white-blue light gave it such a royal feel. That was clearly the palace, the ivory spires and elegance that oozed from it she couldn't picture any other place being his home. A part of her envied how the palace seemed to glow, as much her own home was elegant and stunning it didn't have that glow to it. It was simply amazing, but her thoughts turned bitter at admiring the city. I highly doubt I'll be leaving this place, not alive anyway. That thought alone sent shivers up her spine as she felt she was entering her demise here. Lost in her thoughts her eyes were darting around the place, taking in everything she could see. It took a couple of minutes before she had realised Ozragad had addressed her. Snapping out of her thoughts she looked at Treville who had cleared his throat to grab her attention so she didn't completely embarrass herself or insult anyone. Elise felt herself inwardly cringe at the realisation she had ignored the King, composing herself she turned to face him offering a small smile which did not reach her eyes. Thankfully that sickness feeling has passed so she wasn't too fearful to talk. "My apologies, Cirith Anyr is breathing in its own way. I've never seen something like this before, it's… quite a lot to take in." Taking a look back at her carriage she could see her men preparing it to be stored somewhere, it didn't look like it could go any further into the city so no doubt they were placing it somewhere for safe keeping for when needed in the future. If it would be needed. A part of her still focused on the negative, the idea that she would never leave this place and how she was now trapped. "Your palace, it glows. I'm assuming the marble plays a part in that?" The only material she had ever seen so white was marble and their own palace had room crafted with such material, but it didn't glow. Not like his palace. Moving forward slightly she saw Treville move slightly behind ready to protect her from any sort of attack, it was a possibility that could happen she didn't completely trust his intentions.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn At least I am not the only one who feels awkward in this encounter. Looking back at the food in front of her she tried to focus on anything else but the King who was sat right next to her, it was hard not to feel somewhat awkward around him. It was easy enough to shoot men down and their feeble attempts at courting, but this was a completely different matter as her father had sold her off already. For some stupid land, although by the looks of it his people could do with the greenery. I highly doubt much can grow here. Focusing on her thoughts she had barely caught the fact he had replied to her about being happy with her quarters. Reaching out for a piece of bread she hesitated slightly looking over at him as he blew on the hot soup before eating. The words he had spoken told a different story, a part of her was curious as she wondered on if she had offended him in some way or perhaps something was wrong. Well he would hardly speak about it to me. Glancing back at the roll she let her hand drop from reaching out and instead went for more wine over the food, she could smell the soup in front of her and she knew she should eat regardless of her appetite waning at his venomous words. Are you trying to scare me? Or is this something to coddle your own ego? Watching as he had turned from her and began to speak with Manawyndan exchanging quite brutal war stories, no doubt in her mind about it being her people he had slaughtered as he seemed to focus on the bloodiest of battles. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes she looked away not entertaining the idea anymore, she would simply focus on eating her food. Perhaps the main course, I've gone off the idea of soup. Under the table her hand touched her stomach as if the warm touch of her hand would quell the nausea but all she was met with was the soft fabric of her dress. Drawn from her thoughts she looked over at one of the Formori who had addressed her, offering a smile as she looked over the woman, she couldn't help but think how beautiful she was. The striking colour of her hair and jewellery that matched her eyes, it was hard not to appreciate how well the colours of her dress to the accessories and hair that all tied in together beautifully. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Cheldarine." Following her gesture as she introduced her eldest son to the youngest. "Thank you." Eyes glanced over at the adolescent who had refilled her glass of wine before turning back to Lady Cheldarine, excited at the idea of talking to someone else. Laughing softly alongside Cheldarine as she hinted towards her son taking his duty and not wanting a mother to distract him, "He will miss it one day, no matter how old nothing can break a bond of a mother and their child." Smiling as she glanced back over at the royal cup bearer before returning her attention to Cheldarine, "Oh don't apologise for boasting about your children, I expect nothing less from a proud mother." It brought fond memories of her own, Elise had been very close to her mother until an illness had claimed her life but that did not mean she stopped loving her. Feeling her own smile falter slightly as she continued on about being far from home and surrounded by strangers, it was difficult, and she wanted nothing more than to speak with her brother or feel the safety of being within her own palace walls but she couldn't. "I'm adjusting, it's… different getting used to change but so far everyone has been quite welcoming." If you don't count the people that wished my death on the way, then I guess everyone has been somewhat welcoming. Even the King in his own way, well least he did not throw me in a cell and keep me as a prisoner like my father had thought would happen… well hoped so that he had a reason to return to war. Trying to push back her troubling thoughts she took another sip of her wine before placing it down noting she should pace herself; the smell of fish caught her attention as the main course was set down in front of her. Reaching for the cutlery she caught sight of her pale hands making a mental note to try and sleep this evening as she knew she would only come off worse if she didn't. Tucking into the main course she was a little slow to eat due to the worry her stomach would reject it, however she was pleasantly surprised with the taste and how the food seemingly warmed her up easing one of her many worries until a dark thought crossed her mind. Perhaps I will get poisoned, a nice easy way to be killed I guess unless it's not a fast acting poison and causes agony.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Mhmm, well Your Highness, I am glad that you have felt welcomed in our country thus far." Lady Cheldarine's amber eyes glanced over to meet the Princess's for a moment. Despite the inconsequential nature of her words, there was a seriousness to them. Her gaze broke away as a fillet of flaky white fish drizzled in a buttery sauce was set down in front of her. Bowls of steamed tubers and root vegetables accompanied it, along with a series of savoury pastries stuffed with spiced meats. She thanked the servers as they laid them out, waiting for them to leave before continuing. "It is good that you are adjusting, I personally believe change to be a good thing. Though I hope you will soon have us making changes of our own, some are long overdue. This war..." She stopped herself, even though she had spoken softly so as not to be overheard. She glanced at the King, but he did not seem to overhear, still swilling wine and talking battle with Manawyndan, his plate barely touched. "Let me say that I am very glad you are here. Very glad indeed." Lady Cheldarine picked at her food daintily with her fork. She had not broken her composure despite the gravity of her words, and anyone looking from the outside would only read polite sympathy on her face. She ate in silence for a moment, turning away to exchange a word with her elder son who sat next to her. At the far end of the high table, a peel of laughter broke out from the plump curly haired man on the far right. The man seemed to be sparring words with the elderly woman sat on the other side of Manawyndan. The severe looking councillor seemed unimpressed, whilst his young wife expressed amused disbelief at their actions. In the hall at large, spirits were running high, four guards were restraining a pair of men who had exchanged blows at the bottom of one of the tables that ran length ways in the hall. One of the two combatants was dressed in the long robes and scarves of an Ashlander. The soldiers pinned the arms of the unruly guests behind their backs and marched them out of the hall. The fight did not seem to greatly disturb the merriment of others. Ozragad broke away from his conversation with Manawyndan to listen to a whisper into his ear from the female guard captain with the shaved head who had been roving around the hall since the start of the feast. He paused, nodded at whatever she had suggested, and she too marched out of the hall in the wake of the minor brawl. As she passed behind Elise the Formori soldier shot the Princess a venomous look and turned up her nose. The King faced back to his right, and the Lady Cheldarine turned back to Princess Elise once more, an easy smile on her face. "I hope we can become better acquainted in the weeks to come Your Highness, after all, we are to become kin soon enough if all goes as planned. Or did you not know that?" She frowned momentarily again. "I am not sure exactly what is known in Eorzia about our country. The length of the war, the difference in our lifespans, it makes things difficult to comprehend sometimes. I am cousin to King Ozragad, on his father's side, I have known him since I was a girl."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Glancing back at the food that was sat in front of her she had taken a few bites before her stomach started to churn uncomfortably, to her it signalled quit while you're ahead as she knew it wouldn't end well if she kept eating. The food looked magnificent and Elise hoped no one would take offence that she wasn't eating too much. The fish looked stunning with the buttery sauces and it tasted it too as she had a few bites of it but as much as the fish smelled and looked amazing, she knew her limits so placed the cutlery gently to one side on the plate. "Hmm…" Looking up slightly she offered a smile at the idea she had been welcomed in, some people had been nice at least and it looked as if Lady Cheldarine was one of those she would consider nice. Not one of the ones wishing for her death at least. Grabbing the wine once more she sipped at the drink letting the cool liquid calm her as she settled into the chair that was beside the King. Eyes trailed over to Ozragad as he continued to talk with the others a part of her wondered just what was going through his mind over all of this, her fingers tapped against the goblet whilst she considered his thoughts for a moment before returning to the conversation with Lady Cheldarine. "Change can be good." Nodding in agreement as she focused her gaze back to Lady Cheldarine looking away from Ozaragad, though she felt herself frown slightly at the next words. Changes of our own? I wonder what kind of changes she expects I'll be able to make. I doubt the King is easily swayed. This time she glanced at the King once more, watching him for a moment before she shook her head out of her daze. "I am glad, you are the first to express such opinion." It felt uplifting that someone was glad of her arrival, even if Elise herself did not feel it, it was nice to know that another expressed such a view. I wish I could say the same. Although people seemed merry, happy and enjoying the feast she caught sight of the men who had exchanged blows. Now being arrested for whatever fuss they had caused, unable to stop herself from looking she caught sight of the one dressed in long robes and adorned in scarves. A part of her wondered if the fight was just because they were drunk, or if it was something to do with the upcoming peace that had been proposed. Something I doubt I will ever find out. Looking back over the hall of people Elise felt so out of place, she could dress like one of them for sure, but she knew deep down she would never be accepted by them not when so much blood had been shed over the war. Sighing softly to herself looked over at one of the female guards that had spoken to the King, only to be met with a venomous look and upturn of the nose. Feeling the anger stir within her she wanted to fight back, say something but sadly the reasonable part of her mind told her to keep her mouth shut. Instead of returning a look of distaste Elise decided to smile at the female guard in hopes it would only anger them that she seemed unfazed by the unwelcoming look. Sometimes you have to smile like you are unaffected by anyone. "Oh!" Turning back to Lady Cheldarine who had addressed her once more she listened to her words, confusion crossed her face for a moment when she had spoken about being kin. "I'd like that, to become better acquainted." At least I can show some effort in wanting this peace to work. "I… well." Frowning slightly, she looked down at her hands shaking her head, "I hope you don't take offence to this but well… Eorzians they never really thought about teaching your customs as I'm sure that might be said the same here. I guess it is ignorance really." Pondering the thought as she rubbed her arm slightly feeling a chill, "I don't know much of your customs here, lifespans or anything if I'm honest. I was only ever taught the history of my own country." Grimacing slightly as Elise confessed how very little knowledge she had of this country. "Should it be permitted I would love to learn." Returning the smile once more, it wasn't awkward talking with Lady Cheldarine, it was not what she had expected as Elise honestly thought that the feast would be such an awkward encounter for her. "So, you are the King cousin?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Pale fingers had taken hold on a book, the book itself was on the royal family of Morganythian and its lords and ladies. Elise felt it was a good idea to understand the history, the families that all supported their king, but before she could open it or even settled down to the read the door had opened forcing her to look around to see none other than him walking inside. What is he doing here? Surely not looking for me, I hope. However, as Elise began to think on what could have brought the King to the library, she felt her anger rise at his words of greeting. Oh… it's you? Charming, absolutely charming who the hell does he think he is? Its you? I am not some peasant, not a spy to assassinate him. How insulting. There was a fire in her blue orbs as she looked at him, fingers gripping the book so hard in her hand it was trembling slightly. "Apologies, I did not realise I was to stay confined to my room seeing as I am already confined to the palace." Words spoken through gritted teeth as she glanced down at the book in her hands calming herself from the anger, she had felt moments before. I must compose myself; he probably enjoys seeing me react in such a way, relishes in my anger and unhappiness here. Standing tall and proud Elise was dressed in a fine gown that any royal Princess would wear, it had a beautiful black lace trim and sat off of her shoulders, the only catch was that it was black and it contrasted against her pale skin. Black a colour often seen in mourning, but Elise thought it was fitting as she was mourning her freedom, her impending marriage and being bound to a warlord that clearly disliked her as much as she did him. There was nothing they would have in common, but words of Lady Cheldarine came to mind from the feast. He could make a good husband. No, nonsense. He is a king, he doesn't need a romance, we are not destined to have love in this cruel game of power. Looking him up and down she could see he was dressed simply, no armour to show the power he held but there were still weapons sat at his belt just in case something should happen. It was strange to see him like this, it made him look like a normal person not a King with the weight of a country on his shoulders and a distasteful marriage to sort out. Feeling her anger diminish as he stepped in making conversation, she looked at the book in her hands feeling a little embarrassed for her earlier remark and anger at his greeting. Smiling as she looked around the room at the vast number of shelves adorned with books, scrolls and ancient texts she nodded. "It is quite the collection; you must be proud of it. This has to be years, no centuries worth of information at your fingertips." Glancing back to the book that was clasped in her hands she held it up slightly, "I thought I'd start with this, it's only polite to learn about those who graciously host me here. Lady Cheldarine has been wonderful as have my ladies." It was no lie, the ladies although spying on her had been nothing but lovely as well as Lady Cheldarine. Hesitating before she spoke her next words she frowned ever so slightly, a part of her didn't want to ask but then if anyone would know it would be him. Blue eyes downcast as a flash of worry passed through them unsure on how he would react "I don't suppose… you have heard anything from Eorzia?" Tentatively asking as she spoke her home county name, her father had yet to write to her and it had been a week. Even her brother hadn't and a part of her had hoped that maybe he had her letters, perhaps they had to be read before she was able too and at first she had been annoyed at the thought but now she just wished there was something. It was hard not to feel alone whilst here in enemy land not knowing anyone and the idea of her family not writing made her feel as if she had been exiled for them. Sold away like nothing.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad watched as the Princess trembled before him, her white fingers clenched around a leather bound tome she had drawn from the shelves. What was this? Fear or anger? Did it matter either way? Just another manifestation of the rift between their peoples, between their countries, and between them as people. Then she spoke and all became clear, it was anger, of course it would be anger. I should have known that about this Eorzian Princess by now. He felt her eyes linger over him as his own did the same. The black lace dress against her pale skin, it reminded him of the gown she had worn the night of the feast, the one that he pictured her in whenever the Princess crossed his mind. How different it was to the bright and gaudy colours he normally associated with the people across the border. There was something almost sculptural about it, the play between black and white, like marble and basalt. Regal perhaps. Ozragad wondered then what it was that she thought of him... Suddenly she looked away from him, at the book clutched in her hands. She was embarrassed? What by? Had she noticed the way he had been staring at her, looking her over? Perhaps she mistook it for a sign of desire. Ridiculous of course, why should he have any desire for an Eorzian Princess, other than for the sake of his people? She is my enemy, that is I think of her and wonder what she thinks of me, no other reason necessary. He coughed into his hand and broke his own gaze away, walking past her and deeper into the library. When she spoke again and he turned once more to face her. And she was smiling, complimenting him on the great trove of books and scrolls assembled within the palace. The King could swear he that he felt a light flush in his cheeks. Why would that be? He hoped he was not coming down with a fever. "Yes... well.. I cannot take credit for it. This was mostly the work of my mother, and my grandfather before her. I have made few additions." He frowned then, realising that was not strictly true. There was a large collection of Eorzian literature he had plundered from the Royal Library of Novrandt before he had burnt the rest. Perhaps this was not the best time to mention that. The book she held up was one he was familiar with, Ysgollia's Genealogies of the Great Houses, it had been commissioned as a gift to his grandmother when she had wed the House of Gwydion onto the throne of Morganyth. It showed the lineages of all the ancient Formori nobles that still resided east of the Kazadum, and traced the roots of many of them back to the mythic Kingdoms and Queendoms that had once existed where now only Eorzian humans ruled. It would no doubt be something of grim read for her. Wait why should he care? It will just lead to some other fight, some other conflict with her. That is why I care, nothing more. "My cousin has a kind heart. But that is a dry and ponderous tome of history, Ysgollia was a diligent researcher but his prose lacks finesse. I would recommend 'Recollections upon the Queen's Court', less scholarly but a much but more colourful picture of life at court. More recent too..." He stopped. That book had been written near the start of his reign, most of those it mentioned were dead, and it had been written before her grandfather had even been born. "Relatively speaking of course." It was his own turn to feel embarrassed it seemed. How long had it been since he had commissioned a new work to sit in here? Some of his retired generals had set down memoirs of his campaigns that they had generously sent him, but he had not chronicled a single year of his reign, not since the war. Ozragad coughed and turned away again, pretending to examine whatever collection of books and scrolls happened to be in front of him. Which in this case were... the erotic poetry Idras of Iscarion. His face went pale. Thankfully most of it was written in old High Formori. She couldn't read High Formori could she? Wait! Why do I care if she could?! He almost missed what she said, had he heard anything from Eorzia? Of course had heard from Eorzia, he had spies and scouts over the border sending dispatches, as well as envoys riding to and from the capital hammering out the exact terms of the peace treaty, the wedding, the dowry, the alliance that would follow, everything really. Then he saw the downcast look upon her face and realised she did not mean had he heard from Eorzia in that sense. "There are envoys travelling between our two countries regularly now. Lord Chancellor Iria oversees our correspondence, I will no doubt he seeing him later today. I will ask him when I do."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Why does he keep staring at me? Should I say something?... Hesitating to speak she heard his cough as if to break the awkward silence she bit her lip slightly unsure on how to feel. Confusion swept through her seeing him dressed in such manner, no heavy weight holding him down. Nothing screaming regal, well he still held himself in such a manner, but it was strange not have the clothes accompanying it. It still made her feel quite overdressed for their spontaneous meeting in the library and quite self-conscious. He is an enemy, do not forget that. Do not let your guard slip, not once. The compliment on the library seemed to have eased into more of a conversation, her grip on the book loosened as she looked over at the King noting that something seemed different. Was that a flush? Did he just take a compliment? No, don't be silly. This lack of sleep is really catching up with me. I need to fix that. Talking herself out of the idea that he had taken the compliment she focused back on his words to hear about who had started the collection. Blue eyes looked back towards the books as she thought about how his mother and grandfather before her had created this, he had added some, but it sounded as if mainly it had been them. "It's wonderful, books are a great source of knowledge and they say knowledge is power." Smiling as she looked back over at Ozragad realising that she was having more of a conversation with him than they had ever had before. I guess he isn't so bad. Wait… why am I even saying that? Looking back at the book in her hands as he explained how it would not be such a colourful read. Do I care about that? That is nice of him though, to suggest something more tasteful and recent. Staring at the book she turned to the shelf putting it back in its place, taking his suggestion of taking a read of 'Recollections upon the Queen's Court'. "Thank you, I will follow that advise, I will read over that one." It felt strange not having some sort of argument with him, or disagreement for that matter. In a strange way it was nice not to be at odds with him at this moment. Turning to the shelves she looked through the books trying to find the piece he had suggested, there were quite a few titles. Perhaps I should ask? Turning to look back at him she saw him looking over a particular collection, curiosity got the better of her and she could help but ask. "What are you looking at? Is that the book you suggested?" Taking a step towards Ozragad to see if it was the book, sadly she assumed it was not and in fact it was not any language she had seen before. "What language is that?" However, her attention was caught when he had realised what she had said, the fact she had asked about her home Eorzia and she tried not to look downcast over it. To show him that openly she was quite distressed on the fact she had not heard anything, it made her feel quite alone in a country that called for her death. Stop it, don't look so pitiful. That is not who you are. Clearing her throat as she stood tall smiling once more, "Thank you, if there is news will you let me know this evening? If it's no trouble of course. I just… I'll be honest. I'm a little anxious I have yet to hear anything from back home. I just thought that I… I just thought my father would have wanted to say something." A part of her cringed for blurting a little bit of that out, he did not need to know how she felt over it. He didn't even care, but it was hard as she thought that she meant more to her family than not to write. It was hard not to be disappointed over the fact they had not spared a thought for her. "I am free to write to them? If I request supplies that is okay to do?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Deciding it was best not to push the subject of the old poetry Elise watched as he plucked a book above her with ease, a part of her didn't think it was poetry especially with how quickly he had stepped away from it stating it was irrelevant. "Ah… thank you." Feeling herself smile naturally as she took the book from him, but for a moment she felt their fingertips touch in the brief exchange, and it was hard not to blush, not feel her heart skip a beat. It was hard not to feel something when a part of her desired to be loved. Don't be a fool, that is not on the cards for me. Reprimanding herself she glanced down at the thinner book from the last in her hands, the faded coloured cloth and beautiful golden font. Slender fingers tracing the letters upon the book as she took a moment to glance at it, taking a peek at the pages inside as she tried to forget about the touch and how for a brief moment, she had forgotten herself. I am foolish, he probably thinks I'm some stupid girl with feelings. I don't have a desire to be with him, to be loved. No. What had made it worse was that she had rambled about her feelings, shown weakness and given him something he could use to his advantage which was all too clear at his response. The way he had changed, forced a laugh at no doubt her expense made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Trouble you? Yes, because my sole aim of coming here is to trouble you. Get over yourself." Instantly she had become defensive, angered by his words but it was hard to hide the hurt as he continued. Feeling her heart stop it took an additional few seconds for Elise to process what he had said, it was a wave of emotions as she felt her walls crumble. Would they care enough to reply? They have just left me here, sold me off. No communication. Nothing. No. I won't cry, I won't give him satisfaction. He would love it if I broke down like some weak child. The hurt was soon replaced by anger and a frown crept up on her face as she clutched the book in her hands narrowing her eyes at King Ozragad. "THEY gave me to you. That means nothing because I have not given myself to you and I NEVER will." Speaking up firmly as she glared at him, "No one could love you, you're just a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill." Her words were laced with venom as it was clear he had struck a chord with her with his words. Anger coursed through her as she dared to fight back, speak up against him as she couldn't, no wouldn't let him win. "You know what. I don't want to learn about your people. I. Don't. Care." Without even thinking the book in her hands went flying towards him as she threw it with force, the anger clouding her judgement on how stupid throwing a book at him was. Although Elise wasn't finished, the idea that her family didn't care had really affected her and even though it had been something she felt hearing the words from him made it worse. "You might as well keep me as a prisoner or kill me because I will NOT marry you. I refuse." Elise felt her hands tremble as she clenched them into fists, shaking with anger. "I will NEVER marry you."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "No one could love you, you're just a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill." Those words tore deeper into King Ozragad's soul than he could have ever guessed before they had been uttered from the Princess's lips. He did not understand why, such accusations had been levelled at him before by his many foes and enemies, but never had they stung like this. Why did it hurt so? And why was his fury rising forth from the gashes those words left in their wake? Why should he care if she thought him incapable of love? Ozragad knew what the was capable of, more so than this Hydaelyn girl, surely? But still this anger, this agony. That had to be some reason. Surely there had to be some way to make sense of what he was feeling in that moment. And then it spoke inside of him. That quiet mean voice, his war voice, the one that told him how to kill and destroy. And its words filled the king with horror. It's because she reminds you of her. It's because you realise what she says is true. You are a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill. No one could love you... not even her... not if she had seen you as the man you would become. He stood there stock still for a moment. His deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts running freeing in his uncomprehending mind. Ozragad was so preoccupied he almost forgot the Princess was there until she hurled a book at him. It was pure instinct that took over then. His body reacted as his mind reeled in the way it had been trained to, through long practice in the arts of war. The King ripped his dagger from its belt and parried the tome away from his face with an errant swipe. It exploded into a shower of slashed and torn pages. Had he really been expecting happiness when this had all been over? That when he had won his long and bloody war that he would have gone back to being the man before? That he would find love again? Father children of his own? Perhaps... No... Part of him had not expected to survive at all. But he had trod that blood soaked path to its conclusion and still he was here. Ozragad looked down at the knife in his hand and back up to Princess, more words pouring out of her mouth. Words that were the undoing of the plans he had woven. His plans that would have made all the blood, and death, and horror of his war mean something. He knew now that true happiness would forever elude him. But he could still win his war, even if it had made him into a monster. He could still make it all mean something. It had to all mean something. "You will never marry me?" He spoke the words slowly, through gritted teeth. His knuckles whitened around the grip of his blade. If she refused him it was all for nothing. All the strength of his Kingdom spent to gain nought but leagues of wilderness and scorched earth. He could not, would not, allow that to happen. The King lunged at the Princess. Swift as a mountain lion his free hand made to grip her slender neck and use his greater strength and weight to drive her back into the bookcase behind her. She was light in his grasp. He realised then just how easy it would be squeeze shut her throat and throttle her with one hand. "YOU WILL NEVER MARRY ME?!" He roared directly into her face this time, letting specs of spittle fly. "NEVER?!" Ozragad raised the knife to where she would be able to see it. "Then what use are you to me?! If I am bloodthirsty killer, incapable of love, then you should really endeavour to make yourself as useful as possible to me. Because if you are not, then I have no need of you." He would make her go along with his marriage. One way or another.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise could see Ozragad stand there for a moment as if taking in her words, something she instantly regretted saying because it wasn't smart of her to let her emotions take over like she had. It put her in a dangerous position one she wouldn't be able to defend herself in, and she was alone with him, none of her personal guards were near to come to her aid but what could they really do when going against a King? A Warlord no less who had stories of horror told throughout her own Kingdom. Treville of course would stand her ground and protect her, but the others would hesitate unsure on what their position was here, and she couldn't blame them for that at all. It wasn't the smartest move on her side, to provoke someone that could easily overpower her and kill her within moments, and she wouldn't be able to fight back as she was no fighter. Eyes of hers watching the dagger that had easily cut down the book she had hurled his way, a mess of paper on the floor which would just as easily be her own blood if she wasn't careful. Happiness was never going to be on the cards for her, she had lost her freedom to serve this beast in a bid to bring peace and end the bloodshed of the war that had raged for years. When he spoke, she felt her confidence falter, waiver as her gaze fell onto the dagger in his hands. Gripped so tightly she could see the whitening of his knuckles and her own heartbeat quickened as she started to think of some sort of escape. If not now, then certainly in the evening she could try to make a run for it whilst he slept. It seemed silly but to her running away had been a thought that crossed her mind on more than one occasion whilst being here, it was only now did she think it was more feasible with this threat before her. Elise had made up her mind, she would try to make a run for it and just disappear, they could find some other dutiful wife for this Fomori King as she would not be it. Barely enough time to process what happened next her eyes widened in shock as she felt the grip of his hand against her neck, the strength of the hold and the weight of him easily overpowered her and steered her into the bookcase behind her. Wooden shelves crashing into her back and she bit back a sound of pain from the sheer force of what he had done. Knowing tomorrow that her pale skin would be stained by bruises sore from the impact of the wood against her body, but for a split second she had feared for her life. Feared that he would just in fact choke the life out of her and the war would continue on as if she had never existed. Cringing as she heard him roar in her face, questioning her on how she had boldly stated she would never marry him she couldn't help but wince as she felt the anger and rage and soon the knife came into view and she struggled against his hold even though it did nothing. "Never." The whisper left her lips before she could even stop herself, even in the midst of fear she wanted him to know that she would never marry him. It was of no use really, she could deny the marriage all she wanted but her father would never allow it for starters and she honestly had no say when it came to her own fate on things like this. After all she would have always been bartered away to the highest bidder, that was her role in life. "Go on, kill me. You'll only prove to everyone your true intentions and that peace was never an option! I won't marry you; and I certainly won't bare your children so why don't you just end my life?" Elise couldn't say what possessed her to egg him on when she was clearly at a disadvantage with his hands around her throat, she wasn't really thinking straight with the lack of sleep and the constant worry that someone was going to kill her here. She knew she would have to back down to him, she would have to concede, and it left a bad taste in her mouth thinking about it. Had Treville been here she wouldn't have overstepped like she had, the guard knew when she was treading a fine line and would signal to her when she had so it usually meant she could catch herself before things went too far. By now Elise could feel herself tremble in his grasp, fear settling in as she waited for him to hurt her as she had stepped out of line. Her heart hammered away in her chest at the anticipation which was only making her feel anxious, reaching her hand up clasping it around his wrist as she tried to pull him off of her neck so she could at least put distance between them, her back was beginning to ache and she just wanted to go hide away.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn After returning to her room Elise had found that her letters had finally been sent to her and she was sure it had to be some sort of power play, as if he was reminding her that there were people, she cared for back home who he would cut down if she did not obey him. The contents of the letters however did not make her mood any better whilst here and only angered her because it didn't seem like they cared about her welfare whilst here. The first one was from her father who was diplomatic as always, talking about this bringing peace and how she should behave herself and watch that temper of hers. My Dear Elise, I am glad to hear of your safe arrival and I hope that the travel wasn't too taxing on you. Treville is sure to keep an eye on you whilst there, but I do hope you think before you speak as I doubt they would appreciate your temper. Talks are still under way in regard to the wedding, but I doubt it will take much longer as the council are happy with the idea of a peace between the two Kingdoms, so they are trying to push it through quickly. Yeah, but you aren't. You just want the war to continue, you hoped he would take me hostage. Elise thought to herself bitterly as she continued reading sighing to herself as she didn't see anything worthwhile in the letter that he had wrote, other than to remind her of her place it seemed. Your brother continues to entertain the court, countless broken hearts and ruined reputations have followed. Regardless I will uphold my promise to him once your marriage is final. I have sent along more of your things; they should be with you shortly. King Regis Hydaelyn. Brother is whoring himself as per usual then. Elise shook her head as she screwed up the letter from her father tossing it to one side finding no comfort in what he had wrote to her. There wasn't any hint of care and she felt like he had just tossed her aside counting her a loss as if she was something to be owned. That was one major thing she hated when it came to arranged marriages, being born as a woman. In her Kingdom a woman was like owning property, to be moved, sold or bartered off and she had to follow rules, keep her purity whilst her brother just did whatever he wanted and slept his way through the castle. Picking up the other letter she recognised the hand and knew it was brothers, it surprised her that he bothered to write something, but it was nice to see he seemed like he cared but that was dependant on the contents. Opening up the last letter she began to read rolling her eyes as it was just more pointless words talking about the peace and her marriage. Dropping that pile of rubbish back onto the table she moved to the bed to finally get some sleep knowing she was not going to enjoy her upcoming time here. ------------------- Elise had been right in the fact that she would not enjoy her time here, in the few days the bruising had fully fleshed out on her back, causing discomfort as she tried to rest. Nights hadn't been easy as she was plagued by dreams of him, of King Ozragad strangling her and her demise whilst here. It was all she could focus on, her death, the death of those she loved, and she had imagined the cruellest of deaths as that smile of his haunted her of a night. Ozragad had been true to his word in the fact that she had been confined to her rooms and she barely saw anyone except the ladies that served her, she did enjoy the peace at least and by now the marks from her neck had faded. Even though she had been confined to her room she had still heard the rumours that swirled around, apparently people didn't bother being quiet about it, but she figured that was down to most of them wanting her demise here. Elise partly hoped for the idea of him sending her back, but she didn't think it would happen and even he did choose to not marry her she was certain he would rather she was a hostage more than anything. Sighing to herself she was sat at the window jut looking outside not expecting anyone to visit so she hadn't really dressed for the occasion, she was wearing a simple pale pink dress with a grey shawl fabric draped over her shoulders to keep her warm as she sat at the window watching the bustle of people below. Glancing at the door with a frown as someone knocked, she watched only to be met with a visitor that she did not expect. "Lady Cheldarine." Acknowledging the woman as she rose from her position at the window and moved to one of the sofas in front of the fire figuring the woman was here for a reason and wished to discuss something. Taking a seat, she felt her own smile falter as she didn't expect the boldness of the other, calling her out on causing trouble which she had done, but then he wasn't exactly innocent in the matter either. "I… I would not call it trouble myself. I guess we had a disagreement of sorts. It seems we are both quite stubborn." Elise was finding it hard to put to words the situation that had happened.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine followed her host to the cushioned divans that were tastefully arranged around the hearth of the Princess's receiving room in the Silver Tower. She waited for Elise to take a seat before she herself settled down opposite her on the other side of fireplace, neatly gathering her skirts as she did so. The Formori woman listened to the Princess's response with her head cocked to the side. A ghost of smile played across her lips. "Well it certainly seems to have caused yourself some trouble, your Highness. I know my cousin is not an easy man to get along with, he is as you said, stubborn. Perhaps if you told me what happened exactly I could be some assistance in repairing this rift between you? After all, I do know him better than most." At that moment there was a flicker of an idea in the eyes of Lady Cheldarine. She turned to the Formori serving woman who had been discretely attending them from the back of the room and smiled wide at her. "I am however, somewhat parched this morning. Such a long way up to the palace, and so many stairs! Seems silly considering its all still underground, doesn't it? You wouldn't be dear and fetch us some tea would you?" The servant glanced over to Princess Elise as if searching for a counterorder, before bobbing her head obediently and disappearing out of the room. When they were alone Lady Cheldarine turned back to the Princess, holding one finger up. "A moment please." She stood and briskly walked over the door, placing her ear flat against it and listening for a few moments before seeming being satisfied by what she did or did not hear. She then walked over to one of the internal walls of the tower, lined with dark wooden panelling. With one finger she tapped on each of panels, listening as she did so. At the fifth panel she stopped and listened longer more intently than she had at the others, lingering for half a minute. Eventually she was again satisfied by what she heard, it was only then that the Lady turned back to the Princess and returned to her seat by the fire. "Well that makes me feel better, it appears Manawyndan is not currently up to his old tricks. Walls do have ears in this palace I'm afraid. Still, no unwanted eavesdroppers at the moment." She let out her soft husky laugh. "Now tell me, why has my cousin locked you up in here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise felt herself hesitate as Lady Cheldarine caught on, she never expected the woman to take note and realise that her cousin had been a little rough handed with her. Not that it should matter, but Elise didn't what to voice the fact he had been rough with her as she didn't want to appear like some weak little girl. "Wooing me? Please I doubt he would even know how to woo someone nowadays." Sighing softly to herself as she could never imagine this King even start to woo a lady and court them, not that she even wanted it to happen herself. It was strange hosting this woman, she showed no outward signs of wanting to cause her harm which was refreshing but she still found it hard to trust even though Lady Cheldarine was quite easy to talk too. Elise knew she was merely overthinking everything, but it was hard when even her family didn't seem to care too much about her as their letters spoke of the promise to her brother and this wedding. Not one hint of if she was okay. Watching as the other woman reached the window, she found herself furrowing her brow as the question was posed to her, something that had crossed her mind her mind briefly, but it passed by without a second thought. "Well… I had considered it, but I guess I just assumed he was pressured for it by the council." "I'll be brutally honest, my own family and myself included expected this to be a trap and well too good to be true. My father originally threw the offer out to appease the court back home, not for it to be accepted." Leaning forward on her seat as she watched Lady Cheldarine curious to why Ozragad had pursued peace, "Tell me then, why is he pursuing the option of peace? As you say peace doesn't really suit him, not when stories of this fearsome warlord proceeds him."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "It is as I said, he is not as strong as he seems." Lady Cheldarine sighed and let the curtain she had been holding fall back into place. As she turned back towards Princess Elise a shadow pasted over her face. A look of pain, of sorrow. The look of person remembering something they would much rather forget. "This war, it has destroyed almost everything it touches, and that is true of both your county and mine. But Eorzia is larger and richer, and the land here... well you must have seen it on your journey to the capital. Every Formori fighting is another one taken from the fields. Every fighter that falls in battle needs to be replaced." That expression lingered there across her features once again. From the sleeve of her dress, she drew out a small square of white silk and used it to dab the corner of her amber eyes. She did not fully loose her composure, but it was clear enough that something was clearly affecting her. "My own husband... well, it is common enough story for citizens of both our lands." The handkerchief disappeared once more into whatever secret pocket it had been drawn from. That pained look too disappeared, but away into the other secret pocket all people possess, the one in which they hide the contents of their heart. "But the point is that there are fewer and fewer to work the land, and the land was poor to begin with. Three of our last five harvests have been marred by Ashfall. Without a proper harvest this year, Morganyth will starve. If there is peace then the soldiers can home, they can work the fields, they can get the harvest in." On the journey from Eorzia they had indeed past innumerable empty and barren fields, left fallow once they had entered Morganyth territory. There had been fewer signs of this poverty and privation in the palace where Elise had been staying, but the feast she had attend had indeed been meaner than those in Eorzia. There was often a lack of common foods, such as soft fruits or fresh vegetables. Even the portions of the Formori were mostly smaller than those of the Eorzians. "So you see the dilemma that faces the King? He must have peace before the harvest. Either he risks everything, on one last desperate assault against your family and your Kingdom in order to crush you completely before the autumn, or he negotiates. Now my cousin can be a fool at times, but he is not completely reckless." She walked back towards the Princess and seated herself back down upon the cushions there once more. Her face was grave, she was deadly seriously. "He needs you. He needs the lands and the peace your marriage brings in order to rebuild his country, in order to salvage something from this mess of a war. It is either that or risk defeat and ruination on scale he has thus far avoided. I tell you this not for the love of my country or my people or for the sake of my cousin. I tell you this because I need you to make this marriage work too. I need you to save my sons from this war, because it is they who will be fighting it next if this peace does not work." There was now a desperate edge to her voice. "And it may not seem this way to you now, not after what he has done you. But now you are in Morganyth, you need him. You need Ozragad. My cousin can behave like a monster at times. But he is nothing compared to some of the men who once followed him and oppose the peace now. Men like Zakylwe Ahoraa."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise kept herself seated as she began to listen to Lady Cheldarine tell her tale, that this Warlord King Ozragad was not as strong as he seemed. Somehow, she didn't believe that for a second, but then maybe there was more to it than meets the eye. Frowning as she could see the hurt expression on the other womans face as she expressed views on the war. There was no denying this war had destroyed everything for both Kingdoms, Eorzia had seemingly faired better due to its larger land and riches they were able to keep people on the fields and reap the rewards of fresh crops. With their lands being much greener it meant that it didn't need much tending too so when people did drop due to the war it didn't leave too much of a lasting effect. "I'm sorry." It was an automatic response because she sympathised with the loss of the other womans husband. Though she could do nothing to make it right or any better she did like this woman as she had showed nothing but kindness towards her and it didn't feel in any way forced. Thinking back on the journey here there hadn't been much to look at and it was far different from what she expected, barely any sort of greenery and somewhat dark and dreary to most foreigners. Elise was beginning to understand why that was. "It makes sense why he was more interested in gaining land more than the dowry that comes alongside marriage. I did not realise it was quite so bleak here. You'd never be able to tell, he doesn't openly state this. It matters not, as much as I said I wouldn't marry it's not my choice. It is down to my father; my say means nothing back home." Tradition back in Eorzia meant that she would be forced to marry whomever her father deemed fit. "It was simply an empty threat because I can't control my own temper." Shaking her head, she rubbed her arms feeling an odd sense of guilt at her outburst earlier. Now learning much more in the short space of talking with Lady Cheldarine than she had in her whole time here. "I…" Hesitating slightly as she sighed, "I will try to make it work." Admitting more to herself that she would end up marrying this Warlord whether she liked it or not, making it work would be the easier route. "What do you mean once followed him?" Furrowing her brow at the mention of Zakylwe, a name she didn't know but she assumed it was someone who had been important in this Kingdom. "Is it because of the peace? Surely, they can see what this war has done? That it's the best option whether short term or long term." A part of her didn't really expect their marriage to last, deep down she did fear he would have her killed off and pass it off as natural causes. It was probably her overreacting of course as she liked to think of worst case scenarios, leaning towards the negative rather than the positive.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise fell quiet again as she listened intently to what Laldy Cheldarine was telling her. This Zawylwe sounded like quite a dangerous person as she let her speak eager to learn about this country and its people even if they were out to harm her. "Sounds more like a beast than a man." Unable to stop the words that left her mouth, eyes widened as she placed her hand over them embarrassed that she had allowed herself to speak before she had even thought it through. "Sorry… I really must learn to think before I speak. Not my strong point." Looking over to the door as she watched the other glance to it, she frowned knowing time must be running short, but she still had so many questions to ask and who knew when she would get a chance to speak with Lady Cheldarine in private again. The words left an uncomfortable silence as it was revealed just how much danger she would be in if this failed, her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she could not help the dark thoughts cross it as she thought gravely on what they might do to someone like her. It sent a shiver down her spine and she could say she was honestly fearful for what could happen to her here. It had been a surprise at first knowing this had not been a trap, after all most had assured her, she was being sent to her own death, but now the threat felt more real. "R-Right… no, of course. Just hypothetical." Forcing a smile as she tried to pull herself away from the dark thoughts that had entered her mind. Nodding as the woman said it wouldn't come to that, perhaps it wouldn't and Ozragad would keep her safe especially if he was bound by the marriage treaty. It did guarantee her safety if she went through with it, if ill will happened on her death the war would continue, and nothing would change just a broken treaty to add to the reasons of their war. "What?" Elise couldn't stop the shock on her features, she never knew about the first wife and that alone sprung so many more questions. "Brother-in-law..." Hesitating as she looked at the door herself before snapping her head back to Lady Cheldarine, "What happened to her?" She had to know, not just because of her burning curiosity but for the fact it would probably help in her own survival here. If Lady Cheldarine wouldn't tell her would she even dare to ask King Ozragad? After a few of there interactions she knew how easily she could put her foot in it and asking about a first wife who she could assume was dead as she hadn't seen or heard of the woman before would certainly earn her more discomfort here.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth A clear look of dawning realisation appeared upon the heart shaped face of Lady Cheldarine. Her hand rose up to cover her mouth as if to prevent the words she had just spoken, amber beaded bangles catching the light of the fire as she did so. But it was too late, the unspoken, deeply buried secret that lingered over the court of Cirith Anyr had been resurrected. Brought back to life by a careless word. "Oh... of course. You would know nothing of her. It was so long ago, before the war even. Her name was Liveuta. She died." There was a sudden crack from one of the burning logs in the hearth that spat sparks into the air. Lady Cheldarine jumped in her seat, eyes casting around the room as if looking for someone. But they were still alone. The serving woman had not yet returned. She took a closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am sorry, I should not have brought her up and you should not either. Especially not to the King. He forbade anyone of speaking her name in his presence many years ago. It is a particularly sore subject for him, when the Queen died she-" The door swung open and instantly Lady Cheldarine switched the subject to something completely different, an inane conversation about which young women at the court she approved of and could make potential matches for her son Elethiomel, and which she had reservations about. The serving woman brought the herbal tea to the table they sat at and it was poured and served to them along with selection of sweetmeats. The serving women returned to her place sitting unobtrusively at the back of the room. They continued to talk for some time, but never about what they had spoken of alone.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn It seemed that Lady Cheldarine had spoken more than she intended as Elise caught the look upon her face and the covering of the mouth with her hand as if it would take back what had already been spilled. Elise was burning to know about this first wife, what had happened other than that she had died. Leaning forward as she pushed for more, listening intently as Lady Cheldarine was so close to telling her until it was ruined by the serving woman. Typical. Elise thought bitterly as she settled back into the chair nodding along to Lady Cheldarines words. "Yes. I understand what you are saying. I wish I could have more input, but I'm still learning and meeting all these people myself." Elise slipped into the other conversation smoothly, it hadn't been the first time she had to do something like this as that was often the case when in court. Conversations changed at the drop of a hat to hide anything they could have been discussing before. "I'm sure you will choose a great match for your son. I know you're rather proud of him." Elise smiled as she picked up one of the cups to enjoy the warm herbal tea, after all they had requested for the tea, so she didn't want to ignore it and look suspicious. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach me sometime. You have a wealth of knowledge about your home here, I'd love to learn it myself, embrace the culture so maybe one day people can be proud of me." Eyes flicked to her cup of tea as she blew off the steam from the top before taking a sip of the hot liquid, finding that as it ran down her throat it warmed her greatly. Elise hadn't realised how cold she found herself to be lately, but the lack of sleep didn't aid with that fact. Just chatting idly Elise continued to sip her tea happy that she had acted quite naturally when the serving woman had arrived back, "Thank you Lady Cheldarine, for the visit. It's most appreciated." There was no hint of a lie in her voice as she was grateful to see the woman, she had been alone for quite a few days with no visitors and this had been a nice change of pace to her day. Even if it had been unexpected as she would not have been surprised if Ozragad left her to rot here, but the conversation had her thinking on just how important the peace was to that warlord. Now with new information it was becoming difficult to know what the right option was anymore, should she just marry him? Let there be peace among the kingdoms as her happiness compared to thousands was just a small price to pay for that. Just because she was bound to him didn't mean she had to be with him every day, she was sure she'd be allowed to o her own thing. When it was safe. Flashes of her arrival passed through her mind remembering just how much unrest to his people this was causing, there were people out here would kill her within a heartbeat.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Boys can be so difficult though, especially at his age. Trying to be a man, while still thinking and feeling very much like child. I want someone who will be a good influence. Steadying, perhaps." Lady Cheldarine sighed and sipped at the cup of herbal tea in her hands. She sat back and leaned into the cushioned divan as the Princess spoke of learning about Morganyth and Formori culture. She smiled at the Princess's compliments, with almost a hint of smugness. "Well in the case, we must set a date for you to visit my estate in the city, your Highness. Once all this silly confinement has passed." She gave the Princess a smile at that and a roll of the eyes that went unobserved by their eavesdropper. "Although I assure you, there are many in this Kingdom who are already proud of you, myself foremost among them." The polite and inconsequential conversation between Lady Cheldarine and Princess Elise persisted for sometime after the return of the serving woman. They drank tea, nibbled at biscuits, and made pretence of ladies at leisure for all there to see. But it did not last indefinitely. Eventually there came another knock at the door of the Princess's chambers in the Silver Tower. One of the Princess's guardsmen entered into the sitting room and announced that the Lord Steward, Manawyndan, also sought an audience with Princess Elise. "Ah, it appears the good Lord Steward has gotten word of my impromptu visit, and so quickly too. I do so wonder how?" As she finished speaking with a tone of mock incredulity she gave a throaty laugh and looked directly at the woman sat in the back of the room. "I suppose I had best be on my way then, it would be dreadfully impolite of me to keep the poor old man waiting too long."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was quite content spending her time with Lady Cheldarine, sipping away at the tea and even eating a few biscuits here and there. She had a lot to think about when it came to her engagement with the Warlord, perhaps it was even time to apologise for the behaviour of hers the other day. The stubborn side of her didn't want to be the one to cave first, especially when he had his hands around her throat, she didn't want to appear weak by crawling back with an apology. Pride, however, would not keep her alive so she knew she may have to make that step. "Oh, stop it, you are probably the only one who thinks as much." Elise chuckled to herself finishing off her tea as she placed it back on the table in front of her. If she was honest, she was even surprised that Lady Cheldarine was proud of her, part of her doubted the words but it was nice to hear. Especially when she didn't even have her own ladies of waiting to gossip or discuss with. It had become rather lonesome here, but she wasn't here for herself after all as it was all for the people to stop anymore bloodshed. It seemed though her visit was cut short when there was a knock at the door, looking up as she wondered who else wanted to visit? Elise hadn't expected the visit from Lady Cheldarine let alone anyone else and if she had known she would have worn some more fitting than her pink dress and grey shawl. "My aren't I popular today?" Musing over the idea as she leaned back in the chair of her wondering what had brought all these visits on. "Thank you for the visit, I hope to be able to visit your own estate soon." Offering a soft smile to the other woman whilst subtly hinting to her that she had listened carefully to what they had spoken about and had plans to fix it. Giving a small wave to her guardsmen to signal letting the Manawyndan inside she was curious to know why he was here. After all she hadn't really spoken much with this Lord, but there had to be a reason why he was visiting her whilst she had been confined to her rooms. Sighing softly to herself she sat upright placing a polite smile on her face ready to great him, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but watch the exchange, eyes looking from the pair and she could tell with the undertones there was some sort of fight for power between them. It was like being back at home in her own court watching as others tried to gain some sort of upper hand over the over, little jibes and comments that to any onlooker would seem pleasant when there was a darker truth beneath them. Remembering how her brother would often tell her that keeping up appearances meant everything, that you should never divulge your true thoughts or feelings unless absolutely necessary. Not that I followed that when speaking with Lady Cheldarine earlier, but I didn't sense any danger. Unless I am truly being played whilst here. Frowning ever so slightly at her own thoughts as she continued to listen on. This impromptu visit happened whilst both he and the King were busy, she didn't want them to know she was here? Or that I am being spied upon whilst here as the talk was brisk. I still have many unanswered questions. Realising she had been frowning she placed her polite pleasant smile back on her face before anyone could notice, it seemed that both Manawyndan and Cheldarine were too busy butting heads so to speak. "Farewell Lady Cheldarine." Smiling as she began to bid the other a goodbye only to find herself caught by Manawydan once more as he didn't let the Formori woman win their little battle. What the elder man had said had clearly struck a chord with Cheldarine and even she had picked up on what she felt to be a quite threatening undertone aiming it towards the eldest son of hers. Elise knew that this woman was proud of her sons, she spoke so highly of them and she had remembered the proud tone of the woman at the feast a good few nights ago as they had spoke with one another. Sympathising with Lady Cheldarine she felt like she should say something, reassure the woman but it wouldn't help any sort of matter. That and being as she held no power here, she kept her mouth shut knowing that it was best to let Lady Cheldarine fight her own battles, the woman was well versed with things like court and Elise knew she would probably just make matters worse rather than help it. Nodding with a soft smile as Lady Cheldarine finally excused herself once more, she turned to Manawydan who had relaxed now the woman was gone, curious as to why he felt so tense around the Formori she knew it was best not to ask such a thing. Again, she found herself frowning when he began to have a small coughing fit, sitting forward she motioned for the server who was still hanging around in the background. "Would you kindly fetch us more tea? Perhaps some water for Lord Manawyndan." Glancing towards the Lord who had come to visit her just after her visit from Lady Cheldarine. "Of course, take a seat." Gesturing to the sofa before she folded her arms across her chest watching him carefully, wondering what had spurred his visit. "I daresay I was not expecting a visit from yourself, but it is welcomed." Knowing deep down there had to be some motive behind it, maybe he had only visited to shoo Cheldarine away. Perhaps he didn't want them talking with one another too much, but then she could just be overthinking things. It was hard not too when surrounded by a foreign place. "What do I owe this pleasure?" Elise kept her guard up around him, there was something she didn't quite like and she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "You are too kind, your Highness." The old lord said as he seated himself opposite the Princess and a fresh cup of tea was poured for him upon the table between them. He returned her own watchful gaze as the refreshments were reset. Apart from a very brief conversation the night of the Princess's arrival to the city, they had not really spoken to one another before. Manawyndan had been seating on the other side of the King at the feast, and there had been few courtly events or functions in the times since. Perhaps they both had some reason to be wary of each other. It was partly Manawyndan's machinations that had brought the Princess to Morganyth, but he had yet to gauge her character, and now he found other actors potentially trying to use her to their own ends. "It has been a morning for unexpected visits then. Did you discuss anything of import with Lady Cheldarine?" He took a sip of the tea that had been poured for him, the delicate cup sitting incongruously in his gnarled and callused hands. When he returned the cup to its saucer, the smile that parted his lips was pleasant enough, but his dark bronze eyes did not match it. "I will be plain with you, Princess Elise. You have had time to... reconsider... certain decisions you made in regards to your upcoming marriage to the King. My purpose in coming here today is to see if you have come to a more... reasonable... position?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise just flashed Manawydan a polite smile at his compliment of her being too kind, she was sure he was just being polite with her as she had ordered new refreshments for them both. Leaning forward she picked up her own cup of tea to hold it in her hands so she could enjoy the warmth more than anything. Manawydan had to be here with an agenda after all and she just had a feeling it had to do with Ozragad, that's why everyone had visited her so far this evening. "Quite, if I'd have known I would have dressed up." Elise spoke simply as she swept her gaze across the room before falling back on the Lord, "Oh you know, just idle gossip. Lady Cheldarine was telling me all about her sons, the idea of setting them up marriages." Waving it off as if they had just spent the day chatting like most of the ladies in court would. "I think she was just being kind seeing as I have not been able to engage in much conversation over here and I showed interest when speaking with her at the feast the other day." Giving away no hint that they would have discussed anything else, after all she did not personally trust this man and she feared she could get the woman into more trouble when she had been trying to help her. Elise could see the smile that didn't reach his lips, but she wouldn't slip up not whilst here within enemy walls. Lifting the cup to her lips she took a sip of the tea watching him over the rim of her cup as he approached the reason why he was here. Tapping her finger against the cup she let the words sit for a moment before she rested it back on her lap, she knew she shouldn't be surprised to find out that Manawydan knew of her and King Ozragads disagreement. This Lord had to be a part of the council and perhaps Ozragad was already coming up with plans to kill her off and be done with it after her refusal to marry him. "I have had plenty of time to consider my options. Yes." Making it sound like it had been her decision, it hadn't but regardless she found it that it irked her that he assumed she had come to a reasonable position. King Ozragad practically had her life in his hands, for a moment she had thought he would just strangle her to death, but no she had to be the reasonable one. "I must have been feeling quite under the weather at the time, homesick perhaps." Elise picked her words carefully, that she had been unwell and that was why she had denied marrying the warlord. "Certain decisions should have not been made in that state. I was looking to seek an audience with him to discuss it."</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise knew she had to keep her wits about her when it came to this councillor, the way he had shut Lady Cheldarine down had struck a chord with her and she had a feeling that he had a lot more in this plan than met the eye. Perhaps she was just being far too suspicious of everyone around her, but that wasn't a bad thing when she was practically surrounded by wolves who could kill her in a heartbeat. "That is… wonderful." Trying to keep her smile in place as he said how the King would be receptive to that idea, or perhaps he was just waiting for another moment to wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life out of her. Unable to tell if Manawyndan was truly happy about the decision she watched the smile and it looked honest enough, no ill will behind it. "O-Oh." Caught off guard by the fact he was willing to go now, she hadn't expected it but maybe it was best to go bury the hatchet whilst he was on agreeable terms as the Lord had said. Even though he had offered her to take time to prepare she didn't feel like it was an option as already it looked like he was ready to go, eager to fix their fight. "No need." Waving it down as she came to her decision that it was best to resolve it now, as much as she would have loved to have been dressed to the nines it didn't feel all that important. "If we are to be married, he will see me in casual attire, so I will not change for the audience with him." Leaning forward as she placed her cup back on the table knowing the server would clean it up whilst they were gone. Rising to her feet she brushed the simple pale pink dress down as she kept the grey shawl wrapped round her shoulders debating on if she should take it. Considering the options, she felt it was better to take it, she could hide her hands beneath the fabric, and he would not be able to see her fiddling with the shawl. Plus, it would keep the cool air at bay, something that she had started to feel more lately which she put down to lack of sleeping. "Of course, if it's no bother I take it you would like to leave now?" Giving him a smile, she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of it being a private audience with a few trusted councillors. Whether it was for her benefit or not she hated the idea that she would have to back down in front of others when she really didn't want too, but on another hand perhaps them being there would make him think twice about strangling her. The marks had faded, but when caught in the right light could be seen to those who were looking for them, after all Lady Cheldarine had caught on to them so easily but Elise knew she had subconsciously touched her neck there giving it attention. "Are you certain he will not mind a visit now? Without any sort of warning?"</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "That would indeed be my preference, Your Highness. His Majesty devotes his mornings to dealing with matters of state. And this is a matter of state, is it not?" The old Formori phrased the statement like it was a question, a single brow raising slightly as he did so. "After all, this is not some ordinary lovers quarrel, Your Highness." As he spoke, Manawyndan's eyes lingered over the Princess's neck as she subconsciously stroked the marks from Ozragad's attack in library that had only occurred a few days earlier. He quickly averted them, and awkwardly coughed into his hand to try and disguise the movement. The very sight of them seemed to be something of an embarrassment to him. If you wish, you maybe bring any number of your guard with you, to ensure your... physical wellbeing. It shan't be necessary, I assure you, but if it would make you feel more... comfortable... then, please. And please, Your Highness, forgive my earlier choice of words, it was to my intent to offend." Carefully, the old man got to his feet and gave a slight bow to the Princess. "I will await you outside your chambers." He left the Princess's sitting room, quietly sighing as he went. --- Across the palace, in the chamber in which his council met, King Ozragad was seated at the head of long polished table of dark wood. One wall was dominated by a series of high narrow windows that looked down on the city below. Opposite them, on the other side of the hall was a series statues stood upon plinths and set back in niches, all carved in the likeness of dead Formori Kings and Queens. The King sat alone, save for the statues. The council dismissed for the morning in order to work on their own tasks while Ozragad continued to pour over the drafts of new documents, laws, and decrees they had been formulating. It was another part of the process of peace. How would Eorzia and Morganyth trade now they were no longer at war? What exports and imports would be subject to additional tariffs and taxes, which would be exempt from said duties. It was tedious. But it was necessary. It certainly seemed easier to take it all by the sword. Frankly more exciting too. But no, that was all done with now. Well... for now. His councillors had impressed upon him that good trading relations with their neighbour would be one of the quickest ways to ensure his treasure was refilled and his people well fed. So swallow his pride he must, and write laws for Eorzian merchants. And it could all still be for nothing... Ozragad set his quill down and rested his head in his hands, his elbows sitting atop the stacked parchments below. It was true, it could come to nothing. There was still no guarantee that the Eorzian Princess would have given into his threating demands. What would do then? Launch a war he knew he most likely couldn't win or reveal it was all bluff and beg for her forgiveness? The forgiveness of a child a fraction of his age, a child descended from those who had been the destroyers of his people. Gods, what a cruel joke. No, he had to trust that she was just making a show of resisting him. Still at the time it hadn't felt like she had just been putting on an act, that anger, staring death in the face. Manawyndan had been furious when Ozragad had told him what he had done. Rightly so perhaps, it had been nothing more than pride, anger, and spite that had begun that quarrel. And how had he decided to resolve it? Through threats of violence and butchery. Not an auspicious beginning to a peaceful marriage and a peaceful age. Is this really the sort of man you are? Manawyndan and some of his other councillors had been trying to talk him into making conciliatory gestures for half the morning. He had resisted their calls thus far, but for how long? There was a timetable to this betrothal, and the longer this went on the sooner word would get back to Eorzia that all was not going well. In the end he had met them half way, he would send Manawyndan in his stead, that way it wouldn't seem as if he was wavering... at least, he hoped it wouldn't. As the King mulled all of these problems over, he was surprised by the sound of someone knocking at the door to the council chamber. He wasn't expecting anyone until the afternoon when the servants would lay out a light repast before he took petitions in the throne room. "Enter." Ozragad commanded.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was soon learning just how invested Manawyndan seemed to be in her marriage to Ozragad with the fact he had referred this matter as something of state. "I suppose not." It was easier agreeing with him, it was no ordinary lovers quarrel as for one they weren't even lovers and she doubted she could even consider that term in the future. Not when every time she closed her eyes, she could see the image of his hands wrapped around her throat and deep down she feared it would happen again. This truly was a matter of state, a marriage to stop a war and bring prosperity to both Kingdoms, to even think love would be involved was naive. Without realising she found her eyes narrowing towards him, bring guards to ensure her physical wellbeing? The very thought angered her making her feel sick at the idea she would even need guards to make sure he didn't lay his hands on her. Taking a moment to compose herself she stopped herself from making a comment and nodded as he left to wait for her to follow along. It wasn't that she would need them, but more that if it would make her feel comfortable then she could bring them and she was thankful she didn't speak too soon on that matter. Taking guards would not be needed, she would not surround herself like she needed to be protected. I do not need their protection from a brute. Elise thought to herself as she took one last sweeping glance of her room before taking her steps outside to follow Manawyndan to finally talk with the King. Offering a forced smile to the Lord she closed the door gently behind her and followed him in silence whilst she let herself think about the upcoming meeting. Building herself up to apologise she hated the idea already; she didn't feel she did anything wrong. It was he who had pushed her to snap with his comments, maybe she had overreacted but at the end of the day he had started it and finished it when being violent towards her. Still… I should remember Lady Cheldarines words. I'll have to apologise he probably doesn't think he did anything wrong. Walking through the castle with the Lord she took in the sights, it had been a few days since she had left her rooms that she had been forcibly confined too and it felt great to be out of them. A fleeting feeling of freedom. Regardless of the fact she had been confined she still walked with her head held high, she would not let anyone see anything but confidence from her even if it wasn't a true reflection on her feelings inside. There was a hint of doubt that maybe Ozragad would not marry her and just have her killed instead like the rumours foretold. It was still option, even if Lady Cheldarine had spoken otherwise in regard to this Kingdoms state it could still happen. He needs me, I have to remember that. I won't be some inferior woman that he can choose to beat around if he so pleases. As they came to the doors, she heard the knock before his voice called out for them to enter, at the sound of his voice she could feel her stomach churn hesitant to walk inside at first as the memory of what happened in the library was still fresh in her mind. Taking in a deep breath she pushed the thoughts down before she moved inside as the doors were opened for her acting as if nothing had happened between them. It was the first time she had stepped foot in this chamber, but before she could take a look at her surroundings, she bowed respectfully to the King still remembering her manners even if she wanted to disregard them and snub him hoping he did not catch the flicker of fear passing through her eyes. "Good morning your highness, is now a good time to talk?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Of all the people in the palace, she had whom Ozragad had least expected to appear through the double doors of the council chamber. The King's golden eyes widened in surprise. He had given specific orders confine her to her to her rooms had he not? How had she come to be here? Had she escaped? No, someone must have countermanded his orders, but who? It did not take long for the culprit to reveal himself. Manawyndan stepped out of the shadows beyond the doorway and positioned himself at the far end of the hall, behind the Princess. The King's face grew grave, set with a frown. He felt his mouth opening, a harsh rebuke forming on his lips for both the Princess and his Steward for defying his orders. He had sent Manawyndan with the attention of avoiding this exact situation. How dare he spring a trap upon me like this! But, no. He stilled his tongue, straightened his expression. He would have words with Manawyndan later, once the Princess was safely out of earshot. He let her bow. She was being polite, deferential even. That was another surprise. He had been expecting more fire, more anger. Had it worked? Had he scared her into submission? Or had Manawyndan coerced her into cooperating somehow? He glanced down at his hand, the one that had wrapped around her throat so easily only a few days before. It was clenched so tightly. He let it loosen, and raised it, bidding her up from her supplication. If she had seen reason, then was no need for any further... cruelty. "I... I had not expected to see you so soon, Princess." Ozragad glanced at his Steward as he spoke, but his eyes quickly flicked back to settle on the Princess. "But this is as good a time as any other. Sit." He gestured towards the seat at the opposite end of the long table.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise could see the surprise at her visit, and she felt an odd sense of satisfaction knowing that he had not expected her. Apparently, it didn't seem like he even wanted her visit as she caught the frown upon his face, she waited for him to spit something out spitefully, but she was surprised to see that didn't happen. Watching the brief exchange, she was certain that he was unaware of her visit and this was Manawyndan orchestrating this so perhaps she could do something a little more daring than she had originally intended. After all Elise was not planning to just bend to his whims, he had been the one to cause the damage between them. "Thank you." Speaking curtly as she took a seat trying not to hear it as an order because she hated the idea of being ordered around by him like some inferior being. Folding her hands neatly on the table she met his gaze holding it for a minute letting the silence fall between them for a moment before she finally broke it speaking up. "I'll be frank, our last interaction didn't go the way I had expected and I'm sure you can agree with that." Tapping her fingers against the wood it was as clear as day to see she was still the same stubborn woman from before, but this time she had more information to play with. "I have had time to consider my own options, what would be best and perhaps I had been a little hasty with my words. I know I'm quite defensive when backed into a corner." Flicking her gaze up back to him the fire in her eyes could be seen as she spoke, confident as always even if she had to hide the bubbling fear that he would wrap his hands around her throat once again. Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms to stop herself from tapping, the fiddling did provide a good distraction, but she needed to be focused right now and not appear to be some weak child in his eyes. I can do this; he should apologise to me after all. I would not have refused to marry if he hadn't been a brute. For that matter he laid hands on me. "I'll marry you, but on one condition." Taking a moment with her pause of words she watched him letting her sentence settle for a moment, that she was willing to marry on one condition. After all Elise was not about to let herself get walked on whilst here, her offer would be more than fair in her eyes, but she did doubt if he would actually agree to it. "You have to apologise to me, for what you did in that room and it has to be sincere. If I feel it's sincere then we can resume as normal."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but finding herself watch Ozragad before her, though she tried to stop herself from fidgeting it was becoming difficult when she didn't truly feel comfortable in his presence. Whether that was because of the act of violence or the fact she knew how trapped she felt she couldn't quite say, but she knew she had found herself rather worried that when married he would do something like that again. No. If I hold me tongue then surely there would be no reason to cause harm? It was not entirely his fault when I boasted such a threat to him. I did not know the severity of his position, the fact it now relies on what he must think a mere child must infuriate him. Elise found herself caught up in her thoughts for a moment until she heard him call out silence, narrowing her eyes as she glanced at him wondering why he would call for such a thing when no one had uttered a single word after her declaration of wanting an apology. Holding her breath, she wondered if he was insulted by her request and that maybe she had just made things a whole lot worse for herself. Not again, he would not hurt me in front of his council, right? Manawyndan does like to meddle, what if? Throwing her gaze over to the elder man who had spoken up suggesting time between them, that he could consider apologising without her presence. For a moment she thought it would be best herself and she couldn't deny that making a swift exit seemed appropriate especially as he did not expect to see her in this room defying his orders of confinement. I must be making such a fool of myself; I should not have listened to anyone but my own judgement. Chastising herself over how she had allowed herself to get so caught up in Lady Cheldarines words and on top of that the rather sneaky Manawyndan. Everyone seemed so caught up in her life, her decisions and she knew she was getting agitated over it. What does it even matter, freedom will never be an option for myself? This is my life, doomed forever more. I should look to make the most of it at least. Finding herself drawn back to Ozragad at his declaration of having made a final decision about her request, well demand. Sitting up straight she met his gaze only to find herself falter under it, seeing the spark in his eyes as she watched expecting him to return to his own seat. Only to find that instead he had begun approaching her and she felt her body stiffen as he came closer, tense at the idea of him being close. Hearing the low husky tone from him she removed her hands from the table placing them in her lap fiddling with her fingers out of sight because she was restless. Swallowing hard she tried to keep composure, but she didn't know where this was going and she kept looking ahead of her even though she knew he was right behind her, his hands resting either side of the chair. Feeling her heartbeat quicken she tried to brace herself from some sort of attack from him, he stood by his words and she wondered if she should have stood by hers in refusing to marry him. Various emotions ran through her as she tried to keep a straight face not wanting to give him any signs of fear, but the emotion was clear as day in her eyes. "I…" Hesitating for a moment as he moved from behind her to her side, she felt strange, he was extending the olive branch so to speak and as much as she had demanded the apology, she wasn't sure if she had expected to receive one. A sincere one at that. Kneeling beside her only meant they were at the same height level and she had never really looked at him close up before. There was an odd sense of beauty to him, the way he held himself he was no boy playing war. This was well and truly a man, a beautiful one, one that could be fearful, but he had apologised to her. Elise felt her features soften as she looked at him taking in the words, she didn't care about him not apologising for his words because all she had wanted was an apology for the violence. "Thank you." Her voice was but a whisper because it had caught her off guard, but none the less she felt a sense of calm within her from the apology. Not sure what she was entirely doing her hand reached out from under the table as she took hold of his gently, keeping him there at her height level for a moment longer. "I would also like to apologise. To you. I did not help that conflict between us. I hope we can start anew today. Maybe even look to make preparations for our wedding?"</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad had not realised how close they were until she had reached out and took his hand in hers. Almost on instinct he began to pull away, but as her fingertips brushed his own he stopped himself. He could feel the difference between them, her soft smooth skin against his own, rough with scars and callouses. Why did she take his hand so? She had called him bloodthirsty warlord but a few days before. Could she not feel the blood that dripped from them still? They were so close that he could breathe in the scent of her. He wondered then, what perfumes and oils did they used in Eorzia? What fragrances did she bathe herself in this morning before she came here? If he pressed his lips to that small, delicate, white hand that held his, what would it taste of? He pulled his gaze up and away from that hand and found that she was looking back at him. There was something in her eyes, a look he had not seen there before. He had seen her anger and her fear, they were emotions he had learned to gauge in those azure pools, fish them up for their depths. But whatever she felt now, it was not fear, it was not anger. It was something else. It made him feel strange, it made it feel afraid, and he did not know why. Get a grip of yourself. You are a King, do not be unmanned by the mere touch of a woman. With hesitance Ozragad pulled his hand away from her and rose from kneeling to stand again. He stilled his face, calmed his nerves, set his walls about him once more. Stiffly, he strode back to his seat at the opposite end of the table. "A new start?" He rolled the words around his mouth slowly, considering them. "Perhaps this would be for the best. As for the wedding, we have largely left the planning of the ceremony with your Father's council. The ceremony is to held in Eoriza, once the final treaty has been devised." "If I may intrude, sire." Manawyndan began to move from his position at the rear to the hall to approach the table. "There are perhaps some Formori customs that could be seen to here before the wedding itself? We did not discuss such things at council today considering the erm... circumstances, but they could some way to familiarise our people with their Queen-to-be." The Lord Steward stood behind a chair equidistance between his King and the Princess. He appealed to Ozragad for permission to join them. The King gave it with a wave of his hand and the old man cautiously took a seat, his dark flinty eyes darting back and forth between the two royal persons at either end. "Perhaps there are some Eorzian traditions that could be preformed here too, before we leave for Novrandt? It could help the court... prepare... for the ceremonies in Eorzia. Assuming of course, both of your Royal Highnesses assent?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn With distance between them again Elise watched the warlord with her eyes just taking in his body language, she was certain there would be no more violence at least for today. The warmth of his hand still radiated from her own and even though he had pulled back she could still feel the touch lingering and for a brief moment she wondered how gentle those hands could be. Especially as she had experienced the rougher side of him already. Could he even be gentle? Hesitant to think on it any longer she glanced over as he returned to his seat and she was quite glad of the fact that she had left her room even if it had been against his orders. It meant they had gotten their conflict resolved even if her pride was slightly bruised for having to approach him. At least she had gotten an apology out of it, one that she honestly didn't think she would get. "How long do you expect for the final treaty to be drawn?" It wasn't surprising the planning had been left to her father's council, the Eorzians loved to plan a big event and a huge wedding was no different. Any excuse to gather people around and show off their wealth, their ability to appease most in court and act as if they weren't in any sort of war was mesmerising in its own way. It was kind of relaxing to know the ceremony would be held in her hometown land, not that she could be calling it home for much longer not when this was soon to be where she'd spend her days for eternity. Looking up as Manawyndan joined in the conversation offering his own opinions she raised her brow at the idea, wedding traditions was something she had been taught about from a young age. Eorzia loved its traditions, upholding them and parading about the women like they were some prize to be captured. Making them perform like animals being watched by onlookers who were sizing them up. Shaking her head in amusement as she remembered one of its favoured traditions, she looked towards the two men before her and smiled. Never had she had to take part in the bridal hunt even when it came to other people's weddings as it was just improper to have the Princess roaming about the forest full of men. Wondering on if her father would insist upon the tradition, she kept that piece of information to herself thinking that her father would probably not bother with it. "I think it's quite a favourable idea, it would certainly allow for more opportunities to get to know one another as well as the people around. If it is agreeable with yourself, I would be happy to oblige." Elise stated simply as she folded her arms, wedding traditions couldn't hurt there was an Eorzian custom she could uphold hopefully when in her own Kingdom. "Eorzian culture has a few traditions one of them being customary for the bride to showcase a talent. To present herself to her husband with a skill she can bring to the table. If that is something that interests you I can prepare myself for it." Hopefully I don't make a fool of myself, I wonder what kind of traditions the Formori uphold when it comes to this.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise had caught sight of the fact his hand had reached for his sword, but she was glad he realised she was not going to cause him harm and that she wasn't a threat to him. Firstly, it was absurd to think she would just outright attack him like that, secondly, he could easily overpower her being a warrior from the war and thirdly, well they had just come to an agreement had they not? Her eyes still focused on the glass, now a flicker of doubt seeping through in case she had been wrong and maybe she had seen nothing. Maybe it was simply just a hope of hers that it was poison and maybe now she had just made a complete an utter fool of herself in front of him and his council. It could have been her subconscious trying to find ways to stop this wedding that she had just now agreed too. It took all her effort to conceal her tremble, the fear that the rage of his was about to be directed to her and without nothing her hand went to her throat still feeling his lingering fingertips against the skin that had recently healed from their spat. Though as the guards burst through the door's swords in hand her own hand dropped back to her side keeping silent as Ozragad began to bark orders to everyone. Wasting no time, the soldiers followed his orders scurrying off and she glanced towards Manwyndan as he spoke hearing the snap of Ozragads as he begged a private word which meant out of her earshot. What does it matter, they attacked the King. There was no way they could know I was here. Although it begs to question Manawyndan turned down the offer of a drink. Is there even a possible chance that he? For a moment she looked lost in thought contemplating the fact that there could very well be more at work here and as the council had said all might not be as it seems. It was then she felt her own rage, anger that he assumed it was an Eorzian plot of some sort? Snorting loudly, she turned her head up at the idea this had anything to do with her or her people, "I suppose I should take that as a compliment that you think I or my people could have had something to do with this." Elise knew she should have kept it to herself, but she was internally seething that he had insinuated an Eorzian ploy could be at hand here when she barely had time to worry about her sleeping pattern to even think about killing the King. "Considering the fact, you all see me as some ignorant child I have been under supervision ever since I stepped foot in this castle. The ladies aren't my own and don't think me naive enough to think they haven't been whispering in your ears about my movements here or reporting back to you both. Lastly I have been confined to my rooms and the few Eorzian people that accompanied me here have not set foot out of my wing." Hissing out her words as she folded her arms to stop herself from shaking, between the fear of an actual assassination attempt and the annoyance she felt of being remotely accused of this a part of her hoped she had been wrong and that she had seen nothing in the wine. Swallowing hard she glanced at the cup on the table wincing as Ozragad picked it up seeing the savage gleam in his eye as he clearly had an idea on what to do with it. By now the servant was being dragged back in here and she watched the cruel King show just who was in power here. The weak attempts as the servant fought were pitiful and she wondered if that was how she had looked in the moments of their fight. Elise wanted to tear her eyes away, but she had to watch this, she had to know if it truly was poison that been in that cup. Maybe I was wrong. What's worse, being right and knowing an attempt was made or looking like a fool to my future husband. It was a question she couldn't answer, and she watched as silence fell over the room the servant now being forced to drink the wine. She was certain she could hear her heart hammering away, the soft thuds in her head as she waited. It seemed like the longest couple of minutes and just as she was about to berate herself for overreacting, she could see the servants body start to convulse as the poison now bled into his system. Coughs and splutters could be heard as he started to foam from the lips chocking on his own spit and you could hear the laboured breaths fill the room that was feeling more warmer than it had moments ago and Elise was unable to tear her eyes away from the dying man.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth By the time the man's convulsions had ceased beneath him, Ozragad's head had began to clear once more. The red mist lifted from his eyes and he saw the scene before him. A dead man on the floor, the Princess and Manawyndan standing shocked above him, a cluster of guards and courtiers nervously peering through the open doors. There was blood on his hand and cuff from when the servant had begun to wretch and splutter. He stared at it for a moment before he wiped it on the front of the dead man's tunic and rising to his feet. "Get this out of my sight." He wearily commanded the two guards who had brought the servant in moments before. "And then shut that door." They readily complied, dragging the dead man from the chamber, and then sealing them off once more from the curious and worried gaze of the court. Treachery and treason, in his own palace, he could scarcely believe it. He had thought he had put and end all of that after the regency of his youth, and he had marched against those who had conspired against his mother. Poison. It was the weapon of a coward. He despised that more than anything else. It shall not happen to me, I will not let it happen. They fear to face me, I shall hunt them down. The thought of what he would do when he found whoever was behind this reassured him for a moment, until his councillor spoke once more. "That was ill done." "Really? How?" The King shot Manawyndan a poisonous glance, but the Lord Steward did not back down. "That did not help us find who was responsible for this, he should have been taken and questioned. By the Gods, he might not have even known that he served you poison. But we can't find that out now, because you killed him." His tone was disobedient, bordering on insolence. But Ozragad could not find the rage in him again. He just felt tired. "Oh, just get out of here. Go do your job and find out who did this." Manawyndan stared back at him, and with a snort of derision marched out of the council chamber without a second look. Now he was alone with the Princess. The King went to say something but the words caught in this throat and withered there. What was he to say? Should he thank her? Should he apologise again? Should he beg for her forgiveness. Or should he ask her what his councillor advised him - is this your doing? He did not know. He didn't meet her gaze as he wearily walked back to his seat at the table, and slumped into it. Somewhere in all the action his grey streaked dark mane had come loose from the knot that had held it behind his head. Strands of hair hung down around Ozragad's face. Unselfconsciously, he reached up and removed the plain circle that rested on his head and set it on the table before him. He shook his hair loose, let it fall free. "I am sorry for my councillor. It is his job to be suspicious." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, as if he was in pain. "It seems... I may owe you a great deal. There is one question I have though... why? Why did you choose to save me? If I had died you might have been free of me, and this place, which you clearly both despise. So why did you save my life?"</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise had to hold back the bile in her stomach from watching the scene before her, as much as she wished she could look away she had to watch the reality. It only affirmed what she and Lady Cheldarine had spoken about and that enemies would be everywhere she turned, though she couldn't discern if this had been meant for her also it still left a foul taste in her mouth. Not once had she seen someone die in such a gruesome manner and seeing the serving boy die had resurfaced a repressed memory of her own. It took all her strength not to hurl her guts as the image of her dead younger brother crossed her mind, remembering how she had been defiant pushing past the guards and her elder brother to see what the commotion was. Instantly she had regretted the decision as for many nights after she had nightmares surrounding it and even to this day it came back to haunt her on occasion. To see her younger brother sprawled on the bed skin ghostly white, blue tinging his lips and fingers adorned by red blood splatters. Crimson stained sheets from the usual bright white they were. To remember the haunted look of horror on her young brothers face as her eyes looked over the wounds, a deep slice across his throat and smaller ones on his wrists and then feet. The younger Prince had bled out and no one had heard anything, no scream and no signs of fight meaning the coward that had done the deed had done so whilst the Prince slept deeply. It had later been found there was a sleeping aid in his drink so he wouldn't have stirred at the attack. So, caught up in her own whirlwind of horror Elise didn't pay any sort of attention to Ozragad and Manawyndans conversation until she heard the shut of the door leaving her alone with him. Panicked for a split second she whirled around to look at Ozragad as he returned to his seat at the table, silence forming between them as she couldn't find any sort of words to say and it seemed he couldn't either. Elise didn't dare move from the spot she was standing, using the table to keep herself steady fearing that her own legs would fail her and crumble beneath the pressure. A shaky breath escaped her lips, one that she didn't realise she had been holding as she slowly gained the courage to move back to her seat the whole way using the table to lean on as she lowered herself into the chair glad to have the support of the wood beneath her. "I understand." Clearing her throat to try and sound confident and not show how unsettled she had been from this incident; it had dredged up memories she wished to be kept buried. "I'll take it as a compliment that he thinks I could orchestrate such a thing under your watchful gaze." Trying to settle she knew the comfort she needed would not be gained here, but she was not looking forward to the nights to come knowing the nightmares would resurface and that was a vulnerability she wanted no one to know about. "Why? Why did you choose to save me?" Why had she saved him? Pausing as she thought on how to answer him because she didn't know herself, it could have been down to instinct. It could have been because she knew her survival depended on his own, or maybe she was warming to the idea of marriage. It could have even been because peace was sorely needed in their lands and the blood that had been spilled was more than enough to last a lifetime. "I don't know in all honesty." Elise folded her arms as her brow furrowed trying to piece together her own scattered thoughts, "Poison is cowardly." Muttering out her distaste for the substance until she found herself sighing again cringing at how he assumed she despised him and the palace. It wasn't true, she despised that her freedom had been taken, that her father had forced this on her which she had channelled through onto Ozragad when it wasn't his fault she had been put in this position. "I don't despise you or this place maybe some of your actions. It's actually beautiful here in its own way. I despise the fact my freedom was taken from me because I was born a certain gender. That as a woman you can't fight. If I had allowed you to drink that poison than you'd have died. Maybe I could have had a chance at my freedom, but that wouldn't be the case." Elise stopped for a moment placing her head in her hands on the table finally admitting to herself something she very much knew, and something Lady Cheldarine had also reminded her of as she was honest with him. "My life is very much in your hands, it's dependant on you being alive because you are the only thing stopping those that wish to tear me apart because of my heritage. I have a handful of men and they'd be crushed in a heartbeat leaving me to deal with whatever horrors my enemies wish me to live, I wouldn't be able to make it out of here and if by some miracle I did I would not be able to navigate your lands or go unrecognised for that matter." Lifting her head up slightly to meet his gaze she could feel her own mental exhaustion of this place creeping in. "We came to an agreement. I will uphold my side of it."</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn In the week that had passed Elise could safely say that a good night's rest had eluded her once again, unable to get more than a couple of hours at a time she struggled to remove the images from her mind as nights passed. Memories ranging from the past with her brother to the server Ozragad had forced to drink the poison both permanently stained into her mind. It felt like her hands would never be clean, blood staining them and no matter how much she scrubbed she couldn't remove the feeling of the warmth on her fingertips, the blood she had once touched. Even eating had become a chore for her as she found it hard to swallow anything solid and keep it down for a few hours before the haunting had resumed and the ability to keep food down whilst vivid imagery graced her mind became difficult. Elise had done her best to keep this a secret, not wanting any of it to go back to the King as she kept the simple façade of happiness. Whether or not her ladies had caught on to her nightmares and lack of eating they didn't make it known which she was thankful for, even if it was all starting to catch up again. Freedom to leave her section had now been granted, but she didn't roam far keeping to her rooms for the most part because the idea of leaving played about with her anxiety that someone was ready to strike her down. At times when she felt daring, she could be found in the library using the books to read as an escape and a good source of focus for her mind away from all the bloodshed. With her tired form and lack of energy she had even fallen asleep in one of the chairs in the library only to wake up at any little sound still on edge from the incident. Elise could feel the tension as the days passed, but things seemed to settle again and there was a buzz about the castle as Manawydan had started to prepare the great hunt that was a premarital tradition. After having kept to herself for most of the week she hadn't seen Ozragad from their last discussion where her vulnerable side had shown, it was a blessing because she didn't know what she would have to say to him. Not after the assassination attempt and that fact that she had and probably still was suspected to have had a hand in it. Elise couldn't blame them for the accusation or suspension for that matter because if she had been in their shoes, had she nearly been killed her first thought would go to the King wondering if he wanted her gone. Atarah had the good sense to plan a beautiful gown for the hunt, something of Formori culture to help gain favour with his people. It was another fine gown with a deep rich colour rather than the pale blues and purples she would wear back home, this gown had a golden lace and trim and she could feel Atarah having to tighten it up more than she usually would on other outfits. Thankfully the woman didn't even speak about it and had just gotten her ready for the day curling her hair and letting it fall down naturally as she wove in a golden circlet atop her head. Once dressed for the day Atarah handed her a fur trimmed shawl to keep her warm if the temperature had dropped as they would be outside for the hunt itself most of the day and she was pleased to know Atarah would be with her throughout to help with names and information to help with small talk. Already Elise felt tired, and the day had yet to begin, playing an act as if everything was okay took a lot of energy and with her lack of sleep, she knew she would have to be careful and not snap at those around her. It was why she had said to Treville to just watch her from afar because hearing his constant disappointment in her actions and how she should present herself would only infuriate her. They were all outside currently waiting for the King to arrive and Atarah had informed her of the horse she would be riding and was talking through the day with her only to stop as silence fell across everyone signalling his arrival. Following suit, she bowed alongside the others not even playing the game and daring to bow as little as she could get away with, no she was too tired to play and just bowed like she normally would not caring about it in the slightest. There were bigger priorities on her mind right now, the thought of staying alive amongst this pack of wolves that wouldn't hesitate to cut her down. You can do this, it's just another day. Another event and once it is over, I can return to the peace of my room. But… what if a stray arrow shoots me whilst out here?</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad caught sight of her as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The Princess was bowing deeply, much like his own subjects, surrounded by a knot of the ladies he had placed to serve (and spy on) her. He had half expected some kind of scene, a continuation of the game of mutual hostilities and disrespects their relationship had largely been up until this point. But there was none. Perhaps they were past all that now, with their new arrangement... and all else that had happened since. Strange, how he looked back on their bitter arguments with almost an element of fondness now. It felt like a different time, simpler, less dangerous. Less dangerous for you maybe. It was always dangerous for her, after all, it was you she was fighting with. You almost strangled her. Ozragad winced at the memory of her delicate throat under his hands. But it was true, she had always been in danger in Morganyth, from himself as well as others. He was still a danger to her, after all, it could still be her who had tried to kill him. She had plenty of motive. And what will you do then? As the crowd parted for him, Ozragad could see that the grooms and stable hands were bringing the horses up, ready for their riders to mount. There was an order of precedence to the whole thing, he would mount first, followed by next in precedence and so on and so on. The next highest ranked person here would be the Princess herself, being a fellow royal, albeit a foreign one. The King could see his own tall black stallion drawn up across the ward, but next to it there was another horse saddled and ready. He could tell from here that it was a magnificent creature. The palace stables at Cirith Anyr kept some of the finest horseflesh in all the country, even before he had needed to mount and outfit so many warriors for his armies. They bred for speed, rather than size, and he could see by its build it would fast. She was a filly still, just on the cusp of being considered a mare. Her coat was palomino, a pale cream, with flowing mane and tail of pure white. He did not know her by sight, but a horse so fine must have come from his personal collection, and there was only one person it could have been brought here for. This was a mount fit for a Princess. Normally he would have marched on past his bowing courtiers and got on horseback as quickly as possible in order to get the assembled court moving, Ozragad hated waiting. But now he paused at the foot of the stairs. This was supposed to be political theatre was it not? Then he would give them some theatre to talk about. He turned and walked to where the Princess still knelt, planting himself directly in front of her. He proffered a hand to her. "Your mount awaits you, Princess."</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Which one will attempt to cut me down? Elise couldn't help but think like that as she held the bow waiting to arise to her full height alongside the others. It would be easy to make it look like a riding accident. Maybe this hunt has been designed by the King himself to finally finish the deed. He hadn't hesitated in strangling her in the library a memory that often crossed her mind and she had scolded herself for not fighting as she used too, just letting herself go through the motions all to keep herself alive. It wasn't right, but then actively fighting him hadn't been the way to go either as she was certain he suspected her to have tried to poison him, which was absurd, especially if he knew the horrors she was currently facing when alone. Is it worth losing myself? Mulling over her inner thoughts she felt a pang in her stomach, a sharp pain reminding her of the missed breakfast that she couldn't bear to stomach left on the bedside in her room no doubt been cleaned away already. Something she knew she would have to fix as what was the point in playing this careful game to keep herself alive if she was just going to let herself waste away like this. Hiding the discomfort on her face she glanced up when a shadow cast over her form to see Ozragad himself had approached her, but what surprised her was the outstretched hand to her of all people. This is a show after all. Reminding herself of that fact quickly as she graced him with a smile taking his hand as she rose to her feet happy to not be in that position anymore as she felt the release of pressure from her stomach. There was no room for hesitation right now, not if they were trying to have a somewhat united front against their enemies that seemingly lurked everywhere within the shadows. "Your highness." Speaking softly as she began to follow towards the horses that had been brought out before them, her own eyes looking at the black steed that she assumed to be his finding her gaze caught by the white mare beside it saddled and ready to go knowing that was the creature she would be riding today. It was certainly beautiful and reminded her of her own horse back home that she highly doubted she would ever ride again, like his horse the one she had back home had been black and in her own Kingdom she couldn't remember ever seeing white mares and she knew she was excited to get to ride it. Grasping his hand, it was only then she became conscious that her own was ice cold in his, in fact her whole body in general was cold which she knew was down to the lack of sleep as often when this happened to her, she would just grow cold finding it hard to keep her warmth. It wouldn't have been an issue had he not offered his hand and she couldn't very well refuse it in front of all these people and embarrass him. It would only cause more of a commotion around their wedding and arrangement. Don't draw attention to it. "It seems like good weather for a hunt." Keeping the pleasant smile on her face as she walked acting as if nothing was the matter and not letting on to anyone there was anything wrong, she approached the horses letting her hand drop from his the moment it became acceptable and not odd to the eyes of others. After all everyone was watching them, and she would not give them reason to gossip. Taking the reigns from one of the servers she thanked them politely as she gently reached up stroking the horse and allowing it to take in her scent to accept her, but the horse didn't seem to be spooked by her at all which was a good sign. I still can't shake the feeling of another attack, what if they try again? It's so open out here. I don't exactly have anything to defend myself with and it would look awfully strange if I asked for it. Maybe even suspicious. Though she was facing an inner turmoil nothing gave any hint to it on her face as she glanced back to Ozragad waiting for him to mount his horse before she would get on her own for the hunt.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise busied herself with the beautiful horse she was about to ride, listening to all the people around her as chatter began to ensue from everyone now that Ozragad had mounted his horse. It started off a lot of movement around and she glanced towards one of her ladies who signalled for her to mount her own horse. As if forgetting for a moment she was here to be a part of this prewedding tradition she denied the help of one of the servers and got on the horse herself without need of help. Of course, she could ride, she had been taught when she was a young girl back in the palace to ride a horse and often, she found herself enjoying the freedom of it until her father ordered that no one was allowed to ride further than the castle grounds which restricted a lot of her movement. Glancing behind her once mounted she could see Treville who had readied himself on the horse watching her keenly as if waiting for someone to dare attack her. Everyone is on edge, I'm not surprised. Am I worried? No. Liar. Elise thought to herself as she gripped the reigns of her horse moving along with the crowd trying to ignore her earlier awkwardness when mentioning the weather to him. Caught in her own thoughts she missed the figure of her personal guard approaching her on horseback to lecture her. "My lady, you need to keep your wits about you. This is so open. So… dangerous. Why ever did you agree to such traditions?" A low hurried whisper could be heard from Treville as he acted like he was having a normal conversation with the Princess. "They want a show, this marriage is meant for peace is it not? This will only show that we have a united front amongst all our enemies and that we truly mean for this peace to work." Elise cut him down quickly as she shot him a glance frowning at him clearly telling him to keep his opinions to himself. "I… of course. I just do not wish to see harm befall you. Apologies your grace." Treville mumbled as he shook his head muttering his disapproval as he fell back on his horse leaving Elise alone once more to continue riding with the group. Her ladies were riding just behind her and Elise couldn't help but look out at the land, the people that were gathered for their union as she caught sight of all the guards ready and waiting for any sign of danger. It didn't ease her worries seeing them there, in fact she was still under the belief that she could be killed at any moment. Looking ahead as people began to fan out, she caught the Kings motion and obliged moving up beside him on her horse as she listened, inwardly cringing at how he had caught on and the choice was hers on whether she should be honest or not. "It should be no problem your highness, acting comes naturally to me." Speaking softly letting him know that no matter what she was feeling no other would see it or be able to catch onto it, she was here to play her part as promised. Sparing a glance around her ensuring no one was within earshot she decided to offer him a bit of truth to how she was, her ladies had glimpses and whether or not it was reported to him she didn't know. "I have not been myself since the incident, it brought back memories I thought long forgotten." Is there any harm in telling him the truth? "Lack of sleep feeds the paranoia; I can't say I feel completely safe. It would not be hard for an accident to happen in the open. A stray arrow to strike me down and end the alliance with blame solely being on an accident whilst hunting." Although she was discussing her fears of her impending death she did not flinch or let it show on her face, if anyone were to see it would only stir up rumours or conflicts and she was not about to let everyone know of such things. "Perhaps a truth for a truth? Would you care to tell me what is on your mind currently?" Elise posed the question to him, perhaps it would be a way for them to bond and start some sort of connection for their marriage. Would it really matter to know more about him? Perhaps it would make the marriage easier in the long run.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad listened as the Princess opened up to him. It... it had not been what had expecting. He had merely wanted reassurance that whatever it was that was troubling her was not going to get in the way of his planned piece of political propaganda. Instead she had bared her inner thoughts and fears to him. He did not know if he managed to keep the look of surprise from his face. But was it really so surprising, not her confiding in him, but that the stress and anxiety caused by the assassination attempt would be weighing heavily on her mind. So do you believe she is innocent now, or do you think this is just another ploy? And then that question she asked him, what was on his mind? When was the last time he divulged his private thoughts to anyone other than Manawyndan? And to you even trust him enough to do that anymore? When was the last time he had an honest conversation without all the powerplays, the politics, the deception? He honestly could not say. Not for many, many years. Probably not truly since Liveuta had left him. Ah there you go, tell her that, tell her your are thinking about another woman. A better woman. For a while they rode on in silence down the stony track, passing over a small brook that came tumbling down from the rocky hills above. The King mulled that question over in his mind again and again. Eventually he spoke, his voice still low, a bitter note to the words. "I am thinking about all the people I used to trust, and why they seem to be so few these days." A half truth, he was thinking about a particular person he once would have trusted with all his heart, and he knew exactly why she was gone. "This is by no means the first time someone has tried to kill me. I remember feeling so afraid the first time, I was only a child then, but it gets less the longer you keep surviving. I suppose you get used to it, in time." He cleared his throat and craned his neck to observe what the rest of the party was doing as they spoke. Lord Iria jested with an annoyed looking Lord Urathon, whilst Manawyndan watched the King and the Princess like a hawk from nearby. Lady Cheladrine seemed to be arguing with her eldest, Elethiomel. Her younger son was bothering the irate Captain Rhiathon, who in turn scanned the horizon for the outriders she had sent ahead to scout their path. "Was that your first brush with death, Princess? Or have you tasted it before?" He turned his golden gaze back towards her. He found suddenly that he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to trust someone else.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Was it wise to tell him my fears? Though Elise doubted he was so willing to have her dead, there had been a moment when he could have done it and drained the life from her when he had his hands around her throat, but yet he had stopped. It's just because he needs the lands I provide. For his people to survive, nothing more. But yet it had felt right to tell him the truth of what was on her mind, there was only so much she could hide and considering it was starting to now show physically it was becoming more difficult to conceal it. As the silence fell between them, she couldn't help but wonder what her future really had in store here, was she forever going to be counting each day she lived waiting for the moment of her own demise. Perhaps I was a fool to offer him that branch, a stem of truth for one of his own. Keeping her eyes in front of her as they rode on, until she finally heard his reply letting her in on his own thoughts. "I think it comes hand in hand with being a King, not knowing who you can really trust." Frowning for a moment as he continued on about how it was not the first time someone had tried to kill him, she wasn't really surprised it was natural for Royals to have high bounties on their heads to the power hungry or rebellious people, but it didn't make it any easier about hearing it. "That's awfully sad, to know you get used to something like that in time, having a target on your back. Enduring it, surviving it. Even as a child. I'm not really surprised, it's only natural things like this happen and it was something I was taught as a child." Shaking her head slightly as she tried to remove the rather dark thoughts from her mind, that her life would always be surrounded by those she could not trust and those that would want to see her dead. Turning her gaze to the party that surrounded them as she used the silence again between them to see what the others were doing, Treville and his own men weren't too far from her just watching out and not engaging in any conversations with any of the Formori. There were her ladies who looked to be in deep discussion with themselves and it didn't look to be important, but she caught their smiles and laughter between one another, and she felt a pang in her heart missing that kind of feeling. To be able to laugh and joke with someone she could consider a friend, the closest she had achieved to that so far was Lady Cheldarine, but again was that a woman she could trust? Hearing his next question, her body stiffened as she gripped the reigns harder, a question she had never expected from him nor did she expect to have the need to ever answer such a thing. Subconsciously without even realising her fingers brushed against the fabric on her right wrist, a scar that was and had always been perfectly hidden by her dresses. Meeting his golden gaze with her own bright blue eyes she kept the silence between them for a few more moments before she finally opened her mouth to speak, "This is… the second time." What harm can he do with my past? "That's not to say I haven't seen plenty of death, there is more than I can count on that front, but personally. This is the second time I have feared for my own life." As much as she knew the death of her younger brother had affected her it was clear she was not the target, Athos had been and a part of her even suspected her own brother had hired the assassin just to secure his line to the throne. Sighing to herself as her eyes were downcast now having finally made up her mind to tell him a story of her past, one that went hand in hand with her nightmares of her younger brother. After all getting to know each other would make things easier for them and maybe one day she'd feel like she could trust him. "I was only thirteen at the time, and I guess it was partly my own fault for wandering off too far from my escort, but it proved to be the perfect opportunity for these rebels to steal me away and demand a handsome ransom to the King… except the ransom was too high a price that my father was willing to pay and tradition in Eorzia always meant I'd never inherit the throne, so I was somewhat expendable. Especially when he had two healthy sons." Trailing off for a moment as she knew he would catch her drift without needing to delve too much into the nitty gritty of the story. "After a day or so they learned I would not fetch them the coin they desired the only option they felt they had left was to try and kill me and run from the evidence." Narrowing her eyes as she tried not to recall the memory knowing it was yet something else she had chosen to burry deep in her mind, to not feel that fear she had when she was a child but with it being a part of her nightmares it was hard to forget. "Perhaps they had a sense of guilt or did not want to watch me die because of my age but they opted to slit my wrist and let me bleed out. I might have been dead in minutes if they had cut the right place, and maybe it was luck, because they had missed it by an inch." This time her gaze sought out Treville, her eyes falling on him for a moment before she turned back to face Ozragad finishing her little tale. "Treville was quite young back then, but it was how he was promoted quickly within our ranks as he had found me hours later abandoned by the rebels. I had lost a fair amount of blood by that point, not enough to kill me. But enough for me to fear I'd die." It had been more than enough to scare her though, especially at her age having to go through an ordeal like that and her father had clearly felt some guilt from it after because he had practically given her everything she wanted. "Have you ever felt that before? Life slipping away from you without having the power to stop it yourself?" She found herself looking back at him intently, feeling slightly vulnerable for sharing something of her past that not many knew about her bar the Royal Family.</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise continued to ride on the white mare and for some strange reason she felt a slither of relief after having told her tale, not once had she voiced it to anyone before partly because her father had forbidden it and in truth, she never wanted to relive that moment again. Now, she felt an odd sensation almost like it had been freeing even with having told Ozragad of all people. This hidden secret of her past. If her father knew she had told their enemy of all people he would go mental, probably as he would assume it exposed a weakness that he could take advantage of. Is he my enemy though? Even with the peace treaty she knew how her father thought, and she wouldn't be surprised for one moment if he was already finding loopholes to bring this country down. Brutal honesty also told her that it didn't matter if she was his wife or not, she would go down with the Kingdom alongside him. It's a start between us, I guess. I don't know what possessed me to tell him. I've never… Frowning to herself as her eyes focused on her wrist, the fabric hiding the scar that she knew was there beneath it. "I've never told anyone about it, and I'm sure you can understand why it's not been broadcasted before. I just ask you respect that and keep it to yourself." Her voice was soft, no hint of her usual stubborn self as she had shared something quite intimate and even though she was to marry this man he will still a stranger to her. I don't need anyone's pity on the past. Nodding along as she listened to him talk about the wounds he had received on the battlefield, how the adrenaline fuelled him she couldn't help but wonder if anything did scare him. Had there ever been a moment in his life he truly feared for something? I can't ask something like that. It was only then did her eyes widen slightly as he admitted to know of the same feeling she had experienced, life slipping away without having any sort of power to stop it. Whether directly or not she couldn't quite tell as he didn't go into it, maybe he would another day as after all this wasn't the conversation, she had expected to have with him. Elise had just expected to exchange small pleasantries, wait for the Hunt to be over and return back to her room as if it was any other day here. No in depth talks or getting to know one another like it had turned out to be. The silence was almost deafening as she glanced to the sky to see the hawks crying over them and she took the chance to look at the lands before her. They were beautiful in its own sense and she found herself comparing it to Eorzia and what her home was like, but she had to remind herself that it was no longer her home. Not when her life was to be here now. They still had meadow grass here and although when she had first approached the city it was in some sort of cave it still had some green land. Not much from what she had seen so far, but enough for wildlife to live inside. That is probably why lands were a big part of the deal. Meeting his gaze as she looked back towards him a wave of confusion crossed her face, why was he sorry? It wasn't like he had specifically ordered the rebels to do such a thing, and then there was her father who hadn't done anything to help her at that age which to her was just as bad. None the less, the apology from him had stirred an emotion inside and she wasn't sure what it was exactly. "No… I." Hesitating for a moment as she glanced away her fingers gripping the reigns of her horse painfully tight, "It means more than you realise, to offer sincere words like you have. Thank you." As Elise spoke her chest tightened as she tried to process what she was feeling in the valley, rather than make an effort to figure it out she put whatever it was down to not feeling one hundred percent and that it was having an effect on her rationale side. At a loss for anymore words she offered Ozragad a warm smile before he raced down to the encampment, keeping the horse at her own steady pace she continued on just watching his retreating figure finding that she wanted to know more about him.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- Art by Chris Hull --- --- There was still a thin line of mist hanging above the opposite shore of the lake when Ozragad arrived at the camp. The low hillock it was situated upon gave a good view of the dark blue waters, the distant forests, and the hills and mountains that rose above them all. The chill was dissipating from the late morning air, as more and more sun broke threw the patches of cloud to bathe the land beneath in their rays. Perhaps the Princess right after all, he mused to himself as he surveyed the horizon, it is good weather for a hunt. The top of the hillock was taken up by a pair of large canvas pavilions, between them there had been erected a wooden platform covered by an awning. The rest of the camp of lesser pavilions and common tents had been arranged around these, leaving a clear central avenue the dais looked down onto. They would be hunting all day, or gods forbid, multiple days, and therefore there was a good chance they would be spending the night here. Ozragad did not mind particularly, he was more than used to living on the march, it was the theatre of it all that grated at him. He did not appreciate an audience to his leisure time. For some reason the King found himself thinking about her again, did she hate the artifice of all this as much he did? Or was she inured to such things from her time in Eozia? Had she ever slept beneath the open sky? Had she ever hunted into mountains and forests such as these? She was a strange creature to him. In some small ways Ozragad supposed they were similar, their royal upbringing, their fiery tempers and fierce wills, their own share of traumas. Though at the same time, they were profoundly different, their race, their gender, their age, the very lives they had led. How was it then she had been able to pierce him so with a simple question? And somehow dredge her up from the depths of his soul. Livueta. "You're staring." The voice made him jump. It was Manawyndan, he could tell just from the dry rasp of the old Formori's throat, but he had not heard him approach. Never forget, he is a spymaster, he knows those subtle arts better than you. "I was thinking actually." "About what exactly, sire?" The councillor raised an eyebrow he query. "Nothing, nothing that matters at least. Shall we get on with this?" There might have been a time he would have devulged his thoughts to Manawyndan, but that time seemed to have passed. After all, someone was trying to kill him. Manawyndan certainly had means... but did he have motive? Either way he should trust no one. And yet you are busy taking the Eorzian child into your confidences. He turned his back on the lake and strode to the wooden dais erected between the two royal tents. The majority of the courtiers were milling around in the camp, the servants hard at work preparing the tents for their masters, the guards either at their stations or patrolling the outer edge of the camp. On the wooden stage were a number of Ozragad's inner circle, his two other present councillors, Lords Iria and Urathon, Lady Cheldarine and her family. "Lord Iria will make the announcement, if it pleases Your Majesty." Manawyndan again, slipping in beside him, whispering to him what would happen. How had he once been comforted by this man's ever-present presence? Now he thought about, was there not something sinister about a councillor who was too useful, too indispensable? "Very well. Get on with it." Ozragad spoke brusquely with a dismissive wave of his hand. Iria turned to a herald standing at the edge of the platform, at his signal the long call of the hunting horn sounded once more.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but take in the beauty of the forest, the mist that shrouded it in mystery to her as she didn't know these lands and she took in every sight she could memorising it in her mind. It gave her some peace and comfort to be able to focus on something like this after having opened up about her past, allowing him inside the walls she had built up briefly. Was it just because she wanted to believe Lady Cheldarine in the fact he needed her by his side, or was it because a slither of trust would help build some sort of relationship between them making life easier in the long run. I should still be careful, perhaps one day there will come a point when I feel safe in these lands. Who knows when that will be? I can't allow myself to get comfortable. "Your highness?" Pulled out of her thoughts Elise turned to see Treville had approached from behind and she found herself frowning only thinking he had yet more wonderful advice for her that she didn't care to hear about. "I don't want to hear it, I know you are against this wedding tradition, but it's not about you. Nor I or even him. This is for the people to show a united front, how else do you expect to achieve peace from this?" "No, I have made my thoughts clear on that matter and I already know it falls on deaf ears where you are concerned." Treville bowed to Elise before rising once more his horse now alongside the others being fed. Offering out his hand to help Elise down from the stunning white mare, she had ridden on he cleared his throat. "I have just come to advise that I will keep an eye out and sweep the perimeter." "Do what you must." Sighing softly before she strode off away from him not even glancing back at his bowed form before he slipped off into the woods as the announcements were made. Trevilles priorities had always been keeping the Princess safe, even behind enemy lines he would put himself in front of a blade before it could reach her. The news of the assassination attempt did have him unsettled, although he couldn't be sure if it was meant solely for the King, he would keep his eyes and ears peeled out for oncoming danger. Something that could happen whilst out in such an open area for a hunt. Brushing herself down Elise was soon joined by her ladies and overseer of her household in Morganyth, Atarah, Ida and Flora all stood ready to serve her with bright smiles on their faces. Apparently, they were all very excited to be part of the hunt as if it was some big deal, which when Elise considered the thought it technically was with the sentiment behind it. Just to her it didn't mean anything other than helping their case for peace. "You remember Lord Iria, and that's Lord Urathon. Of course, Lady Cheldarine is someone you've met on multiple occasions now." Ida began whispering in the Princesses ear to remind her of all the notable members at court. "They'll make an announcement. Then the hunt will officially begin. Did you want to rest a while once it's begun? Or join in the festivities? Your tent is nearly ready." "I may just sit and watch a while first, enjoy the beautiful scenery before me." Without wanting to admit it Elise felt quite drained both physically and mentally already from the events and the idea of sitting down for a moment or two sounded quite appealing. "Of course, you should see the stars at night your highness, it's exquisite. I'll ensure we have a warm winters coat ready as the temperature drops at night." "That would be wonderful, thank you so much." Elise found herself smiling at her lady in waiting happy at the idea of being able to look up at the stars at night. It had been the first time she had ever been outside overnight, not counting her trip up here because she had been travelling. There had never been an opportunity for her to go out hunting as that wasn't what a lady did back home. Not that it stopped her from practicing how to handle a sword and a bow and arrow for that matter as she wasn't prepared to be as defenceless as she had been when she had been taken at a young age. Glancing up towards the dias as a silence swept over the people in attendance, she heard the hunting horn, and she felt her gaze fall onto Ozragad finding herself more curious about him with each new thing she learnt whilst here. Can I really trust him? Or will he be the one to kill me?</s>
<\|description\|>Elise Hydaelyn ~Princess of Eorzia~ //Basics: • Gender \| ♀ • Age \| 25 • Height \| 5'-4 • Weight \| 135 lbs • Ethnicity \| White • Hair Colour \| Blonde • Eye Colour \| Blue with hints of whiteish grey. //Piercings/Tattoos/Scars: • Scar \| Elise has a faded scar on her right wrist, although usually hidden as Elise has yet to show anyone this scar. Appearance Details: Elegant, carefree and rather cheerful, Elise although small can pack quite the punch and is not afraid to speak her mind. Elise's pale complexion contrasts her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair often falls in loose curls past her shoulder, preferring to wear her hair down she begrudgingly allows others to style it in up dos knowing it looks more presentable. Elise is often found in dresses of blues and purples, colours known to the Eorzian people. King Regis would only allow his daughter to wear such colours as he felt the bolder colours were garish and for the whores of the world. Character Synopsis: Elise is the only daughter to King Regis of Eorzia, he is a fine proud King and has managed to keep the stability of his country afloat even amidst a war. Elise has one older brother, Ravus who is due to inherit the throne imminently after the war has been settled as King Regis promise he would only step down if there was peace. Elizabeth her mother passed away when she was a teenager and something to this day she had not forgotten. It seemed like it had happened suddenly, one day her mother was there and then she was gone, but her brother had told her about her mothers ailing health and how the illness finally took her. Looking back on the time spent with her mother she noticed the little things that signalled to her health, something she had not seen at the time. Then there was the younger brother Athos, the pride and joy of Eorzia. The cheeky young Prince who could melt everyones heart, naive but he always meant well. It had been a huge blow to Eorzia when he was killed, Elise was only twenty but she never forgot what happened that night. Someone had wormed their way into his heart, gotten awfully close to the Prince and before anyone could stop the next events Athos had been killed and the assailant fled into the night. They had never been caught and it drove her father to insanity. King Regis the current monarch of Eorzia although speaks on wanting peace his true intention is to crush the Formori and rule the entire land. The King will do at nothing to see his plan through and is relying on the fact he still has his son Ravus to inherit the throne should anything backfire. Personality: Although Elise appears to be elegant and soft that is truly not the case, from the strict teachings of her father she knows how to command others. She is a strong believer in treat those how you wish to be treated and that everything happens for a reason. Elise is not afraid to speak up against others and fight for her beliefs, though often her mouth can get her into trouble with her sarcastic responses. _________________________________________________________________________________</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Catching him look away from her she kept her gaze on him watching his appearance, the way he held himself and she hated the idea that she was feeling more comfortable around him. It unsettled her the idea that she had opened up revealing something of her past that she had kept safely locked away in the back of her mind, but perhaps she had spoken it because she was feeling more comfortable around him and what was going to be her new home. I would love to know what he is truly thinking, about us. About the peace treaty, his people. Will we ever be truthful with one another or will we just simply coexist fulfilling the duties that we must. It was only when Lord Iria began to talk did she look away focusing now on the Lord that began the announcement to signify the start of the hunt. Finding herself smile as she watched the enthused Lord in full flow clearly enjoying the theatrics of this. Is that what I think of this? Some big theatrical farce to appease everyone. No… I don't think I quite think of it like that. Not anymore. Finding her smile grow as she listened, eyes shinning with delight at the small joke made she had forgotten her earlier concerns as everyone around seemed to be just as captivated with the Lord and listening to his speech. It was almost like the calm before the storm, everyone seemed to be in a joyous mood about this hunt and it was then Elise felt like she should enjoy herself too. The idea of sleeping under the stars, enjoying the freedom of the outdoors was something she knew she could get behind. Sadly, with the assassination attempt and the tensions that could be felt she knew she still had to be on guard, but she could do both. Enjoy herself and keep an eye out for potential danger. I wonder what beast the King will slay for me. Turning her gaze back to the King, wondering if he was going to put effort into it, care about slaying some magnificent creature to prove his worth. It wouldn't surprise her if he wasn't about to go to such lengths, but she found herself wanting his attention. His effort in sourcing something great like a King would for her. Who wouldn't want that, it's natural? As if trying to justify her own thoughts that anyone in her situation would still want the best. I know I would want to give it my all, I plan too with the performance… Elise found herself pausing at her own thoughts not wanting to admit the truth behind the other wedding tradition of the bride performing for the groom. That she wanted to do something that would grab his attention, that he would like, and she could feel those inner thoughts lingering embarrassing her as a pink hue graced her cheeks. Pushing the thoughts down as she tried to focus once more on Ozragad speaking, announcing his champions that would follow him glancing around at the pause as she could hear whispers across the crowd. As he announced the last member to his party cheers erupted and Elise followed the crown applauding with a smile not really caring for who was in his party until she realised it meant Manawyndan was staying behind at the camp. For some reason it didn't sit right with her, but she found herself wary around him especially after he had insinuated that she could have had a hand in the attempt on the Kings life. If he knew of the horrors, she faced each night, the nightmares and anxiety that followed no one would question her. With the champions now set Elise turned to face her ladies who showed her towards her tent that had now been fully set up and ready to host her. There was no doubt in her mind that a bit of rest would be perfect.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Ozragad had somehow managed to avoid conversing with Manadwyndan or any of his other councillors until he was atop his great black stallion once more and riding out along the lakeshore to the hunting grounds. Then there was no escaping Lord Urathon or Captain Rhiathon, two of his three hunting companions. Other than that, they rode with a small group of guards, some huntsmen to handle the tracking dogs, and finally Elethiomel, Ozragad's kinsman and spur of the moment replacement for his planned third hunting companion, Manawyndan. Had he overreacted in his anger and distrust of his councillor? Now that he was getting from the crowd and his temper was beginning to cool he felt somewhat foolish. How could Manawyndan, an old man, hope to harm in any way when he was alongside his loyal guardsmen and fellow councillors? Worse he had dragged a mere child into the middle of whatever scheme might be swirling around him. When has harming innocents ever stopped you from doing whatever you liked before? Do not think you have changed so much, or that you care any more just because he is of your blood. From behind, he heard the approaching hooves of two more horses, drawing nearer to him. Ozragad glanced behind to see his companions approaching him, Lord Urathon and Captain Rhiathon. They both wore severe expressions on their faces. No doubt they wished to lecture him about his sudden exclusion of Manawyndan. Urathon was the elder of the two, though not as old as Manawyndan or even Ozragad himself, his Lord Justicar, overseer of the Formori's laws and his courts. He was a serious man, with a habitually grave visage. He gave the appearance of orderly man, hair always pulled back, goatee always neatly trimmed. But Ozragad knew he was at home in the field, for hunting was one of his few passions, that and his young wife back at their camp. "Your Majesty, if we ma-" Urathon began, Rhiathon cut across him. Where Urathon was a sober and orderly man, Riathon had a warrior's heart. Her head was shaved of all hair, her arm as strong as any man's, Ozragad could not remember the last time he saw her out of armour. She had a fiery temper too, one that reminded him all too much of his own. But that was one of the reasons Ozragad had her as captain of his guard, she had little respect for anyone other than him and always acted without delay, she would never hesitate when it came to defending him. "Sire, the hunt has been extensively planned to ensure your safety, I would greatly appreciate it if you would consult with me before making any further changes to our security arrangements." "Noted, captain." He could feel a slight turn to his lip. Notice no reproach in her voice about Manawyndan, just that he had done so without consulting his guard captain first. There was no love lost between Rhiathon and Manawyndan, they were very different people, and had often clashed at his war councils. "Yes," Urathon tried to continue for where he had been interrupting. "But is it truly wise to exclude Lord Manawyndan considering t-" "What's done is done, Urathon. I will hear no more of this. Now, can we please focus on the task at hand? Hunting. The King spoke in a tone that brook no argument. He put his fingers to his lips and blew hard against them, emitting a shrieking whistle. "Elethiomel! Get up here boy!" With more than just a little trepidation the youth lashed his reins and brought his horse up to ride alongside the rest of the hunting companions. Ozragad had though of him as a child earlier, but he could see now that wasn't strictly true. His cousin's son was young, but was on the cusp of manhood now. He looked like Cheldarine too, with a heart shaped face and long auburn hair worn loose, though his was silk smooth where his cousin's was curled and coiled. "Y-you summoned me, Your Majesty?" There was tremble to his voice, in fact he seemed nervous to even be there. Well, it was hardly surprising considering the circumstances were rather unexpected. Still Ozragad his not remember his kinsman to be of a timid temperament, as far as he recalled he had been a headstrong boy, though he had not seen him a few years. "We are planning our strategy for today. Do you hunt much, up at the Ergyng estates? It was good land for coursing as far as I remember." His features relaxed and the tension went out of his body as the conversation turned towards the matter of hunting. He must have realised that he had been caught in some form of political quagmire, Ozragad thought. "Yes, sire, I am fair hunter, particularly with the bow. No doubt anywhere near as experienced as yourself, sire, or your lord and ladyship." "Urathon is fine tracker and rider. Captain Rhiathon has a good spear arm, but little else." "You wound me, sire, though my hunting skills are not my primary asset. I am here to ensure Your Majesty may hunt in peace. Ozragad thought there was little chance of that even if there was no attempt on his life today. "Well, we are all here. I think those woods up ahead look as likely spot as any to start. Loose the dogs and see if we can pick up a scent." The Hunt had begun.</s>	<\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn "Is it to your liking?" "Oh… It's, uh fine." Elise trailed off as she glanced towards the beautiful tent that had been erected for her, it was adorned in beautiful colours and wonderous silks. The extravagance screamed of royalty, and it was the first time she had seen such a thing because she had never slept out among the stars and had always been inside a palace or under a roof. "Sorry, it looks beautiful. This is the first time I've ever camped? Is that the word I'm looking for?" Pondering the thought as she questioned her ladies that had followed her along with smiles on their faces. "I'm not surprised personally." Atarah mused with a rather knowing smile, the overseer of the Princesses household whilst in Morganyth. The older woman was holding a few soft blankets in her arm ready to store inside the tent as it could get cold of a night, and she wouldn't want the Princess to be uncomfortable. "You haven't really travelled much if I recall correctly." "Indeed, my first-time travelling had been to come here." Elise smiled slightly realising she had been quite sheltered back at home, contained between the palace walls and even then, visits to the town had been scarce or with a huge amount of escort it was hardly enjoyable. Staying in Morganyth itself was a whole new experience and even now she was getting to stay outside the palace with the tradition of the hunt which was oddly exciting to her. Thrilling to be outside, but she did feel very exposed but perhaps that was partly to do with her little experience in exploring. "Well maybe when things all settle down and people come round to the idea of this treaty, I'm certain you'll be able to explore more. Perhaps even before then you could always ask his majesty if you'd like to see more." Atarah shrugged, whether or not he would agree to such a thing was a different story, but she doubted the Princess would even ask in the first place. "Oh no, it's okay. I don't want to be a bother." Taking a few steps into the tent she could see a few plush chairs all set up ready for her to relax in, glancing back she could see everyone else was happy to be focusing on what they were doing, and no one looked like they wanted to approach her so she would take the opportunity to get some rest away from prying eyes and expectant looks. Another reason Elise wouldn't bother asking was simply because they had only just started talking in a more civil way with one another, who knew how long that would last when both of them seemed to have a temper. "I've brought some food M'Lady and Flora has some fresh water." Ida bowed upon entry of the tent and placed a platter of fruit onto the table just as Flora sauntered in with a jug of water and a cup for the Princess. "Thank you." Elise smiled politely to the ladies that had all ensured her needs were met, as a household went, they weren't bad at all. Though she wouldn't trust them with her secrets or confide in them, they had all been welcoming and tried to assist her and not once did she sense any ill intent from them. "Although, I might take this opportunity to get some rest whilst I'm not needed." "Of course, the girls will keep watch outside and if you need me, I will be helping ensure the other households are all set up to expectations and smooth over any issues that occur." Atarah nodded as she clapped her hands to the girls who were both up and ready to leave, "Perfect opportunity to get some reading in the sunshine before they return." All three women bowed respectfully to Elise before exiting the tent leaving her to fulfil her wish to rest in peace. They had supplied food and drink and comfort so not much else would be needed, not at least until the King returned but that was all dependant on what he managed to hunt.</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine followed her host to the cushioned divans that were tastefully arranged around the hearth of the Princess's receiving room in the Silver Tower. She waited for Elise to take a seat before she herself settled down opposite her on the other side of fireplace, neatly gathering her skirts as she did so. The Formori woman listened to the Princess's response with her head cocked to the side. A ghost of smile played across her lips. "Well it certainly seems to have caused yourself some trouble, your Highness. I know my cousin is not an easy man to get along with, he is as you said, stubborn. Perhaps if you told me what happened exactly I could be some assistance in repairing this rift between you? After all, I do know him better than most." At that moment there was a flicker of an idea in the eyes of Lady Cheldarine. She turned to the Formori serving woman who had been discretely attending them from the back of the room and smiled wide at her. "I am however, somewhat parched this morning. Such a long way up to the palace, and so many stairs! Seems silly considering its all still underground, doesn't it? You wouldn't be dear and fetch us some tea would you?" The servant glanced over to Princess Elise as if searching for a counterorder, before bobbing her head obediently and disappearing out of the room. When they were alone Lady Cheldarine turned back to the Princess, holding one finger up. "A moment please." She stood and briskly walked over the door, placing her ear flat against it and listening for a few moments before seeming being satisfied by what she did or did not hear. She then walked over to one of the internal walls of the tower, lined with dark wooden panelling. With one finger she tapped on each of panels, listening as she did so. At the fifth panel she stopped and listened longer more intently than she had at the others, lingering for half a minute. Eventually she was again satisfied by what she heard, it was only then that the Lady turned back to the Princess and returned to her seat by the fire. "Well that makes me feel better, it appears Manawyndan is not currently up to his old tricks. Walls do have ears in this palace I'm afraid. Still, no unwanted eavesdroppers at the moment." She let out her soft husky laugh. "Now tell me, why has my cousin locked you up in here?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…" Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood." Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries." Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them. "So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms." Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Lady Cheldarine let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second. "Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one." She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory. "He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise felt herself hesitate as Lady Cheldarine caught on, she never expected the woman to take note and realise that her cousin had been a little rough handed with her. Not that it should matter, but Elise didn't what to voice the fact he had been rough with her as she didn't want to appear like some weak little girl. "Wooing me? Please I doubt he would even know how to woo someone nowadays." Sighing softly to herself as she could never imagine this King even start to woo a lady and court them, not that she even wanted it to happen herself. It was strange hosting this woman, she showed no outward signs of wanting to cause her harm which was refreshing but she still found it hard to trust even though Lady Cheldarine was quite easy to talk too. Elise knew she was merely overthinking everything, but it was hard when even her family didn't seem to care too much about her as their letters spoke of the promise to her brother and this wedding. Not one hint of if she was okay. Watching as the other woman reached the window, she found herself furrowing her brow as the question was posed to her, something that had crossed her mind her mind briefly, but it passed by without a second thought. "Well… I had considered it, but I guess I just assumed he was pressured for it by the council." "I'll be brutally honest, my own family and myself included expected this to be a trap and well too good to be true. My father originally threw the offer out to appease the court back home, not for it to be accepted." Leaning forward on her seat as she watched Lady Cheldarine curious to why Ozragad had pursued peace, "Tell me then, why is he pursuing the option of peace? As you say peace doesn't really suit him, not when stories of this fearsome warlord proceeds him."</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "It is as I said, he is not as strong as he seems." Lady Cheldarine sighed and let the curtain she had been holding fall back into place. As she turned back towards Princess Elise a shadow pasted over her face. A look of pain, of sorrow. The look of person remembering something they would much rather forget. "This war, it has destroyed almost everything it touches, and that is true of both your county and mine. But Eorzia is larger and richer, and the land here... well you must have seen it on your journey to the capital. Every Formori fighting is another one taken from the fields. Every fighter that falls in battle needs to be replaced." That expression lingered there across her features once again. From the sleeve of her dress, she drew out a small square of white silk and used it to dab the corner of her amber eyes. She did not fully loose her composure, but it was clear enough that something was clearly affecting her. "My own husband... well, it is common enough story for citizens of both our lands." The handkerchief disappeared once more into whatever secret pocket it had been drawn from. That pained look too disappeared, but away into the other secret pocket all people possess, the one in which they hide the contents of their heart. "But the point is that there are fewer and fewer to work the land, and the land was poor to begin with. Three of our last five harvests have been marred by Ashfall. Without a proper harvest this year, Morganyth will starve. If there is peace then the soldiers can home, they can work the fields, they can get the harvest in." On the journey from Eorzia they had indeed past innumerable empty and barren fields, left fallow once they had entered Morganyth territory. There had been fewer signs of this poverty and privation in the palace where Elise had been staying, but the feast she had attend had indeed been meaner than those in Eorzia. There was often a lack of common foods, such as soft fruits or fresh vegetables. Even the portions of the Formori were mostly smaller than those of the Eorzians. "So you see the dilemma that faces the King? He must have peace before the harvest. Either he risks everything, on one last desperate assault against your family and your Kingdom in order to crush you completely before the autumn, or he negotiates. Now my cousin can be a fool at times, but he is not completely reckless." She walked back towards the Princess and seated herself back down upon the cushions there once more. Her face was grave, she was deadly seriously. "He needs you. He needs the lands and the peace your marriage brings in order to rebuild his country, in order to salvage something from this mess of a war. It is either that or risk defeat and ruination on scale he has thus far avoided. I tell you this not for the love of my country or my people or for the sake of my cousin. I tell you this because I need you to make this marriage work too. I need you to save my sons from this war, because it is they who will be fighting it next if this peace does not work." There was now a desperate edge to her voice. "And it may not seem this way to you now, not after what he has done you. But now you are in Morganyth, you need him. You need Ozragad. My cousin can behave like a monster at times. But he is nothing compared to some of the men who once followed him and oppose the peace now. Men like Zakylwe Ahoraa."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Zakylwe is a leader amongst the Ashlanders, those of my people that make their home in the furthest east, upon the ashen waste. They are a hardy people, they must be to survive, and Zakylwe is hardest of them there is. During the early years of the war he was King Ozragad's most fervent supporter and one of his most trusted generals. And he always argued the course of needless cruelty, death and destruction. You can be sure that when the King burned Novrandt to the ground rather than yield it back to your ancestors, it was at Zakylwe's urging. He would rather destroy something than see his enemy possess it. That is the sort of man Zakylwe Ahorra is." Lady Cheldarine glanced at the door as she spoke, it had already been several minutes since she had send away the serving woman in pursuit of tea. They only had a limited amount of time until their conversation would be observed by Ozragad's spies once again, and it was clearly running out. "I am glad you are willing to try to make the peace between our people's work, your Highness, but I need you to understand the danger you are in should it fail. Zakylwe and other malcontents are moving in secret against the King as we speak. Some of them are Formori of great power and influence. If the King falls and they take power instead... well, I don't think I have to make it clear what they might do to someone like you." The conversation ended with a pregnant pause then, giving them both time to mull over the things that had been left unspoken in the silence. A draught stole into the quiet room, made the flames behind the grate flicker, and had the Lady clutch her shawl tighter about her shoulder's. When she resumed speaking, she did so in a warmer and reassuring tone almost as if in an effort to banish those cold and grim throughts. "But, I am sure it won't come to that. The King will deal with it in time. I imagine my cousin would like to go cut the head off of the snake and put an end to Zakylwe right now. But there is protocol and custom even King's must follow. Formori's abhor kinslaying above all other crimes, our children are few and precious, so to kill a family member is the highest taboo. I myself am protected somewhat from the wrath of the King because we are kin. The same is true with Zakylwe." She frowned a little then as she spoke, as if she was questioning the wisdom of what she was saying even as the words passed her lips. "He is the King's brother-in-law, his sister was Ozragad's first wife."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise fell quiet again as she listened intently to what Laldy Cheldarine was telling her. This Zawylwe sounded like quite a dangerous person as she let her speak eager to learn about this country and its people even if they were out to harm her. "Sounds more like a beast than a man." Unable to stop the words that left her mouth, eyes widened as she placed her hand over them embarrassed that she had allowed herself to speak before she had even thought it through. "Sorry… I really must learn to think before I speak. Not my strong point." Looking over to the door as she watched the other glance to it, she frowned knowing time must be running short, but she still had so many questions to ask and who knew when she would get a chance to speak with Lady Cheldarine in private again. The words left an uncomfortable silence as it was revealed just how much danger she would be in if this failed, her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she could not help the dark thoughts cross it as she thought gravely on what they might do to someone like her. It sent a shiver down her spine and she could say she was honestly fearful for what could happen to her here. It had been a surprise at first knowing this had not been a trap, after all most had assured her, she was being sent to her own death, but now the threat felt more real. "R-Right… no, of course. Just hypothetical." Forcing a smile as she tried to pull herself away from the dark thoughts that had entered her mind. Nodding as the woman said it wouldn't come to that, perhaps it wouldn't and Ozragad would keep her safe especially if he was bound by the marriage treaty. It did guarantee her safety if she went through with it, if ill will happened on her death the war would continue, and nothing would change just a broken treaty to add to the reasons of their war. "What?" Elise couldn't stop the shock on her features, she never knew about the first wife and that alone sprung so many more questions. "Brother-in-law..." Hesitating as she looked at the door herself before snapping her head back to Lady Cheldarine, "What happened to her?" She had to know, not just because of her burning curiosity but for the fact it would probably help in her own survival here. If Lady Cheldarine wouldn't tell her would she even dare to ask King Ozragad? After a few of there interactions she knew how easily she could put her foot in it and asking about a first wife who she could assume was dead as she hadn't seen or heard of the woman before would certainly earn her more discomfort here.</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth A clear look of dawning realisation appeared upon the heart shaped face of Lady Cheldarine. Her hand rose up to cover her mouth as if to prevent the words she had just spoken, amber beaded bangles catching the light of the fire as she did so. But it was too late, the unspoken, deeply buried secret that lingered over the court of Cirith Anyr had been resurrected. Brought back to life by a careless word. "Oh... of course. You would know nothing of her. It was so long ago, before the war even. Her name was Liveuta. She died." There was a sudden crack from one of the burning logs in the hearth that spat sparks into the air. Lady Cheldarine jumped in her seat, eyes casting around the room as if looking for someone. But they were still alone. The serving woman had not yet returned. She took a closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am sorry, I should not have brought her up and you should not either. Especially not to the King. He forbade anyone of speaking her name in his presence many years ago. It is a particularly sore subject for him, when the Queen died she-" The door swung open and instantly Lady Cheldarine switched the subject to something completely different, an inane conversation about which young women at the court she approved of and could make potential matches for her son Elethiomel, and which she had reservations about. The serving woman brought the herbal tea to the table they sat at and it was poured and served to them along with selection of sweetmeats. The serving women returned to her place sitting unobtrusively at the back of the room. They continued to talk for some time, but never about what they had spoken of alone.</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "Boys can be so difficult though, especially at his age. Trying to be a man, while still thinking and feeling very much like child. I want someone who will be a good influence. Steadying, perhaps." Lady Cheldarine sighed and sipped at the cup of herbal tea in her hands. She sat back and leaned into the cushioned divan as the Princess spoke of learning about Morganyth and Formori culture. She smiled at the Princess's compliments, with almost a hint of smugness. "Well in the case, we must set a date for you to visit my estate in the city, your Highness. Once all this silly confinement has passed." She gave the Princess a smile at that and a roll of the eyes that went unobserved by their eavesdropper. "Although I assure you, there are many in this Kingdom who are already proud of you, myself foremost among them." The polite and inconsequential conversation between Lady Cheldarine and Princess Elise persisted for sometime after the return of the serving woman. They drank tea, nibbled at biscuits, and made pretence of ladies at leisure for all there to see. But it did not last indefinitely. Eventually there came another knock at the door of the Princess's chambers in the Silver Tower. One of the Princess's guardsmen entered into the sitting room and announced that the Lord Steward, Manawyndan, also sought an audience with Princess Elise. "Ah, it appears the good Lord Steward has gotten word of my impromptu visit, and so quickly too. I do so wonder how?" As she finished speaking with a tone of mock incredulity she gave a throaty laugh and looked directly at the woman sat in the back of the room. "I suppose I had best be on my way then, it would be dreadfully impolite of me to keep the poor old man waiting too long."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise was quite content spending her time with Lady Cheldarine, sipping away at the tea and even eating a few biscuits here and there. She had a lot to think about when it came to her engagement with the Warlord, perhaps it was even time to apologise for the behaviour of hers the other day. The stubborn side of her didn't want to be the one to cave first, especially when he had his hands around her throat, she didn't want to appear weak by crawling back with an apology. Pride, however, would not keep her alive so she knew she may have to make that step. "Oh, stop it, you are probably the only one who thinks as much." Elise chuckled to herself finishing off her tea as she placed it back on the table in front of her. If she was honest, she was even surprised that Lady Cheldarine was proud of her, part of her doubted the words but it was nice to hear. Especially when she didn't even have her own ladies of waiting to gossip or discuss with. It had become rather lonesome here, but she wasn't here for herself after all as it was all for the people to stop anymore bloodshed. It seemed though her visit was cut short when there was a knock at the door, looking up as she wondered who else wanted to visit? Elise hadn't expected the visit from Lady Cheldarine let alone anyone else and if she had known she would have worn some more fitting than her pink dress and grey shawl. "My aren't I popular today?" Musing over the idea as she leaned back in the chair of her wondering what had brought all these visits on. "Thank you for the visit, I hope to be able to visit your own estate soon." Offering a soft smile to the other woman whilst subtly hinting to her that she had listened carefully to what they had spoken about and had plans to fix it. Giving a small wave to her guardsmen to signal letting the Manawyndan inside she was curious to know why he was here. After all she hadn't really spoken much with this Lord, but there had to be a reason why he was visiting her whilst she had been confined to her rooms. Sighing softly to herself she sat upright placing a polite smile on her face ready to great him, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth As Lady Cheldarine rose to leave the Princess's chambers, her other visitor entered at the same time. Lord Manawyndan, the King's right hand, and perhaps the second most powerful person in Morganyth. The pair of them made for a striking contrast. While the Lady made up in bright orange and greens, the Lord was dressed in sombre black. His iron grey hair was as closely cropped as his dark clothing was tightly fitted. Despite his grandfatherly visage, the old man was still fit and trim. It seemed the cut of his clothes was his only concession to vanity, for other than that there was no hint of adornment or finery on his outfit. "Ah, My Lady, leaving so soon I see? Such a shame, I hoped to catch you." His voice was dry and rasping. It was not necessarily stern, but it lacked a variation in tone or cadence that made it seem serious. It was a voice that suited its owner eminently. "Why yes, Lord Steward. Only a fleeting and impromptu visit I'm afraid, I must be getting back to my own responsibilities." Lady Cheldarine demurred, but Manawyndan only fixed her with his dark eyes more intently. "An impromptu visit that happened to be while both the King and myself were busy in council?" Lady Cheldarine smiled at the old soldier, as if he were making some kind of joke. The two of them both took a step towards each other, so they only inches apart. She was tall for a woman and Manawyndan was of no great height himself, so their eyes were near level. Their gazes fixed upon one another. The tension between them was palpable. "My Lord, you are too suspicious." "That is my responsibility." The Lord Steward sighed and broke eye contact with the Formori woman. There was a curl to lip of Lady Cheldarine, she looked like she had just won some small victory. When she spoke next she was animated. "Well... unless you wish to share your suspicions with me, I must be one my way. Farewell, your Highness, and good day to you Lord Steward." Lady Cheldarine curtsied towards Princess Elise and then went to leave the room without a second glance at the second visitor. But the dry rasp of Manawyndan's raised voice stopped her dead in her tracks as she went to do so. "Oh actually, there was one thing I wanted to talk about, My Lady. Your son." She turned around slowly, to face Manawyndan, who's face now had the same small look of triumph on it that she herself had worn so recently. There was a tightness about her, the playful nature with which she had batted away the older Formori's previous insinuations was gone. "Peibio?" "No, My Lady. Elethiomel. I take you he has not told you then?" Manawyndan's smile grew wider. "He came to the Palace to volunteer his services to the King and the council. After all, is it not strange for a boy of his age not to have served at court yet? Hardly seems fair considering his younger brother is the royal cupbearer." "I always intended to send him to court... but plans change... his father... I wanted to keep him close." "You feelings do you credit as a Mother. Still, I think it would be wise to let the boy see something of the governance of the realm, he is the heir to a powerful house. But I haven't yet decided what exactly to do with him. There are many ways a young man might serve his King, on or off the field of battle. Do you see my reasoning?" When she spoke next the Lady's words were like shards of ice. Cold, sharp and deadly. "I see it clearly, Lord Steward." "Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, please." With a gnarled finger he motioned over to where the Princess was sitting, observing the furious exchange they had just engaged in. The Lady's eyes drifted over towards Elise, she nodded her head in submission and swiftly walked out of the door. Manawyndan seemed to visibly relax as she left, his shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh, the end of which was cut off by a small fit of coughing. "My apologies, Your Highness, for getting so distracted. Might I have a take a seat with you? Old bones."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise couldn't help but watch the exchange, eyes looking from the pair and she could tell with the undertones there was some sort of fight for power between them. It was like being back at home in her own court watching as others tried to gain some sort of upper hand over the over, little jibes and comments that to any onlooker would seem pleasant when there was a darker truth beneath them. Remembering how her brother would often tell her that keeping up appearances meant everything, that you should never divulge your true thoughts or feelings unless absolutely necessary. Not that I followed that when speaking with Lady Cheldarine earlier, but I didn't sense any danger. Unless I am truly being played whilst here. Frowning ever so slightly at her own thoughts as she continued to listen on. This impromptu visit happened whilst both he and the King were busy, she didn't want them to know she was here? Or that I am being spied upon whilst here as the talk was brisk. I still have many unanswered questions. Realising she had been frowning she placed her polite pleasant smile back on her face before anyone could notice, it seemed that both Manawyndan and Cheldarine were too busy butting heads so to speak. "Farewell Lady Cheldarine." Smiling as she began to bid the other a goodbye only to find herself caught by Manawydan once more as he didn't let the Formori woman win their little battle. What the elder man had said had clearly struck a chord with Cheldarine and even she had picked up on what she felt to be a quite threatening undertone aiming it towards the eldest son of hers. Elise knew that this woman was proud of her sons, she spoke so highly of them and she had remembered the proud tone of the woman at the feast a good few nights ago as they had spoke with one another. Sympathising with Lady Cheldarine she felt like she should say something, reassure the woman but it wouldn't help any sort of matter. That and being as she held no power here, she kept her mouth shut knowing that it was best to let Lady Cheldarine fight her own battles, the woman was well versed with things like court and Elise knew she would probably just make matters worse rather than help it. Nodding with a soft smile as Lady Cheldarine finally excused herself once more, she turned to Manawydan who had relaxed now the woman was gone, curious as to why he felt so tense around the Formori she knew it was best not to ask such a thing. Again, she found herself frowning when he began to have a small coughing fit, sitting forward she motioned for the server who was still hanging around in the background. "Would you kindly fetch us more tea? Perhaps some water for Lord Manawyndan." Glancing towards the Lord who had come to visit her just after her visit from Lady Cheldarine. "Of course, take a seat." Gesturing to the sofa before she folded her arms across her chest watching him carefully, wondering what had spurred his visit. "I daresay I was not expecting a visit from yourself, but it is welcomed." Knowing deep down there had to be some motive behind it, maybe he had only visited to shoo Cheldarine away. Perhaps he didn't want them talking with one another too much, but then she could just be overthinking things. It was hard not too when surrounded by a foreign place. "What do I owe this pleasure?" Elise kept her guard up around him, there was something she didn't quite like and she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "You are too kind, your Highness." The old lord said as he seated himself opposite the Princess and a fresh cup of tea was poured for him upon the table between them. He returned her own watchful gaze as the refreshments were reset. Apart from a very brief conversation the night of the Princess's arrival to the city, they had not really spoken to one another before. Manawyndan had been seating on the other side of the King at the feast, and there had been few courtly events or functions in the times since. Perhaps they both had some reason to be wary of each other. It was partly Manawyndan's machinations that had brought the Princess to Morganyth, but he had yet to gauge her character, and now he found other actors potentially trying to use her to their own ends. "It has been a morning for unexpected visits then. Did you discuss anything of import with Lady Cheldarine?" He took a sip of the tea that had been poured for him, the delicate cup sitting incongruously in his gnarled and callused hands. When he returned the cup to its saucer, the smile that parted his lips was pleasant enough, but his dark bronze eyes did not match it. "I will be plain with you, Princess Elise. You have had time to... reconsider... certain decisions you made in regards to your upcoming marriage to the King. My purpose in coming here today is to see if you have come to a more... reasonable... position?"</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise just flashed Manawydan a polite smile at his compliment of her being too kind, she was sure he was just being polite with her as she had ordered new refreshments for them both. Leaning forward she picked up her own cup of tea to hold it in her hands so she could enjoy the warmth more than anything. Manawydan had to be here with an agenda after all and she just had a feeling it had to do with Ozragad, that's why everyone had visited her so far this evening. "Quite, if I'd have known I would have dressed up." Elise spoke simply as she swept her gaze across the room before falling back on the Lord, "Oh you know, just idle gossip. Lady Cheldarine was telling me all about her sons, the idea of setting them up marriages." Waving it off as if they had just spent the day chatting like most of the ladies in court would. "I think she was just being kind seeing as I have not been able to engage in much conversation over here and I showed interest when speaking with her at the feast the other day." Giving away no hint that they would have discussed anything else, after all she did not personally trust this man and she feared she could get the woman into more trouble when she had been trying to help her. Elise could see the smile that didn't reach his lips, but she wouldn't slip up not whilst here within enemy walls. Lifting the cup to her lips she took a sip of the tea watching him over the rim of her cup as he approached the reason why he was here. Tapping her finger against the cup she let the words sit for a moment before she rested it back on her lap, she knew she shouldn't be surprised to find out that Manawydan knew of her and King Ozragads disagreement. This Lord had to be a part of the council and perhaps Ozragad was already coming up with plans to kill her off and be done with it after her refusal to marry him. "I have had plenty of time to consider my options. Yes." Making it sound like it had been her decision, it hadn't but regardless she found it that it irked her that he assumed she had come to a reasonable position. King Ozragad practically had her life in his hands, for a moment she had thought he would just strangle her to death, but no she had to be the reasonable one. "I must have been feeling quite under the weather at the time, homesick perhaps." Elise picked her words carefully, that she had been unwell and that was why she had denied marrying the warlord. "Certain decisions should have not been made in that state. I was looking to seek an audience with him to discuss it."</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s>
<\|description\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth --- --- The King's Council: An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind. Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today. He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities. An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest. Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries. Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon. Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws. The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip. Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change. The House of Ergyng: Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh. Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant. Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered. Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter. Nobility of the Realm: A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh. A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace. The Princess's Household A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition. A young Formori woman. A young Formori woman. Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants: A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan. An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace. Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed. Other: Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.</s> <\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth Though Manawyndan's face remained largely impassive as he listened to Princess's response, there was a slight rise to the older Formori's brow, a small sign of surprise perhaps. After all, did know what had occurred between the Princess and his King. He might have been expecting to martial his own skills of persuasion, or coercion, to bring her back into line with his and Ozragad's plan. In which case this would surely constitute a pleasant surprise. "That is excellent news, Your Highness." The old soldier smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, softening them from the hard flinty chips they had seemed moments before. "And I am glad to hear it. I believe you will find the King... receptive... such an audience. I can conduct you too him now? Or is Your Highness in need to more time to prepare?" Despite his deferential words and the choice he gave, Manawyndan's body language told something of a different story. His eyes glanced to the door and he sat forward in his seat, he had already set down the china cup on the table before him. He was eager to leave. Eager to get this mess that Ozragad had made sorted out. "It would of course, be a private audience. Just yourself, the King and perhaps a few of his most trusted councillors, if necessary. Such as myself."</s> <\|message\|>Elise Hydaelyn Elise knew she had to keep her wits about her when it came to this councillor, the way he had shut Lady Cheldarine down had struck a chord with her and she had a feeling that he had a lot more in this plan than met the eye. Perhaps she was just being far too suspicious of everyone around her, but that wasn't a bad thing when she was practically surrounded by wolves who could kill her in a heartbeat. "That is… wonderful." Trying to keep her smile in place as he said how the King would be receptive to that idea, or perhaps he was just waiting for another moment to wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life out of her. Unable to tell if Manawyndan was truly happy about the decision she watched the smile and it looked honest enough, no ill will behind it. "O-Oh." Caught off guard by the fact he was willing to go now, she hadn't expected it but maybe it was best to go bury the hatchet whilst he was on agreeable terms as the Lord had said. Even though he had offered her to take time to prepare she didn't feel like it was an option as already it looked like he was ready to go, eager to fix their fight. "No need." Waving it down as she came to her decision that it was best to resolve it now, as much as she would have loved to have been dressed to the nines it didn't feel all that important. "If we are to be married, he will see me in casual attire, so I will not change for the audience with him." Leaning forward as she placed her cup back on the table knowing the server would clean it up whilst they were gone. Rising to her feet she brushed the simple pale pink dress down as she kept the grey shawl wrapped round her shoulders debating on if she should take it. Considering the options, she felt it was better to take it, she could hide her hands beneath the fabric, and he would not be able to see her fiddling with the shawl. Plus, it would keep the cool air at bay, something that she had started to feel more lately which she put down to lack of sleeping. "Of course, if it's no bother I take it you would like to leave now?" Giving him a smile, she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of it being a private audience with a few trusted councillors. Whether it was for her benefit or not she hated the idea that she would have to back down in front of others when she really didn't want too, but on another hand perhaps them being there would make him think twice about strangling her. The marks had faded, but when caught in the right light could be seen to those who were looking for them, after all Lady Cheldarine had caught on to them so easily but Elise knew she had subconsciously touched her neck there giving it attention. "Are you certain he will not mind a visit now? Without any sort of warning?"</s>	<\|message\|>Notable Inhabitants of Morganyth "That would indeed be my preference, Your Highness. His Majesty devotes his mornings to dealing with matters of state. And this is a matter of state, is it not?" The old Formori phrased the statement like it was a question, a single brow raising slightly as he did so. "After all, this is not some ordinary lovers quarrel, Your Highness." As he spoke, Manawyndan's eyes lingered over the Princess's neck as she subconsciously stroked the marks from Ozragad's attack in library that had only occurred a few days earlier. He quickly averted them, and awkwardly coughed into his hand to try and disguise the movement. The very sight of them seemed to be something of an embarrassment to him. If you wish, you maybe bring any number of your guard with you, to ensure your... physical wellbeing. It shan't be necessary, I assure you, but if it would make you feel more... comfortable... then, please. And please, Your Highness, forgive my earlier choice of words, it was to my intent to offend." Carefully, the old man got to his feet and gave a slight bow to the Princess. "I will await you outside your chambers." He left the Princess's sitting room, quietly sighing as he went. --- Across the palace, in the chamber in which his council met, King Ozragad was seated at the head of long polished table of dark wood. One wall was dominated by a series of high narrow windows that looked down on the city below. Opposite them, on the other side of the hall was a series statues stood upon plinths and set back in niches, all carved in the likeness of dead Formori Kings and Queens. The King sat alone, save for the statues. The council dismissed for the morning in order to work on their own tasks while Ozragad continued to pour over the drafts of new documents, laws, and decrees they had been formulating. It was another part of the process of peace. How would Eorzia and Morganyth trade now they were no longer at war? What exports and imports would be subject to additional tariffs and taxes, which would be exempt from said duties. It was tedious. But it was necessary. It certainly seemed easier to take it all by the sword. Frankly more exciting too. But no, that was all done with now. Well... for now. His councillors had impressed upon him that good trading relations with their neighbour would be one of the quickest ways to ensure his treasure was refilled and his people well fed. So swallow his pride he must, and write laws for Eorzian merchants. And it could all still be for nothing... Ozragad set his quill down and rested his head in his hands, his elbows sitting atop the stacked parchments below. It was true, it could come to nothing. There was still no guarantee that the Eorzian Princess would have given into his threating demands. What would do then? Launch a war he knew he most likely couldn't win or reveal it was all bluff and beg for her forgiveness? The forgiveness of a child a fraction of his age, a child descended from those who had been the destroyers of his people. Gods, what a cruel joke. No, he had to trust that she was just making a show of resisting him. Still at the time it hadn't felt like she had just been putting on an act, that anger, staring death in the face. Manawyndan had been furious when Ozragad had told him what he had done. Rightly so perhaps, it had been nothing more than pride, anger, and spite that had begun that quarrel. And how had he decided to resolve it? Through threats of violence and butchery. Not an auspicious beginning to a peaceful marriage and a peaceful age. Is this really the sort of man you are? Manawyndan and some of his other councillors had been trying to talk him into making conciliatory gestures for half the morning. He had resisted their calls thus far, but for how long? There was a timetable to this betrothal, and the longer this went on the sooner word would get back to Eorzia that all was not going well. In the end he had met them half way, he would send Manawyndan in his stead, that way it wouldn't seem as if he was wavering... at least, he hoped it wouldn't. As the King mulled all of these problems over, he was surprised by the sound of someone knocking at the door to the council chamber. He wasn't expecting anyone until the afternoon when the servants would lay out a light repast before he took petitions in the throne room. "Enter." Ozragad commanded.</s>
<\|description\|>Léon Reverdin Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Human Rank: 4 of Cups Appearance: His normal appearance standing at 5'9", is more akin to that of a young Mayonite seminarian or scholar, rather than a hammer-toting cleric. When fully garbed in the attire of a shrine keeper, he seems like a different person. Personality: Having spent much of his life studying with the Mayonite church, Léon is personally familiar with hardship but not tragedy. He comes off as trusting and idealistic, but is not oblivious to the evils of the world, especially those that it is the duty of the Twin Churches to oppose. He isn't particularly adventurous or bold and perhaps is even a little apprehensive about stepping into caverns and dungeons, but it is Mayon's will, thus it is Léon's duty to carry it out even if it's not what he signed up for. Brief Backstory: The keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull are a small group of of Mayonite clerics in Estival who maintain and guard a remote reliquary honoring Saint Elionne, a saint renowned for her deeds of heroism. When the shrine was first built, acquiring a relic to inspire pilgrims proved difficult because all of Elionne's possessions were in the hands of the Iron Roses, the knightly order that she had founded and led. The clerics were unable to convince the Iron Roses to hand anything over, but they managed to obtain what they felt to be a passable substitute- the skull of Volkstraad, the dragon that Saint Elionne had slain, still bearing the piercing from the fatal blow struck by the Starlight Sword. The skull was taken to Estival and placed in the shrine so that pilgrims could look upon the saint's handiwork. While initially viewed as little more than a consolation prize, the skull became a revered symbol for the shrine and its clerics, and in time they took on a dragon motif in honor of it. Due to the shrine's remote location and the ever-present threat of thieves, bandits, or anyone with a grudge against Elionne, Mayon, or the Iron Roses, the keepers of the shrine adopted a martial tradition, training rigorously with maces and hammers to ensure the safety of pilgrims, the sanctity of the reliquary, and the security of its relic. Léon was born to a poor but devout family in Estival. When he was a child, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Pierced Skull. He was awed not only by the relic itself, but also by the helmeted, hammer-wielding warrior-clerics who stood vigil over the shrine and its contents, and the image stuck in his head for years. His parents were quite pleased with the though of their son joining the clergy, and worked hard to give him the opportunity to do so. Many of his younger years were spent serving as an acolyte for the church, and when he was old enough, he formally became a cleric novice. During his studies, he specifically requested to be assigned to the shrine that had left such an impression on him, despite it being effectively a backwater assignment with little opportunity for upward mobility in the church. After several more years of scrubbing the shrine floors, rigorous martial training, and theological and magical study, he was ordained and granted the arms and vestments of a shrine keeper. After a brief period of service, Léon was called to perform an unusual duty- the local Mayonite clergy had asked the shrine to spare someone to assist the Estival Adventurer's Guild and as the most junior keeper, he was picked. His duties were to spread the light of Mayon, lend his skills as a cleric to the adventurers, and in the process search the dark corners of the world for evidence of Elionne or any relics connected to her. It sounded like a bit more excitement than he had expected for his station, but he couldn't let Mayon down, so he set out to join the guild. Equipment: When adventuring or on duty, Léon wears the protective vestments and helmet of the shrine keepers, and wields a war hammer, their iconic weapon. He also carries a scepter topped with a perched dragon, serving as his spell catalyst, and can double as a light mace in a pinch. Skills: As a cleric of Mayon, Léon is trained in the use of magic to aid others. He can close wounds, ward allies from various forms of harm, and strengthen them spiritually, mentally, or physically. His skill in this is only enough, however, to be ranked a 4 of Cups. A better fighter than a healer, Léon's forte is his martial skill as a shrine keeper. He is a capable fighter with his warhammer, able to swing the heavy weapon far more adeptly and deftly than his appearance outside of his keeper attire would suggest. He also has a formal education in history and theology pertaining to the Church of Mayon.</s> <\|message\|>Tristram Ullr @Krayzikk@PaulHaynek@Heartfillia The door to the hall, as always, opened unceremoniously in comparison to the ruckus abound at its front. Well, that's gonna take a bit to clear out. It was certainly an apt descriptor of the man that floated in afterwards, "unceremonious". It bled through his every movement, from the quiet, casual gait to the plain greens and browns of his humble clothing. The burlap sack held in his right hand swung freely as he ambled on in, and there was little expression any could read on his face as he scanned the hordes of swarming adventurers. Chiefly because there was no way anyone could see his face to begin with. It was as much a mystery as Jane Doe's, off there in the corner fretting over some sort of paperwork. A woman in full armor, her helm was as omnipresent as his hood, even during tiny, menial tasks like that. Her story was that she had a truly grotesque visage, and concealed her horrid looks for fear of getting run out of town. Again. While he wasn't sure somebody that ugly could exist— and he'd seen some hideous bastards as a mercenary— his reasoning for the concealment was much simpler. Rather than a kindness to the world, sparing them of a cursed form, it was a particularly selfish and churlish thing, borne from a realization when wearing a mask of plain leather for five years prior. He knew that people would go great lengths to see it, so... By now it's just funny. In any case, it was clear that he was at home here, in this loud and chaotic hall. He continued on after he spared a glance towards the lonesome woman, unfettered by the clamor, and his concealed eyes quickly pierced through the milling mass to settle upon an admittedly already distinct pair. That sunset blonde hair, for instance, never stood still long enough to not notice. She made for a good reference point as he took a long path around, unwilling to try and fight his way through all those people just for the sake of a straight line. Good reference point... And a horrible financial demon. There was a reason he'd waited until now to show himself, and it squarely belonged to her, Cassia van Zyl. Sure, the half-elf was at first glance cute, but make no mistake— if you left her and your gold in a room together for five minutes, all you'd return to was some bread crumbs on the floor. She was a master at losing money, had no financial responsibility whatsoever. Of course he wasn't gonna let her in on where he went! And the thunderhead in blue wasn't someone you should let fool you either, but when it came to this moment, Sigi and her northerly background would have been far more reliable than the mercurial, eternally broke, and seemingly insatiable Cass. Would have been, if she wasn't asleep when he had the window to make it to town unmolested... She'd die down past Thaln. So he'd gone alone. They were, honestly, really lucky to have him around. Were it not for him, they'd be destitute, homeless, vagrants without a penny to their name or a meal in their stomachs after one wasted it all when the other couldn't bring themself to rein them in. They really should listen to what he said more. For instance. "Don't feed the animals, Sieglinde." a gruff voice sounded out from behind the woman with one of the largest blades in the room. "It makes 'em depend on you. They never learn to fend for themselves." Cassia was very clearly, despite a lack of eye contact, being either looked at or stared down, depending on how she interpreted his body language. Sieglinde, the owner of the dubious yet well-earned position of "second-most-reliable person in the party", received an unceremonious (there's that word again, see?) clap on the back to drive his words home. Finn... Meh.</s> <\|message\|>Sophie Velmet "Ah?!" The sound came, unbidden, from Sophie's lips, as someone considerably larger than herself stumbled into her from behind. The impact rattled her armor and caused her stagger forward, nearly colliding with the wall. In that instant, fury almost immediately rose in her heart. Really?! He couldn't possibly see that there was someone there?! Only an idiot would manage to miss that entirely. Only someone truly, completely, and utterly stupid could possibly fail to realize that there was someone there and that they shouldn't charge up like a complete moron! The small, purple-haired girl was aware that one of the guild workers, obviously a Nem, had already begun to lay into him. When she turned around, it didn't take too long for her to realize who it was. That oversized, stupid dog! Why was he so tall!? Weren't hundi supposed to be short?! Needless to say, the rapidly-mounting anger building up in the core of Sophie's small frame required some kind of immediate release. "You idiot!" snapped the diminutive adventurer, "Couldn't you see someone was here already?! Hmph! As if a true adventurer would be so braindead and ignorant about their surroundings as to blunder around like that! If you have to get right up next to the board to look at the avaliable jobs, wait your turn, moron!" With that, the Sophie rounded on her heel, her gaze now so intensely fixed on the board that she was practically staring a hole through it. Anyone even slightly familiar with the axe-wielding adventurer would know that she was rather tempermental, so perhaps this wasn't exactly surprising. @ghastlyInc</s>	<\|message\|>Léon Reverdin It appears I have arrived just in time for the new jobs to be posted. A young man stepped through the door, carrying a small basket with a few pieces of fruit. The first thing he noticed when he entered was the crowding around the job board, and the commotion coming from there. He had arrived too late to know what had happened exactly, so he wasn't quite sure why Sophie was going off on a tirade, although it sounded like someone bumped into her trying to be one of the first to get to the job board. It wasn't really any of Léon's business, and either way he wasn't in any rush to get to the job board. Currently, his only concern was finding a place where he could sit down and eat his breakfast in peace. After looking around a bit, he spotted a mostly-unoccupied table in the corner, occupied only by Jane with a neat stack of papers. More jobs for the board, perhaps? It didn't matter too much to Léon. Even if there wasn't another wave of jobs to be posted, he saw little need to trip over himself (potentially earning himself a verbal beatdown in the process) to get first dibs on a quest. Léon's abilities to heal, bless, and ward were always in high demand in the guild, even for a lowly 4 of Cups like himself. Truth be told, he was better at swinging his hammer and scepter than healing or blessing, but he reckoned he'd have more opportunity to get into a party as a 4 of Cups than as a 5 of Swords. Of Jane himself, he knew very little of her, other than what everyone did. She was a 4, same rank as him, and seemed more comfortable with doing Guild chores than adventuring. Other than that, she was a closed book, a reclusive fellow who never discussed her past and never showed her face due to having suffered some sort of gruesome injury that left her face disfigured prior to joining the guild. Whatever her past was, her armor and weapons seemed to be of fairly good quality, far better than would be expected for a guild errand girl. Poor Jane. Whatever happened to her, she still seems pained by it, he observed, briefly looking down at the Mayonite holy symbol he wore around his neck. From what he had observed of Jane, her pain seemed to run far more deeply than the physical disfigurement that prompted her to never show her face. Undoing the grisly damage to her visage was no doubt beyond his ability, but perhaps if she could be brought to know the comforting grace of Mayon, whatever spiritual scars that seemed to afflict her could be healed. In the very least, if her injuries carried with them constant physical pain, he could at least be able to temporarily alleviate that. Either way, he needed some place to sit. Léon strode over to the table and sat down opposite Jane. He removed the fruits from his basket and placed them in front of him, careful as to not disrupt her stack of papers. He gripped his Mayonite symbol with his right hand, silently calling upon the Goddess for support. Mayon, Goddess of the Moon, please help guide me as I endeavor to aid this pained soul. "Good morning, Jane," he said to her, trying his best to be friendly. He was about to make small talk by asking about the papers, but he stopped himself. No, if I do that, it'll sound like I'm just trying to get first dibs at the jobs. Best not to mention that at all. "Are you hungry? Would you care for some food?" he asked, after an awkward silence of trying to figure out what to say. It was true that she couldn't exactly eat in anyone's presence, not with that helmet on, but the gesture couldn't hurt.</s>
<\|description\|>Léon Reverdin Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Human Rank: 4 of Cups Appearance: His normal appearance standing at 5'9", is more akin to that of a young Mayonite seminarian or scholar, rather than a hammer-toting cleric. When fully garbed in the attire of a shrine keeper, he seems like a different person. Personality: Having spent much of his life studying with the Mayonite church, Léon is personally familiar with hardship but not tragedy. He comes off as trusting and idealistic, but is not oblivious to the evils of the world, especially those that it is the duty of the Twin Churches to oppose. He isn't particularly adventurous or bold and perhaps is even a little apprehensive about stepping into caverns and dungeons, but it is Mayon's will, thus it is Léon's duty to carry it out even if it's not what he signed up for. Brief Backstory: The keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull are a small group of of Mayonite clerics in Estival who maintain and guard a remote reliquary honoring Saint Elionne, a saint renowned for her deeds of heroism. When the shrine was first built, acquiring a relic to inspire pilgrims proved difficult because all of Elionne's possessions were in the hands of the Iron Roses, the knightly order that she had founded and led. The clerics were unable to convince the Iron Roses to hand anything over, but they managed to obtain what they felt to be a passable substitute- the skull of Volkstraad, the dragon that Saint Elionne had slain, still bearing the piercing from the fatal blow struck by the Starlight Sword. The skull was taken to Estival and placed in the shrine so that pilgrims could look upon the saint's handiwork. While initially viewed as little more than a consolation prize, the skull became a revered symbol for the shrine and its clerics, and in time they took on a dragon motif in honor of it. Due to the shrine's remote location and the ever-present threat of thieves, bandits, or anyone with a grudge against Elionne, Mayon, or the Iron Roses, the keepers of the shrine adopted a martial tradition, training rigorously with maces and hammers to ensure the safety of pilgrims, the sanctity of the reliquary, and the security of its relic. Léon was born to a poor but devout family in Estival. When he was a child, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Pierced Skull. He was awed not only by the relic itself, but also by the helmeted, hammer-wielding warrior-clerics who stood vigil over the shrine and its contents, and the image stuck in his head for years. His parents were quite pleased with the though of their son joining the clergy, and worked hard to give him the opportunity to do so. Many of his younger years were spent serving as an acolyte for the church, and when he was old enough, he formally became a cleric novice. During his studies, he specifically requested to be assigned to the shrine that had left such an impression on him, despite it being effectively a backwater assignment with little opportunity for upward mobility in the church. After several more years of scrubbing the shrine floors, rigorous martial training, and theological and magical study, he was ordained and granted the arms and vestments of a shrine keeper. After a brief period of service, Léon was called to perform an unusual duty- the local Mayonite clergy had asked the shrine to spare someone to assist the Estival Adventurer's Guild and as the most junior keeper, he was picked. His duties were to spread the light of Mayon, lend his skills as a cleric to the adventurers, and in the process search the dark corners of the world for evidence of Elionne or any relics connected to her. It sounded like a bit more excitement than he had expected for his station, but he couldn't let Mayon down, so he set out to join the guild. Equipment: When adventuring or on duty, Léon wears the protective vestments and helmet of the shrine keepers, and wields a war hammer, their iconic weapon. He also carries a scepter topped with a perched dragon, serving as his spell catalyst, and can double as a light mace in a pinch. Skills: As a cleric of Mayon, Léon is trained in the use of magic to aid others. He can close wounds, ward allies from various forms of harm, and strengthen them spiritually, mentally, or physically. His skill in this is only enough, however, to be ranked a 4 of Cups. A better fighter than a healer, Léon's forte is his martial skill as a shrine keeper. He is a capable fighter with his warhammer, able to swing the heavy weapon far more adeptly and deftly than his appearance outside of his keeper attire would suggest. He also has a formal education in history and theology pertaining to the Church of Mayon.</s> <\|message\|>Shir Anders Shir had been about to respond when they were interrupted by another adventurer. She looked from him to the stack of cards and back. "Were were actually about to start a game of cards." She gestured at the table. "We were actually about to enjoy a game of cards, perhaps someone else might actually be interested in you joining them..." She gave him a pointed look before turning back to the Hundi couple and gestured for Corrine to deal out hands. She had little patience for someone so blunt that they wouldn't try to have a conversation before trying to work their way into a group. The shadow by her side continued to stare at him for a moment longer before turning away with a dismissive shrug. One of the two looked more suited to be working a business in a city than adventuring. Her partner looked decidedly more dangerous and possibly carried the other one through jobs. The first one was likely another mage, possibly of some power since she had partnered with someone that looked as competent as the second. "I am merely very pale, no need to worry about my health but I unfortunately sunburn easily on such bright days." She gestured to the shadow. "I do much better in the dark. Maybe we could spend some time here and see what the evening brings." @Raineh Daze</s> <\|message\|>Nehir Rasim Nehir "Oh uh...nemmish uh..." Nehir sputtered, somewhat taken a back by the language. He spoke it though hardly with as much proficiency as he really aught to. Estival WAS home to a few Nem towns, though it was often just easier to use the common language. He'd really only ever spoke it with his family back home, his mother insistent that he and his younger sister learn at least the basics. "Safas ma tasu. Ahs da yar-ei Nehir. You'll uh...have to forgive me. A little rusty with that tongue." He says flushing slightly, his native accent slightly butchering his pronunciation. He took a good look at the girl as she landed. She was a little taller than him he noted, his pride wounding a little. She had looked shorter a moment ago atop the knight he'd sworn...That aside, it was harder to tell how fit she was, her cloak pulled tightly around herself like that. But with that sword strapped to her, Nehir was very much doubtful she was as bad in a fight as she said. That thing was gorgeous! It had to have cost as much as two of his scepters! "I'd be more than happy to have you along Nefrena!" Nehir said, quickly tearing his eyes away from the sword, not wanting to be rude. "It's rare to have another Nem in the party, so I'm looking forward to working with you." He added with a small bow. "And don't worry about the fighting. I'm kind of specialized in that area...So if anything, you're doing me a huge favor. Magic as a weapon is a bit useless if I don't have a clue where to aim it." He said, hoping to bolster the girls enthusiasm for the job and knowing how it felt to think you were the dead weight in the group. His eyes widened a moment later before he hastily added, "N-not that I'll be aiming at YOU of course! That'd be silly!" he gasped, hoping the girl hadn't yet caught wind (metaphorically or otherwise) of his somewhat mixed reputation. @Rune_Alchemist</s> <\|message\|>Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges Corinne and Liliane "As she said, we're just playing cards," Liliane stated, wondering exactly how the man had so quickly decided that they must be working together by dint of sitting together. This was a good table for cardgames and it was unlikely that anyone experienced hadn't noticed it once or twice. Or maybe this was one of those workaholic types. "You can join if you wish; it's a little early in the day for gambling anything, of course." Mostly because once people had time to start drinking, they liked to gamble a lot more. The white-haired Hundi dealt out the deck swiftly, including a pile in the middle and one deck face down--if Rowan declined to join in, then it would be up to Corinne to join in... and no doubt lose hopelessly, but the other two of them would no doubt have a good enough time. Corinne, on the other hand, shuffled over a little so as to not see the cards if she had to join in, picking her staff up from the ground between the two as she did so. "Ah, I am sorry, mademoiselle. I 'ope I did not offend you too badly..." She did perk up at the mention of a party, though from the way her eyes glanced over towards her more boyish partner it was obvious this wasn't for any adventuring reason and instead some personal pride. "Non, we are not a party. Liliane 'ere is my wife before my adventuring companion. We should introduce ourselves, yes? I am Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges." @Vec</s>	<\|message\|>Léon Reverdin Jane was as distant as ever. N-No. I've... already eaten. These are the uhh, more quests for the board. Would you-- like to take a look at them?" "I appreciate it, Jane," Léon answered, "But I suppose I wouldn't feel right about getting first peek at them before they're posted. I try not to worry too much about getting to jobs first. Being a Cup, it's easy enough to find a group in need of my talents." As far as adventurers went, Léon wasn't particularly adventurous- he had only joined the guild at the behest of the Church of Mayon, and hadn't been particularly proactive in finding ways to risk his life- mostly he just tagged along in the not-uncommon event that a group needed a healer. Did I snub her, he asked himself after giving his reply. Was it inconsiderate of me to not take up her offer? Léon felt a wave of worry wash over him. He didn't want to make someone feel even worse. "Tell you what, I'll take a look at the ones you already put on the board," he spoke, basically muttering the first thing he came up with. "Hopefully there'll be something suitable for 4's like us. You're welcome to any of my food in the meantime." Léon got out of his seat, leaving his food on the table. He didn't really care much for the jobs themselves, it was mostly just to try and conclude this conversation in a somewhat natural manner. The cleric made his way to the board. Because of the crowding, it took a while for him to get there. Sophie's tirade from earlier gave him ample motivation to take it slow and not bump into anyone, so it was slow going. Some of the others were getting creative to look at the board- Mellifleur's undead thrall was lifting a female Nem mage, Nefrena if he recalled correctly, onto its shoulders so she could see the board. While he was at first enormously apprehensive about a necromancer parading around a skeletal minion, he had become accustomed to its presence. He had never asked about it, largely because both Léon and the skeleton's controller were both Cups, it was unlikely for them to end up in a group together. After taking more time than he'd have liked, Léon finally got close enough to the board to look at the jobs. He looked over the postings, more curious than anything at this point. Some were above his ranking, some were below, and a few were within it. Orc hunting, probably not. Escort duty, probably pretty easy but looks pretty long. Disappearances, sounds risky, not to mention no clue what I'd be getting into. But wait, what's this? His eyes practically lit up when he saw the fourth and final job within his rank. A monastery lost since the war against Orodrunn has been located and the church is willing to pay handsomely for any artefacts recovered...yes, YES! It mentioned being potentially risky, but he didn't care. It was a church job, and an artifact recovery one at that. In just a moment, Léon's apathetic demeanor disappeared, replaced by motivation and determination to see this particular job through. He snatched the paper from the board and took it with him as he made his way back through the crowds to the table in the corner, where Jane still was. It wasn't enough to take a job, he'd need to find at least three other people to bring along, and he knew where he could find at least one adventurer who hadn't yet joined up on a job. "Remember how I said I was just content to wait till others ask me to come along on a job? Well I was wrong," he spoke to Jane, much more upbeat, as he placed the paper on the table. "They posted a job from the Church to excavate artifacts from a recently rediscovered monastary ruin, and I feel it's my duty as a cleric of Mayon to ensure that this job is fulfilled. I won't be able to do it without a decent party, however, and I haven't seen you mingling with the others, would you like to join after you've finished posting the next batch of jobs? I could use a Sword, and could also use some help putting a party together."</s>
<\|description\|>Min-a Suhmoon Min-a Suhmoon "We built the world just to burn it to the ground." Gender: Female \| She/Her Age: 15 Birthday: August 27th Appearance Hair: A cool brunette Eyes: A charcoal brown Height: 5'6" Other: Has a constant look of skepticism in her eyes. She has a scar at the nape of her neck, down towards her right shoulder blade. She has long legs and her body type has been called 'model-like', meaning she is quite slender but still athletic. Has light freckles in the summer. Personality: • Flippant • Intrepid • Skeptical • Min-a may be courageous, however her disrespectful attitude has been known to get her in trouble. She is known for her stubborn persona, along with always being someone whom stands up for others. She has a slight disregard for authority, however, she does listen well if she knows there will be severe consequences to her actions. She has a morbid and cynical view of the world, and believes most people are made of evil. It is incredibly hard for anyone to gain the trust of Min-a. Strengths: * High Endurance * Running * Lock-picking * Inventive Weaknesses: * Weak with hand to hand combat * Dyslexic * Fear of the dark * Impulsive Likes: * Singing/Music * Running * Sparring, even if she is terrible. * Learning new skills * Collecting of memorabilia Dislikes: * Boring people * Spineless people * The dark * Snobs * Religion Fears: * Complete darkness * To feel useless * Finding a connection, then subsequently losing said connection Power: ORANGE - Can read thoughts and understand intentions of others. Can also see the dreams of others, however she does not know this. Family: Kang-min Suhmoon - Father - 47 - Dead Mi-yeon Suhmoon - Mother - 36 - Alive - Is currently in hiding with various children whom have escaped. Min-a does not know this - Yoo-na Suhmoon- Sister - 11 - Dead - History: Min-a was born in Seoul, South Korea, before migrating to the USA as a infant. She grew up in what most would consider the 'ghetto', as her family did not have the means to survive in a middle-class environment. Her father was a strict man, who always claimed to have a higher sense of morals. This came to be untrue, as he was murdered in a drug deal gone wrong when Min-a was at the age of 7. Min-a's mother picked up the slack afterwards, caring for both of her daughters as well as she could. Min-a didn't consider her life bad, however, when IAAN struck, everything she considered 'normal' was torn apart, right in front of her eyes. Min-a's sister, Yoo-na, was one of the first in their area to fall sick. She did not make it, to Min-a's dismay. A few days after the death of her sister, Min-a started to hear the fragmented voices of others, causing her to think of herself as mentally unwell. That was until the day of the collection. Min-a has an incredibly hard time with hearing the thoughts of others, even when she can pick up the smallest of details. She hates knowing the intentions of those around her, however, because she can read thoughts, she is able to mirror the Greens as a way of blending in. Theme Song: All Good Girls Go to Hell - Billie Eilish "And once the water starts to rise And heaven's out of sight She'll want the devil on her team"</s> <\|message\|>Alkibiades Alessi Alki laid in bed, eyes closed, wanting to sleep, but insomnia kept him from resting. Earlier in the day one of his cabin members, Eric, was taken away again. After the first time it happened, Alki kept his distance. Eric was a troublemaker, kept wanting his freedom, he's lucky he hasn't ended up dead. Alki can't deal with people like that. The ones that trigger his power in close proximity. He's learned to stay away from those types, lest he want the migraine from hell and visions of death. Everyone else was in a somber mood, he didn't really care. Eric deserved what he had coming to him. Doesn't pay to start trouble. His foot tapped against the metal bar at the foot of his bed, he couldn't do that when he first arrived. He was a two more inches away from his feet hanging over the end. Guess they didn't account for growth spurts as far as beds were concerned. BOOM! The ground tremored, probabilities of what it could be flitted through his mind. The death and carnage he saw shook him more than anything he's seen so far in captivity. He hit the floor hard. The boy in the bed next to him grabbed his shirt and pulled him underneath with him. His cabin mates knew he couldn't do for much when he had one of his fits. The visions vanished, the same times the tremors stopped. He crawled out from his place and looked outside. It was carnage outside. Adults with white armbands and kids fought the PSF. They weren't winning. Alki sunk to his knees and curled up against the wall. There was little chance of any of them making it out of this alive. The 10% of survival didn't come unscathed. Any number of injuries could happen that could slow them down and get them captured. There aren't medical services if they do manage to escape, so any injuries could get infected. He's terrified. They had a better chance surviving if they stayed put and didn't get in trouble with PSF than if they made a run for it. Alki's content to wait this out.</s> <\|message\|>Alyssa Jane Barker Alyssa Barker Two years. 730 days of... nothing. Alyssa hadn't gotten anywhere closer to getting out of here. In fact, the only places she'd gotten to other than the cabin and labor house was the nurses office and solitary confinement. The latter she'd seen quite a bit of. She'd grown a little too comfortable with those cells. At this point, she considered her time in solitary as a vacation. She was even able to have a little fun messing with the guards too. The first time she'd gone was the second most frightening time of her life. The little light bulb display she'd shown her first day in the camps wasn't taken lightly. The next day, after a rough night of little sleep, she'd been the only one taken from her cabin. As they were taking her away, rubber gloves sticking tightly to her sweaty and nervous hands, Alyssa could only wonder what they were going to do. What they'd done to the five kids the day before was terrifying. Was she going to get the same fate? What would they tell her father? Would they make it look like an accident committed by another kid at camp? She was relieved to find out that the punishment wouldn't be physical, but she also wasn't happy to be thrown into a small, metal room. For two days she sat in that cold cell. It gave her plenty of time to think about her situation. What she didn't think about was why she'd been sent to solitary. Such a small act of disobedience sent her here? No biggie. At least they hadn't done anything worse. Two days in solitary, for dropping a light bulb during processing. She grew to understand that two days was the usual length of time. The longest time she'd spent there? Five days. For what? She zapped a guard for bullying another kid. Little acts like this sent her to solitary quite often. She didn't mind. If she could do one thing in this awful camp, it would be to stand up against the guards as much as she could. --- When Jasmine suggested a game of truth or dare, Alyssa wasn't too thrilled. Yet after a long, uneventful day, she just wanted a distraction. So Alyssa joined the group in their little circle. She glanced around at the other girls and briefly wondered what new truths or dares they would commit to that night. Before anything could begin, there was a sudden, intense thunder outside. Alyssa looked around the room, her bewilderment clear on her face. She noticed a few of the others covering their ears and awaiting the white noise, and Alyssa quickly did the same. She hadn't heard the blaring noise in a long time. She wasn't sure why the weekly siren had stopped, but she'd taken it as an act of mercy by the camp's leader. Would it still feel the same? Would it be even more painful since it had been so long? She shut her eyes tightly and braced herself. Yet it didn't come. Instead, she heard the sounds of chaos from outside. She slowly opened her eyes and lifted herself off of the ground. One of the girls, Annabelle, was headed towards the door. Alyssa glanced around the room for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed. What was going on outside? Was this the time to escape? While she wasn't fluent in the secret language that the kids had developed, she picked up on a few things. Was this what they were warning the other kids about? Filled with a new sense of hope, Alyssa followed Annabelle over to the door. If this really was the day to break loose, Alyssa was all for it. No matter how scared she was of failure and the PSF's violence, Alyssa desperately wanted her freedom back. Even if she could hear gunfire and screams that made her heart begin to race and raised the hairs on the back of her neck she was determined to fight. She took a deep breath and summoned all of the courage she could before she walked past Annabelle. From her pocket she pulled two paper clips she'd picked up while visiting the nurses office a while back. "I may not have done this before, but I've always wanted to try it." She mumbled mostly to herself, but also to the other girls in the cabin. Her voice was as confident as ever, but also had a tone of seriousness as she spoke. "If this works, I'm going out there." She pulled the paper clips apart and stuck them into the lock in the hopes that jiggling them around would do the trick. If that didn't help, there was another option in the room. She turned her head to the side and peered back at the only blue that Alyssa felt close enough to ask this. "Mackie, could you maybe, uh... push the door open?" By push, Alyssa meant force it off of its hinges. At least, that's what she'd do if she was a blue. While she wasn't quite sure that the girl could use her ability well, she wondered if this was the day that Mackie would feel brave enough to try it out. Her eyes fell on Min-a, and she nodded her head towards her. "Min-a, you know how to lock-pick, don't you?"</s>	<\|message\|>Min-a Suhmoon Time started to become irrelevant to Min-a, who did not dare count the days as they passed by. At first, Min-a couldn't find herself, unable to stop the voices of bystanders. The intentions of others were like a weight on her back also, and trying to carry herself got more and more tiring as the days went on by. Slowly, with many visits to solitary, she was able to learn how to focus on just one person, and more importantly, how to block everyone out. Finally, her own thoughts weren't as clouded by others and lots of her frantic outbursts due to the chaos in her mind started to slow down. She was no longer as unhinged as she was in the first couple of months, and she even became an integral part of helping protect those who she now considered her peers. Feeling the intentions of others was an easy way to know when to step into a situation, and Min-a became a great distraction for those who needed it. Sure, she had a large target on her, but that was sort of the point. When she was in a room, attention fell on her quite a bit, allowing it to be easier for others to get away with their endeavors. She knew when to poke the bear and subsequently pull information while doing so. Min-a couldn't care less about the countless times she was sent away, at peace with the fact that she was helping someone, somehow. Still, it wasn't easy, and she realized quickly that no matter what she did, some people would always look at her the same. Orange. ________________ Min-a lept from her bed, ignoring Jasmine and whatever shenanigans she was suggesting today. She didn't hate the girl, not in the slightest, however, the girl was so admirably positive through everything that it tired Min-a. Instead, she focused on the sinking feeling in her stomach, knowing this was a sign of something greater. Her eyes watched the other girls, trying to read if anyone of them was the reason for her uneasy feeling. A blaring noise interrupted everything, and Min-a could suddenly feel it. Fear and anxiety erupted in the pit of her stomach, which did not match her own. It was nauseating, to say the least. Min-a subconsciously moved her hands over her ears, her entire body tensing as she readied herself for the impact of the white noise. Nothing. Was it true then? Did something happen to it? She had taken notice of the chatter among many Greens, and with what she good gather from them, something was amiss. They weren't using the white noise to the extent they had before, and it surely wasn't because of good behavior. Could something have happened to their beloved dog whistle? Eyes now forward, Min-a stood up, straightening herself and readying for the moment. She watched as Annabelle and Alyssa stood near the door, and her impatient nature started to take in as Alyssa bent forward, fumbling with the lock on the door. She knew everything, including timing, was incredibly important and before Alyssa even said anything, she was beside her, hands out. Luckily, Alyssa had already relinquished her duty, dropping the paperclips into Min-a's hand. "I need someone who can blowback any guards to stand behind me," Min-a rushed, unsure if anyone would do as she said. She fumbled along with the now makeshift lockpick, her hands shaking and heart slamming against her chest. Then, a small click. A deranged smile erupted onto Min-a's face as she let out a small giggle, the door swinging ever so slightly open. Biting down on her lip, she pushed the door again, allowing it to show her and the other girls what was amiss. That was when they all saw it. The bodies. The fire. The swarms of kids fighting. This. Is. It.</s>
<\|description\|>Chris Daniels Chris Daniels " A hero is one who kindles light, one who lights the torches ablaze that light up the darkest streets of life "-Felix Adler Gender: Male Age: 15 Birthday: March 17 Appearance Hair: Blonde Eyes: Dull Blue Height: 5'5 Personality: • Sarcastic • Kind • Quite • Loyal Chris is a kind soul that doesn't like to make any big waves or draw attention to himself. However with that being said those who are able to make Chir open up and actually become close friends are sure to find someone who would drop everything to help them if needed. He is fiercely loyal to those close to him and would rather die then watch them be hurt which has its own ups and downs. On the flip side however, Chris has built up a lot of anger through his youth and which has begun to leak out as he has gotten older. He does his best to keep it under wraps but ever so often it cracks through showing a rage that is hard to believe could come from him. Strengths: * Fast learner * People are often drawn to kind nature * Hardworking Weaknesses: * Anger- while it rarely comes out Chirs has a deep anger that he keeps bottled up. * Those he cares about * quite Likes: * Music * camping * loyalty Dislikes: * Alcohol * taking advantage of others * lies Fears: * Losing those he cares about * Giving into the anger he holds Other: Revenge and anger are not something you one should give in to. But man does it feel good. Power: RED- while he hasn't yet learned how to create it Chris can make a fires intensity increase or put it out. He usually practices this on candles or the flames in a lantern Family: Chris Daniels Sr.-Father- alive Rebecca Daniels-Mother- Alive History: Chris was always the kid that just flew under most people's radar whether that be for better or for worse. While he was smart and a kind person he kept to himself and his friends never making waves in his classes. To his benefit, this did mean that he was able to avoid just about all the drama most kids his age went through. No one really knew why this was or what was really happening behind the scenes of the quiet kid in class. Those few who had a view of his life could see that he had far from a perfect life. His father as kind of a man he could be was a stern figure who kept Chris grounded in reality. His mother, on the other hand, was a caring woman who constantly encouraged him to be whatever he wanted. As much as Chris loved both his parents he grew to hate his times at home. His father, while never physically abusive, had a hard habit of drinking. Through this, Chris learned just how much a person could change with the substance coursing through their veins. Chris can still remember the nights he could hear his father yelling about something that wasn't important. This constant screaming and tip-toeing around the problem led to Chris slowly building resentment and deep anger towards his father and alcohol in general. Chris remembers that fateful night as if it were yesterday, the night where everything changed. It was a crisp cold night outside Daniel's house. His family had decided to sit outside for the night around their fire pit. As the night progressed Chris found himself staring into the fire more intently. Something about it pulled him towards it. Zoning everything else out Chris was unaware of the Fire growing in size and intensity. It had taken his father grabbing and shaking him to pull his eyes away from it causing the fire immediately die out. Fearing what he could do if someone wanted to stop him Chris turned himself into the police where he was quickly taken by PSF's to a "Treatment facility". Other: Chris always wears two necklaces around his neck. One is a silver cross, the other is a dog tag with the inscription "hold the light. Never let it die." Theme Song: My Demons - Starset They're all around me, Circling like vultures They wanna break me and wash away my colors Optional</s> <\|message\|>Min-a Suhmoon "This isn't real-" "Papa will come get me, I'm sure." "Maybe, after they do testing, they'll let us go-" The framentend voices of children in horror were the first things that crowded Min-a's mind, suffocating her with their hidden pleas and fears. They scattered, forever changing, some full of dread, others, hope. The second thing that welled up, violently, were the images. Scattered memories people held onto, from faces, to last words, that drowned Min-a in a never ending pit of despair. Still, all of this was easier to listen to than the foolish kids that actually thought they had a chance. That THEY were the golden child, the child that would make it. Not like she had a choice in who she heard. Not yet. Still, she tried to flip past them as much as she could, unable to fathom the pipe dream that they clung to so desperately. Min-a spoke out loud as the voices in her head flew past her like flipbook, mumbling words from each one as she tried to hang on to one person, for at least a moment. To others, she probably sounded mad, but she didn't care. Anything to figure out how to control the noise. Anything to try to get it to stop, or, at least, slow down. All she could get was phrases, tiny pieces, but it was better than the single words that would flip by, all jumbled together, but all different. "Everyone RUN NOW!" This voice was loud enough to snap Min-a out of her haze, silencing the noise that plagued her. Someone was yelling, frantic. Her dark eyes darted around, trying first to find the culprit that cried out. An acrid smell filled the air, smoke rising above a small group of people, all panic-stricken. Her eyes widened as they cleared out and away from what could only be considered a monstrosity. Burnt flesh peeled from what used to be a woman, her arm reached out in what she only could assume was an attempt to get help. Min-a swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, her hand covering her mouth in horror. Still, all her instincts told her to stay still, silent. Then, the noise to end all noises happened. Min-a dropped to her knees, fingers wrapped in her dark locks as she let out a scream resembling a banshee. Her vision faded as her head hung, entire body falling limp, only to be wretched up multiple times before being laid against a wall in what seemed like a sign of defeat by one of the PSFs. As Min-a came to, her eyes fluttering open, she noticed most people stood forward, and she was flooded with a feeling she knew well, hatred. Stumbling to stand, Min-a used the wall to get back up before being pushed forward by a PSF, tumbling towards and into a small group of people. Swearing under her breath, and forced to use a stranger to lean on, Min-a looked with the crowd and the man who radiated disdain. Min-a mind wandered at this moment, her eyes barely focused at the man in front of her. What was the word... It's not hate. Stronger than hate. Her eyes flashed towards the five. Not despise. Idiot. Her eyes then moved to the barrel of a gun behind one of the children. Loathe. That's the word. They loathe us- Shots rang out, and for a moment, just a moment, everything was once again black. ________________________________________________ Min-a stumbled out of the 'testing' room, muzzled and handcuffed. She was pushed by the PSFs harshly, and she could feel their fear of her heighten. The orange mark on her back changed things, and their intent and feelings quickly altered. They knew, no matter what, she was not to be trusted. She was the unknown, and they hated that. The PSFs shoved her towards the line of females, and she fell along, right behind a blonde girl a bit taller than herself. Min-a bit down against her lip, ignoring the pain soaring throughout her body. Her eyes started to shoot around, attempting to take in as little information she could. Still, though, her vision was blurry from the chaos before, and she couldn't make out much before stumbling upon the cabin. Before Min-a could process the situation someone rushed forward, helping her take off her muzzle and handcuffs. Min-a reeled back and away from the person who freed her, knowing if they touched her she could reach much farther in their head than she would ever want. For a moment, there was silence. "So, I guess this is home..." Min-a said flatly, before taking her muzzle and putting it on the top bunk of a random bed- a way of claiming it. She looked at the others, and for a moment, she felt the animosity that some of them felt towards her and the other oranges. Pressing her back against a wall, she slid to the ground, eyes now focused on a drip of water from a pipe nearby. Home sweet home.</s> <\|message\|>Harper Azalea Cartella Harper Azalea Cartella That step on the bus might have well been the end of it all. That was the moment Harper realized they knew, that she had been careless, that she could no longer hide what she was and from other standpoints the scariest. Her eyes darted around to around the bus, as she was urged through the line to a seat. She didn't open her mouth to breathe, even though her lungs felt like they were about to implode. They had guns. It concerned her, it controlled her thoughts. She wasn't going to try anything. She wasn't going to die today. The ride was a long one but she couldn't sleep, not that she tried. She stayed up, tapping her foot lightly on the ground, looking around with her red, puffy, tear-stained eyes. She saw some of the other kids were asleep, others were like her. She met eyes with some of those kids, but no one had anything that was more reassuring than the next. She knew they weren't going to die, but she also knew from what her father always told her- There are a lot of things worse than death, and she was about to find out. She then felt the bus stop, the men with the guns stand up, almost too fast to process. Her first reaction is instead of looking down, is to take a look out the window. To see where they were going and she did, and what felt like seconds later they were all lined up off the bus into another building. The smell that filled her noise was enough to give her a headache alone if it wasn't for the fact she had already had one. Like a crashing wave, she heard the kid say run, and instead, she froze. She felt the tears come through her eyes as she turned around to see what had happened and the large man in front of her giving the speech. She wiped off her tears furthermore feeling the burning in her throat. Harper made her way to the room forcing her steps forward. She felt like she was going to collapse, nevermind has to deal with more. She looked at the girl in the room raising an eyebrow at her before laying down under the machine. She closed her eyes and opened them and it was done. She was expecting something worse, a lot worst. She sat up, looking at the lady, before answering. "Harper, Harper Azalea Cartella" She continued to answer the questions, not immediately but after a few seconds and briefly. She let the girl place handcuffs on her but panicked seeing the muzzle. She shook her head no, tears coming out her eyes. "No, no please-" and the rest was muffled away, and she was sent on her way. She saw the kids poor in after her all placed into lines, all with a color marking them, and soon they made their way to the camp, and into the beds. A guy came and took her muzzle off and the handcuffs for the time being. Harper looked at Min-a and the other girls in the cabin before sitting on a bed somewhat in the corner and placing her heads into her knees.</s>	<\|message\|>Chris Daniels Being at the back of the line meant that Chris had a long time to dwell on his own thoughts and fears as he slowly made his way up the line. The silence in the room was almost unbearable for him. You hear every step every time a pair of handcuffs slightly clanking together. Moving his eyes ever so slightly Chris watched as the kids walked out of the rooms with some form of a colored x as well as some form of restraint. After what felt like an eternity Chirs stepped through the door inside what reminded him of a doctor's office albeit more ominous. Scanning the room quickly Chris noticed a table and some other equipment that he guessed was for him. "Chris Daniels Jr." Chris waited patiently as the young woman began to type away at the keyboard seemingly paying him no mind. Chris stared at the women for a brief second when he heard her ask about his powers and wanting to see it. Chris swore his heart rate skyrocketed at the demand coming from the doctor. He didn't expect anyone one especially the very people that were having kids like him under lock and key, to want him to use the power. What was worse was that he had no way of showing it without a live flame around him. "Sorry ma'am I can't do anything unless there is a live flame already," he said through a nervous voice. All Chris could do was pray that his inability to use his powers wasn't taken as an act of disobedience. Lucky for Chris however the woman merely gave out a small "mmh" before typing something else on her computer. After a tense few seconds, Chris received a large red X painted onto his back and a rather tight pair of handcuffs. Frowning at this Chris knew that this was probably his life now. As much as he hated it and even more so seeing those around him suffering as well he knew there wasn't much he could do. Moving inside the cabin he was supposed to stay in he was surprised to see he was one of the last ones in. He gave the other kids a small nod before sitting down on an unoccupied bed as he continued to stare at the cuffs around his hands.</s>
<\|description\|>Yulen Age: 15 Appearance: Standing at about 5'2" the young man still has some growing to do. Yulen has short black hair, hazel colored eyes, and somewhat defined features. His build is rather lean so to the untrained eye he appears rather weak. He has a somewhat tanned complexion from working out in the sun for long hours.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Despite his tunnel vision he was doing a remarkable job of not running into people or things. That said, he still was so close to actually touching them in some cases that he freaked a few people out. At least one lady fell backwards and one kid rolled out of the way, just in case. All the while he had yet to notice Quinn trying to get his attention. Before long though the beast decided on what it hoped was an effective escape route. The Cucco bolted for a small ledge that would be enough of a drop that could potentially hurt someone if they jumped off, but a feathered friend would be just fine. Yulen quickly saw through its scheme however. "Oh no you don't!" With a burst of speed he reached out and grabbed the chicken wanna-be by the leg as it tried to jump off. The Cucco flapped furiously to try and escape but Yulen held on firmly, not about to let the escapee get away. With all the energy in the thing though as it tried to break free, Yulen could feel he was dangerously close to slipping off the edge and taking a tumble. --- While all this commotion was transpiring, some of the townsfolk had gotten together to share stories and rumors. "I don't think I've seen a single Goron even on the Death Mountain Trail for around four months now. Sure they usually just stick to themselves but it's just strange." "Come to think of it I haven't seen that one guy who likes to visit from time to time. Can't remember his name...or are Gorons its?" "I'm more concerned about the trails recently, I occasionally like to find rare plants or barter for ore but a lot of skulltulas, tektites have popped up recently. I'm getting too scared to try and climb up the mountain anymore!" "Whatever happened to that man who went up a few months ago anyway?" "Who?" "You know that big fellow with that striking red hair!" "Oh him? Don't know but I think someone saw him head back down soon after. Certainly was a unique looking fellow." The townspeople chattered about their new troubles, and anything interesting that was going on in the village or in Hyrule. Though at the moment it was mostly discussions of things rather close to home.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen had to marvel a little about just how unfazed Quinn was about the whole ordeal. Despite the fall she seemed completely fine and wasn't even shaken up a bit, she must have nerves of steel, or perhaps ignorance. Well, everything was well so that was good. "Glad you weren't hurt at all. While I do have things I must get to, I can at least help you transport these ruffians to their holding cells." Yulen joked, referring to the Cuccos as criminals. "I'll take the other one for you. Here kid, hand that one over to me." The kid happily deposited the bird in his arms and then ran away to do whatever it was he wanted to do. Yulen looked menacing down at the bird but thankfully the bird had given up to its fate at this point. As they walked the birds to their pens, Yulen got to talking with the rather energetic Quinn. "Yep, I had just finished work for the day. While I am good enough to have the boss beg me to start full time, I have other duties to attend to which I can't ignore. I'm good at climbing, and good with tools so carpentry is rather easy for me but it will be never more than a side-job for me." Yulen looked at Quinn as they walked. She was a rather, fresh-faced individual who looked rather young, even child-like. She was a bit rounded but with strong, gray eyes and soft freckles that made her look like a picture of innocence. His first impressions of her was that she was honest and hearty, a kind but rambunctious soul. She was certainly someone who would add some color to the traditionally drab Kakariko Village. "You're fairly new around here, aren't you Quinn? What made you decide to move all the way out to our drab little village? Well, at least it was a drab little village years ago. Guess I can't really say that about this place anymore with all the new people moving in. I guess only a few years more before we become a bustling place on par with Castle Town."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn "Oh, thanks for the help!" Quinn told Yulen happily as he took the other remaining cucco. She began to walk with him back to the pen where all the other cuccos were, listening to what Yulen had to say about his current job. "Wow, you are lucky to be able to have a job that fits what you're good at!" Quinn exclaimed happily. "I hope I can find something I can do easily and get paid for it. Taking care of cuccos isn't really what I want to do anyway." She explained, eyeing the cucco she was holding with a sigh. After Yulen asked about her, Quinn thought for a moment. "Well, I moved to Kakariko with my mentor for just more opportunities. We couldn't do much in the countryside, since it's literally just us in a farm for a bunch of miles until you find civilization again. My mentor thought this would be a good learning experience for me. Or something like that anyway." Quinn got to the pen, opening the gate and lead Yulen to the pen where all the other cuccos were, already sitting in their nests. She placed the cucco she had in the pen, then took Yulen's cucco and placed it inside too. "Anyways, that's really all we're doing here. Just more opportunity. I'm learning a lot about being here, so it's working!" She said with a bright smile. "I haven't seen this many people in one place before. This is much more different than back at the ranch I used to live in. I can't wait to do more things once we get more settled." Quinn closed the pen, making sure it was properly closed so that the cuccos wouldn't get out again. "Well, thank you again for helping me. I hope I didn't take too much of your time. You've got stuff to do after this, don't you? What kind of stuff are you doing anyway?" Quinn asked Yulen with genuine curiosity. She didn't mean to intrude, but curiosity really did get the best of her at times.</s>	<\|message\|>Yulen Yulen listened as Quinn talked about her own life and how she had arrived with her mentor, which probably meant she was not living with relatives. Yulen couldn't help but think a little about his own mentor who he only got to see every few months. Of course he highly doubted their mentors were anything alike, in fact there was no way in Hyrule they were remotely similar. He was happy when Quinn took the Cucco from him, no longer would he have to feel its vile feathers in his arms. The Cucco did give him one last, evil glare, before proudly being placed in the pen. Soon enough, Quinn thanked him for his help and asked him another question. "Oh it was really no bother, happy to capture an escaped convict." He joked and took a last look at the Cucco, which merely ruffled its feathers and started cleaning itself. Looking away form the fowl, he thought about what he had to do after his part-time job. It wasn't something he was really supposed to talk about, but he could at least give her some basics. "What kind of stuff indeed, well let's just say I'm being trained in the family business, which is why I'm only a part-timer. I'd say what I do after work is about three times more tiring than my paid time! Unfortunately I just really be going-" Yulen was about to say his goodbyes when a large yell could be heard from the entrance to the village on the Death Mountain side. "PLEASE HELP ME! I'M SO HUNGRY! I NEED SOME ROCK SIRLOIN OR I'M GOING TO DIE!" Yulen turned toward the voice and the concerned voices of the guards floated in the air. "By the Goddess it's a goron! The first one to show up in four months!" "That is the skinniest goron I've ever seen, could he actually be starving?" "Don't they eat rocks? How could he be starving?" "I'm pretty sure not just any rock will do, crap he just collapsed, hurry and get a stretcher!" "What are you stupid!? Gorons are literally rock people, he's snap a stretcher like a twig with his weight alone! We'll need to get him on a sled or even just drag him with ropes if we have to!" What was a starving goron doing here? What in the world was happening on Death Mountain? Yulen cupped one of his ears to try and get a better read on the situation. He'd probably get in trouble for being late but this was something he couldn't ignore. "Well it was nice meeting you Quinn, I'm going to check out what's going on before I head to my training." With his piece said, Yulen headed over to the gate where the guards were trying to help get the goron into the village. Quite a bit was happening all of a sudden, things were certainly getting more interesting around the village.</s>
<\|description\|>Quinn Age: 14 Appearance: Quinn has short light brown hair with electric gray eyes that seem to be filled with energy. Her face was round while her body seemed to match (though it was hardier than it looks), making her look a bit younger than she actually was. Her skin was in between pale and tanned, with soft freckles across her cheeks and nose.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn With the big population boom happening in Kakariko Village, it was only natural that Quinn and her mentor had moved there as well. It seemed like a good idea, with more resources being put into the village, and there having more opportunity to do more than just sit around in the middle of nowhere. Quinn had to get used to everything first though. Being in the middle of nowhere was something she was used to, but this new environment consisting of much noise and bustling people? Not something she was able to get over in a day. Despite the uncomfortable settlement, Quinn had eventually gotten used to all the noise and chatter after working on the cucco farm that she and her mentor had been living in for a bit now. The girl had been out feeding the cuccos, throwing feed on the ground for them until she had decided to count them. "Oh no, not again!" She groaned as she found out that there was a few chickens missing. She made the remaining cuccos go into their coop before hopping over the fence and going around the village to look for the missing cuccos. There was probably only three missing, which wouldn't be such a big deal if there wasn't any construction going around. She needed to get them back fast before they caused trouble for the other villagers. Walking around the village, she found a stray cucco wandering around an empty corner of the village, carrying it back to her home and placing it into the coop with the others, continuing her search. There was was another cucco somewhere, and she could hear it leaving. Frowning to herself, she went on to keep looking, praying to the Goddess that it wasn't wandering around the construction site.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen "Everything secured up there!" Yulen's boss shouted as Yulen did the final checks of all the nails and attachments. "It's all good up here! Well I'll just be heading off for the day then!" "Ya ya, get going ya half-timer!" The boss grunted as he turned his attention to another project. "Done here for now, I'll need to complete my other chores quickly so I'll have some time too..." Yulen's voice trailed off as he heard some sort of a clucking sound coming from down below. He tried to look below but some of the scaffolding got in the way so it was a bit hard to tell from up above. Yulen quickly shimmied down like a trained acrobat to locate the source. He was quickly able to zero in on the sound and there was one of them. A cucco was busy inspecting all the boards in the house's frame, probably searching for insects or something while making its usual, annoying sounds. Yulen's eyebrows started to curl in annoyance, as a child he had had a rather...unfortunate encounter with a flock. It had scared him for years and while he was pretty much over it by now, he still harbored a bit of resentment. He crept up on the cucco, determined to make sure it couldn't mess up there work at all. The white feather ball clucked in happiness or perhaps boredom, as it sniffed around. Yulen crept up from behind a plank, and lunged for the creature. Perhaps sensing his annoyance, the clucker noticed his attempt to grab it and with a cry, bolted for the street. In its mad rush the cucco ran right into the legs of a laborer balancing a bunch of boards, which caused him to trip and collapse in a heap with the boards. "Come back here you feathered fiend!" Yulen gave chase to the fleeing poultry, determined to lock it up in its pen, wherever that was. Into the streets he chased after the cucco which had the advantage of being small and able to dart around people and objects to foil his attempts. Soon his focus was entirely on catching the blasted bird to prevent it from fowling up even more people's days. Soon everything else started to fade into the background as he grew tunnel vision in his quest as the bird was proving to be quite the adept runner.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn had been walking around, trying to look through every small space to see if the cucco was anywhere near there. After a while of searching, she was almost about to give up when she heard a commotion coming from the construction sites. Groaning loudly, she sprinted towards the source of the noise, soon finding Yulen running after the cucco that had escaped. "H-Hey, Yulen, wait!" She cried out, when another cucco had started running away too. Quinn squeaked at the sudden flurry of white, but immediately ran after the cucco. "Get back here! You can't be running around here, it's too dangerous!!" She shouted at the stray cucco, who was still running as fast as its short legs will allow. She ran after it, trying to be mindful of the workers and trying to get the cucco to steer away from them, until eventually, the cucco had gotten distracted and ran straight into a wall, falling flat on its back. Quinn gasped, swiftly running over and scooped it up. "Okay, now to get the other one.." She sighed, running over to find Yulen and the last cucco. She vaguely knew of Yulen's beef with the cuccos, but it became more prevalent as she saw the boy running after the last cucco at full speed, seeming to not pay any attention to his surroundings. "Yulen!" She tried to get his attention, running after the two in a chase.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Despite his tunnel vision he was doing a remarkable job of not running into people or things. That said, he still was so close to actually touching them in some cases that he freaked a few people out. At least one lady fell backwards and one kid rolled out of the way, just in case. All the while he had yet to notice Quinn trying to get his attention. Before long though the beast decided on what it hoped was an effective escape route. The Cucco bolted for a small ledge that would be enough of a drop that could potentially hurt someone if they jumped off, but a feathered friend would be just fine. Yulen quickly saw through its scheme however. "Oh no you don't!" With a burst of speed he reached out and grabbed the chicken wanna-be by the leg as it tried to jump off. The Cucco flapped furiously to try and escape but Yulen held on firmly, not about to let the escapee get away. With all the energy in the thing though as it tried to break free, Yulen could feel he was dangerously close to slipping off the edge and taking a tumble. --- While all this commotion was transpiring, some of the townsfolk had gotten together to share stories and rumors. "I don't think I've seen a single Goron even on the Death Mountain Trail for around four months now. Sure they usually just stick to themselves but it's just strange." "Come to think of it I haven't seen that one guy who likes to visit from time to time. Can't remember his name...or are Gorons its?" "I'm more concerned about the trails recently, I occasionally like to find rare plants or barter for ore but a lot of skulltulas, tektites have popped up recently. I'm getting too scared to try and climb up the mountain anymore!" "Whatever happened to that man who went up a few months ago anyway?" "Who?" "You know that big fellow with that striking red hair!" "Oh him? Don't know but I think someone saw him head back down soon after. Certainly was a unique looking fellow." The townspeople chattered about their new troubles, and anything interesting that was going on in the village or in Hyrule. Though at the moment it was mostly discussions of things rather close to home.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s>	<\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s>
<\|description\|>Quinn Age: 14 Appearance: Quinn has short light brown hair with electric gray eyes that seem to be filled with energy. Her face was round while her body seemed to match (though it was hardier than it looks), making her look a bit younger than she actually was. Her skin was in between pale and tanned, with soft freckles across her cheeks and nose.</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn watched in awe as Yulen was finally able to catch the cucco, even if it was only by the leg. She then realized that they were on a ledge and Yulen could be severely hurt if the cucco kept trying to fly out of his grasp with how energetic it was. The girl quickly ran over to where Yulen was, before remembering she still had a cucco in her arms. "Oh come on!" She cried out, running back to where some people were gathering, going to another farmhand, a young boy who was a few years younger than Quinn. "Hey kid, make yourself useful and help me take care of this cucco!" She exclaimed, handing him the cucco. The boy nodded and held on tightly to the bird, watching the girl run back to where Yulen was. Once she got close enough, she jumped over Yulen and grabbed the cucco, but overestimated her leap, and ended up slipping and falling over the edge with the cucco. Quinn screamed, but stopped once she heard the cucco freak out as well. Thinking fast, she grabbed onto the cucco's legs and held it over her head. With the cucco freaking out, it was flapping its wings like crazy, which slowed down their fall dramatically. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yulen. "Thanks for the help Yulen!" She called out on the way down. It took a few minutes, but eventually she made it down safely with the cucco. Once they had touched the ground, Quinn growled and started scolding the cucco. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU OUT!" She shouted at the cucco, who shrunk back into itself out of fear. "Once we get home, you are DEFINITELY in trouble!"</s> <\|message\|>Yulen The struggle was real as Yulen stubbornly held on to the cucco as it tried to escape but he was having none of that. He held on was tightly as he could, until he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon him. He looked up just in time to see someone literally jumping over him. "W-What?" He said in surprise and lost his grip on the bird which attempted to 'fly' away, but the person managed to grab the bird...and then fall off the ledge. Yulen fell on his butt when he let out of the bird and watched in horror as he watched the girl, who he know recognized as Quinn, a fairly new arrival to the expanding town, disappear over the edge. "Quinn!" He shouted as he scrambled over to the edge to see what had become of her, fearing the worst. As soon as he managed to look down though, he noticed Quinn gently descending down to the ground with a screaming cucco, shedding its feathers like crazy as it flapped like a headless chicken. Yulen gave a dry chuckle and a sign of relief as she touched down safely and looked back up him to thank him. "By the Goddesses, don't scare me like that." Yulen grumbled but couldn't help but smile as she started to scold the stupid bird. "That's what you get you stupid bird, I hope you get fried for supper." That complaint out of the way he decided it was best to go down and at least make sure she was alright. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time as he had other things to do, but well, it was kind of his fault he supposed that she had fallen over the ledge in the first place, even if she was the one to jump. Yulen, not wanting to make the extra effort, descended the ledge which was easy enough to do since he was no longer holding on to a feathered beast. "So that's your bird is it? Glad you've managed to wrangle the bugger in, still, do you like falling off ledges as a hobby?" Yulen joked as he tried to see if she was hurt at all. "That was rather reckless considering where we were."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn Quinn was holding onto the cucco, making sure that it was good in her grip. She was still scolding it, walking a bit as she made her way back, when she saw Yulen approach her. She smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. All the cuccos I was taking care of had escaped their fenced off area." Quinn explained, before laughing a bit at Yulen's question about falling over ledges. "Well, not like that, no. Especially with ledges. I overestimated how far I would actually jump right there. But hey, I figured out how not to get hurt, so that counts for something right? I'm smart sometimes!" Quinn gave him a big smile. "Thanks for helping me by the way. These cuccos can be a real handful sometimes." She sighed, patting the cucco she had on the head. "Were you just done with your construction job? I hope this bird didn't pull you out of work." Quinn said with a pout. "I've heard you were really good with construction. Is that true?" She asked curiously. She didn't really know Yulen that well, and he seemed like an interesting enough person that she would love to talk to more. Quinn was bored in her daily life to begin with, so being in a growing town definitely had its perks. "I won't take much out of your time though, I'm sure you're busy with things." She sighed eventually, looking over at the crowd that was quickly dispersing, with the boy still holding onto the other cucco. "I have to make sure all these cuccos are in their coop. Wouldn't want them getting out again."</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen had to marvel a little about just how unfazed Quinn was about the whole ordeal. Despite the fall she seemed completely fine and wasn't even shaken up a bit, she must have nerves of steel, or perhaps ignorance. Well, everything was well so that was good. "Glad you weren't hurt at all. While I do have things I must get to, I can at least help you transport these ruffians to their holding cells." Yulen joked, referring to the Cuccos as criminals. "I'll take the other one for you. Here kid, hand that one over to me." The kid happily deposited the bird in his arms and then ran away to do whatever it was he wanted to do. Yulen looked menacing down at the bird but thankfully the bird had given up to its fate at this point. As they walked the birds to their pens, Yulen got to talking with the rather energetic Quinn. "Yep, I had just finished work for the day. While I am good enough to have the boss beg me to start full time, I have other duties to attend to which I can't ignore. I'm good at climbing, and good with tools so carpentry is rather easy for me but it will be never more than a side-job for me." Yulen looked at Quinn as they walked. She was a rather, fresh-faced individual who looked rather young, even child-like. She was a bit rounded but with strong, gray eyes and soft freckles that made her look like a picture of innocence. His first impressions of her was that she was honest and hearty, a kind but rambunctious soul. She was certainly someone who would add some color to the traditionally drab Kakariko Village. "You're fairly new around here, aren't you Quinn? What made you decide to move all the way out to our drab little village? Well, at least it was a drab little village years ago. Guess I can't really say that about this place anymore with all the new people moving in. I guess only a few years more before we become a bustling place on par with Castle Town."</s> <\|message\|>Quinn "Oh, thanks for the help!" Quinn told Yulen happily as he took the other remaining cucco. She began to walk with him back to the pen where all the other cuccos were, listening to what Yulen had to say about his current job. "Wow, you are lucky to be able to have a job that fits what you're good at!" Quinn exclaimed happily. "I hope I can find something I can do easily and get paid for it. Taking care of cuccos isn't really what I want to do anyway." She explained, eyeing the cucco she was holding with a sigh. After Yulen asked about her, Quinn thought for a moment. "Well, I moved to Kakariko with my mentor for just more opportunities. We couldn't do much in the countryside, since it's literally just us in a farm for a bunch of miles until you find civilization again. My mentor thought this would be a good learning experience for me. Or something like that anyway." Quinn got to the pen, opening the gate and lead Yulen to the pen where all the other cuccos were, already sitting in their nests. She placed the cucco she had in the pen, then took Yulen's cucco and placed it inside too. "Anyways, that's really all we're doing here. Just more opportunity. I'm learning a lot about being here, so it's working!" She said with a bright smile. "I haven't seen this many people in one place before. This is much more different than back at the ranch I used to live in. I can't wait to do more things once we get more settled." Quinn closed the pen, making sure it was properly closed so that the cuccos wouldn't get out again. "Well, thank you again for helping me. I hope I didn't take too much of your time. You've got stuff to do after this, don't you? What kind of stuff are you doing anyway?" Quinn asked Yulen with genuine curiosity. She didn't mean to intrude, but curiosity really did get the best of her at times.</s> <\|message\|>Yulen Yulen listened as Quinn talked about her own life and how she had arrived with her mentor, which probably meant she was not living with relatives. Yulen couldn't help but think a little about his own mentor who he only got to see every few months. Of course he highly doubted their mentors were anything alike, in fact there was no way in Hyrule they were remotely similar. He was happy when Quinn took the Cucco from him, no longer would he have to feel its vile feathers in his arms. The Cucco did give him one last, evil glare, before proudly being placed in the pen. Soon enough, Quinn thanked him for his help and asked him another question. "Oh it was really no bother, happy to capture an escaped convict." He joked and took a last look at the Cucco, which merely ruffled its feathers and started cleaning itself. Looking away form the fowl, he thought about what he had to do after his part-time job. It wasn't something he was really supposed to talk about, but he could at least give her some basics. "What kind of stuff indeed, well let's just say I'm being trained in the family business, which is why I'm only a part-timer. I'd say what I do after work is about three times more tiring than my paid time! Unfortunately I just really be going-" Yulen was about to say his goodbyes when a large yell could be heard from the entrance to the village on the Death Mountain side. "PLEASE HELP ME! I'M SO HUNGRY! I NEED SOME ROCK SIRLOIN OR I'M GOING TO DIE!" Yulen turned toward the voice and the concerned voices of the guards floated in the air. "By the Goddess it's a goron! The first one to show up in four months!" "That is the skinniest goron I've ever seen, could he actually be starving?" "Don't they eat rocks? How could he be starving?" "I'm pretty sure not just any rock will do, crap he just collapsed, hurry and get a stretcher!" "What are you stupid!? Gorons are literally rock people, he's snap a stretcher like a twig with his weight alone! We'll need to get him on a sled or even just drag him with ropes if we have to!" What was a starving goron doing here? What in the world was happening on Death Mountain? Yulen cupped one of his ears to try and get a better read on the situation. He'd probably get in trouble for being late but this was something he couldn't ignore. "Well it was nice meeting you Quinn, I'm going to check out what's going on before I head to my training." With his piece said, Yulen headed over to the gate where the guards were trying to help get the goron into the village. Quite a bit was happening all of a sudden, things were certainly getting more interesting around the village.</s>	<\|message\|>Quinn Quinn laughed at what Yulen called the cucco, grinning. "Yeah, thanks for that!" She exclaimed, before she listened to him curiously as he explained vaguely about his plans after work. She pouted a bit with the vagueness, but ended up shrugging it off. It didn't seem too interesting anyway. "Right, sounds kinda important when you put it that way." Quinn then stretched, saying, "Well, I guess I should let you go-" The girl was soon startled by the sudden yelling. "H-Huh?! What's going on??" She asked, turning to where she heard the voices. Confused, Quinn blinked a few times before she grew more confused and worried. "What is a Goron?" She questioned, listening into the conversation a bit more to get some more information on this species. A rock person? A starving one? What even is a rock sirloin?? Quinn only grew more confused, even more so as Yulen said his goodbye quickly before joining with the others to help the so-called Goron. "H-Hey! Wait up!" Quinn called out after Yulen. If something was happening around here, she would like to go help as well. It wasn't like she was busy anyway. Going over to the group, Quinn reached to the gate as well and did her best to help everyone with the Goron. Wow, they really weren't kidding when they said this Goron could snap the stretcher! Grunting a bit, Quinn carried a bit of the Goron's weight. "How did this happen? How are we supposed to feed this goron?" She asked through gritted teeth.</s>
<\|description\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Appearance: Series of origin: Avatar: The Last Airbender Personality: Toph is fiercely independent , sarcastic, direct, stubborn, and confrontational. On top of this, she can be very carefree and adventurous. Toph loves fighting and has great pride in her earthbending skills, which can come off as arrogant more often than not. She usually faces problems head-on as that's just her style but she isn't totally opposed to using a different approach if she needs to. Abilities: Earthbending: From a very young age, Toph was trained in the arts of earthbending under the teachings of the badgermoles. Because of this, she was able to learn their unique ability of seismic sense. She has utilised this ability with her earthbending to 'feel' the vibrations in the earth. Through this heightened seismic sense, Toph can visualize where people are, find out their relative distance from her, and even get a rough idea on their build. However, one of her major flaws is that she relies on her seismic sense to 'see' by feeling vibrations in the earth, this makes her very vulnerable to air-based attacks. Toph's earthbending style is very unique and unpredictable, as her training was more unconventional and more deeply rooted into the nature of earthbending. This makes her superior to other earthbenders because of this and usually gives her an edge in a fight. Sandbending: Because sand is loose and ultimately always changing, Toph finds it difficult to navigate through and control. To compensate somewhat, Toph can condense the sand to give her better footing when she walks over it. However, she is not able to use sand as effectively in a fight like she can with earth and as such, is limited to how she can fight with it. Metalbending: Another one of Toph's abilities is that she is able to bend metal. Because of her ability to feel the vibrations in earth, Toph can locate impurities (small fragments of earth) within the metal and manipulate it, allowing her to "bend" the metal. However, just like sandbending, she isn't too proficient in the style and metalbending especially requires lots of concentration to use properly. It also has the added effect of draining her energy pretty rapidly so she can't use it too often anyway. Other Senses: Toph is blind and because of this, her other senses have been heightened. Her sense of touch and hearing being the most prominent examples. Her sense of touch allowing her to put her seismic sense to good use and her sense of hearing giving her the innate ability to hear things that normal people otherwise won't. She also never forgets someone's voice once she hears it. Weapons and equipment: N/A Character alignment: Chaotic Good Other: This is based off of Toph as she appears in the Avatar: The Last Airbender. --- --- Agent Carolina --- --- ---</s> <\|message\|>Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Ladybug End --- Ladybug and Cat Noir Location: Non-Futuristic City --- The two androids' cautious approach was met in kind, as Ladybug and Cat Noir landed on the ground in front of them, Yo-yo and Baton at the ready. "Fighting already?" Cat Noir playfully scoffed. "Guess it won't be too hard to get outta here!" But the other two lowered their weapons and explained themselves. It only served to make Ladybug and Cat Noir confused. "Humans? On the moon? I mean, sometimes astronauts are sent there, but..." Ladybug shook her head and relaxed, dropping her battle-ready stance. "I guess that's not so important right now. We're as clueless as you two are, probably, we just woke up. My name is Ladybug, and this--" Cat Noir sprung forward, closing the distance between them and giving an incredibly theatrical bow. "Cat Noir, at your service!" He raised himself back up with a smirk. "What's up with these floating box things?" He asked, prodding at one of the Pods with his staff.</s> <\|message\|>Benjamin Kirby Tennyson --- --- --- --- LOCATION: DESERT --- This was strange. Way too strange. What even is this place? As Ben soared the skies all he could see was this strange patchwork job of a world in front of him. Whenever Ben first got here, he figured he was flung into the Mad Ben world or something. At this point, he wished that was the truth. Whoever made this place must have been on something crazy. But just who could have made this? Well, a Celestialsapien could make this, but all they do is think all day. They wouldn't just go rogue... right? Besides, if a Celestialsapien made this, it would probably look a lot more organized. This was a mess. Some places make sense for them to be there, others didn't. Why were there perfectly good parts of the city right next to completely ruined one's? And why did Bellwood spawn in the middle of a desert? The more he flew, and the more he thought, the more confused he became. Nothing was making sense. As he flew over the burning desert, Ben started to feel a bit uneasy. Was this really the right thing to do? Was there anything else he could do first? This foreign world was messing with his head. Maybe he should have looked around it more in Bellwood, or maybe pick the faster alien than Astrodactyl, or just something. But the top it off, it's almost as if this desert goes on forever. Hopefully, there will be something around here soon- Ben looks down, squinting his eyes. Maybe not something... but someone? He slows to a stop a few meters above the girl. Her blank expression was giving him creepy vibes. And what in the world was she wearing? He guesses she must know what she's doing, considering that the outfit looked a lot more fit this kind of weather. She didn't seem to notice him at all, though. He ponders for a second if he should try to get her to notice him first or not... Oh well, go big or go home. Ben lands in front of her, confidently posing in a heroic fashion. "Greetings young lady, squawk! How are you on this lovely day?" The "young lady" in question jumped back a few feet, obviously startled at Ben's presence. This itself was strange, everyone under and above the sun knew who Ben was and all of his aliens. Yet, this girl acted like she's never seen anything extra-terrestrial before. Oh boy, Ben thought to himself, this is gonna be a long day... --- ---</s> <\|message\|>YoRHa No.2 Type B, 2B Current Location: City Interacting With: Ladybug and Cat Noir @TruthHurts22 Current Token Count: 5 "Hm. Glad we're not the only ones at a loss here." 2B said to Ladybug. The other masked girl expressed confusion at the mention of humans residing on the moon. Were these two left behind? Or is this a part of the "multiverse" theories human scientists studied? Either way, it seemed best to explain what the androids meant. Though they quickly took a step back when Cat Noir introduced himself after Ladybug with style. When he asked about the pods, 9S was first to speak. "Oh, these are our Support Pods, 042 and 153. They were assigned to us for our recon missions." the scanner explained, pod 153 moving out of the way of being poked. "They also serve as our ranged weapons, but I guess we left the rest of their program chips back at camp." Pod 042 then displayed a hologram, showing a small summary of the war against machines. "Long ago, aliens and their machines had invaded Earth. As much as humans fought back, they were driven from their homes to reside in the moon. Soon enough, the Council of Humanity was established, and with it came YorRHa." the battler explained along with the hologram. "We YoRHa units were made to combat the machines, so that one day, this war might end. However, for many years, we've been stuck in a stalemate, and there has been no sign of our other adversaries." "Until we found out that the machines had evolved. Eventually killing their alien masters." 9S continued. "Somehow, we ended up fighting a pair of twin machines advanced enough to match us androids, appearance and combat wise." Once they finished, Pod 042 turned off the hologram. "It's...pretty complicated now that I think about it. Most machines we faced just tried to mimic humans, but yeah. We're trying to get back before anything bad happens. Or we get excommunicated as deserters."</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Ruins Dante slowly started stepping towards the demons in a nonchalant manner. He knew these guys in and out, so he figured he would wait for them to make the first move. The first one struck, a Hell's Pride with a downward diagonal slash of it's scythe. However, before it could even bring the scythe down far enough, Dante already whipped out his pistol and shot it in the stomach. Hah, too slow. As the Hell's Pride fell lifeless to the ground, Dante continued his casual walk towards the rest of the demons without missing a step, as if the Hell's Pride hadn't even attacked him at all The next Hell's Pride came at him from the left, delivering an underhanded swipe of it's own scythe. In one smooth motion, Dante immediately dodged the slash with a casual sidestep, leaving him now standing behind the demon, and playfully tapped in on the shoulder. The Hell's Pride quickly swung the scythe in Dante's direction again, the inertia of the scythe swing turning its body towards Dante. Dante immediately saw the swing and reacted by making a quick leap into the air before the scythe could reach him. He then landed on the handle of the scythe as the demon finished its swing and stood on it for a second. "From here, you can get a great look at my boots!" Dante said right before performing a forward spinning kick straight into the demon's face. The Hell's Pride was launched backwards and landed unconscious about 10 feet away from Dante, who himself landed on his feet and continued his way towards the demon horde. Piece of cake The final Hell's Pride came rushing at him from the right and made a swift sideways strike at chest level. Dante countered with his sword, and 2 blades immediately clashed together. Sparks flew as Dante ground his sword against the scythe, pushing it in just a way in an attempt disarm the Hell's Pride. It worked, and as the scythe flew out of the demon's hands, Dante made a series of fast sword slashes of his own across its chest. He finished flurry of attacks with an upward swing, which launched the Hell's Pride straight into the air. Before the Hell's Pride landed, Dante then pulled out his second pistol and unloaded a storm of bullets into it. As it got shot it flew even farther in the air, the force of the constant barrage of bullets keeping it in the air, and then finally landed a bloody, bullet riddled mess of a corpse Dante turned to face the final demons and held out his arms in a 'come at me' kind of pose. "If that's the best you got, this'll last all of 30 seconds!" Dante bragged with a smirk of confidence on his face. However, as he spoke he was blindsided by the feeling of a fireball hitting him from behind. As he staggered forward, he quickly turned around to get a look at the assailant. It was one of those other demons that came out of the portal, one of the ones from Doom Slayer's world. Well, Dante presumed they were anyway. It looked faster, more crazy and aggressive than the ones Dante was used to fighting. Suddenly, Dante's mind flashed back to the beginning of the fight, remembering when Doom Slayer put away his shotgun, and had an idea. Before he could do anything however, the strange demon had already closed the distance between the 2 and made a swipe at him. Dante quickly shifted his torso to the side to dodge it at the last second, and then turned towards Doom Slayer. "Yo, crazy soldier guy! Toss me that shotgun! Y'know, the one you aren't using!" Dante shouted across the battlefield to Doom Slayer. Dante figured he could probably take this thing on his own, but where was the fun in that? ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City It looked like the troops weren't backing down, and were insisting that he should drop his weapons. Chief had already made up his mind that wasn't gonna happen, and he didn't like the idea of a fight but he had no idea who these guys were and he wasn't willing to put his trust in a squad of soldiers who immediately aim their weapons at him, especially in the place he was in right now. Waiting any longer was just delaying the inevitable Chief fired the first shot, a well aimed three round burst at the hands of the front soldier in the group. As he fired the shots, he quickly started taking steps backwards, both to make him a harder target to hit as well as to make his way towards the air conditioning unit behind him for cover</s>	<\|message\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Skulduggery Pleasant&Valkyrie Cain Location - Snowy Forest --- Skulduggery kept his gun aimed at the strange man, who he now knew as Inosuke Hasibira. He found the name a little strange but it wasn't quite the weirdest he had heard in his time. Valkyrie had picked herself up off the ground and stood beside Skulduggery. She was somewhat annoyed at being attacked for no reason, especially by some guy wearing a boar mask over his head. "Are you going to shoot him?" Valkyrie quietly whispered to Skulduggery. The Skeleton Detective turned to his partner upon hearing this question. "Most likely not. Why, did you want to use that new power of yours?" Valkyrie gave him a little nod and stepped forward towards Inosuke, white lighting beginning to crackle in her hands and without a second wasted, she shot the lighting out at their boar-masked attacker. Toph Beifong Location: Desert --- Toph, as usual, was finding it rather difficult to move in this desert sand. She tried making it easier on herself by condensing the sand so he could walk on it without worrying about falling over. Suddenly, she heard the noise of something landing in front of her followed by a voice. The voice did not sound like anyone she has heard before and her immediate reaction was to jump back and get into a fighting stance just in case things turned out bad. Though Toph knew that if things did turn into a fight, she would most certainly be at a disadvantage because of the current terrain. "Who are you? Why do you sound like that?" Toph asked, confused on why whoever she was talking to squawked like a bird. Vader's Fist Location: City - Office Building --- Before the troopers could get close enough to Chief, the squad leader had his weapon shot out of his hands. The Commander noticed this hostile action and ordered his troops to open fire. "Take him out!" Blaster shots zoomed through the air as the stormtroopers tried to hit their enemy. They couldn't quite get a clear shot on Chief by the way he was moving and soon enough, he had taken cover behind an air conditioning unit. The troopers recomposed themselves and slowly begun moving towards where they last saw their enemy.</s>
<\|description\|>Inosuke Hashibira Appearance: Series of origin: Kimetsu No Yaiba: Demon Slayer Personality: Excruciatingly proud and short fused, Inosuke Hashibura likes to believe he's the greatest fighter in any situation, and will often express that by challenging anything and anyone he comes across, typically overestimating his own skill, and underestimating his target of attack. Inosuke was raised by boars as a child, leading him to posses very little social grace, or understanding of most human customs. Due to this, he's quite curious in sometimes an invasive way. Despite all this, he means well. Usually. Abilities: Enhanced Sense Of Touch: Growing up in the mountains caused Inosuke to develop a sharp and incredibly sensitive sense of touch. He can feel the slightest vibrations in the air, and tell if anyone is looking at him, especially if they have any hostile intentions. Flexibility: He's very flexible, to the point where he's capable of bending backwards far enough that his head can reach between his feet, or dislocate any joint at will. Poison Resistance: Inosuke is capable of resisting and surviving most strong poisons, however, he's not exactly immune. This also poses the problem of many medicines not working on him. Weapons and equipment: Inosuke wields two serrated, silver, saw like swords, which he wraps in cloth when not in use. They're forged from Nichirin ore, a metal that absorbs sunlight, which assists in the vanquishing of Demons. Character alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: ★Inosuke often wears a hollowed out wild boar mask, which conceals his considerably feminine face. He's very protective of it. ☆He has a monster appetite. He's almost always hungry, and will never turn down the prospect of food. ★His catchphrase? PIG ASSAULT! Name: Yugi Tsukasa Appearance: Series of origin: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: Toilet Bound Hanako-kun Personality: Cheerful and quite immature, Tsukasa is the definition of a typical slasher smile killer. Despite his excitable qualities, Tsukasa is capable of extreme acts pf violence, without a drop of remorse. Fizzy and enigmatic, it's hard to decipher what drives him. Tsukasa is extremely manipulative, and likes to figure out what makes people tick, to pull at it until they do what he wants. Typically when he does something, it's for him to get his way, and to the benefit of no one else. Controlling and sociopathic, Tsukasa derives happiness from seeing any form of painful and distraught expression on other's faces. Abilities: Ghost: Tsukasa is a relatively low-level spirit-- normally, the most he can do is float around 7 to 8 inches off the ground. However, he can use particular supernatural powers for about 3 seconds, at the cost of a significant cooldown period, depending on which power used and the duration of use. Kokujoudai: Tsukasa controls two Kokujoudai, which can perform a series of tasks. He can transform them into black origami cranes to spy on others, use them to alter his outfit, or use them to do basic bashing attacks, which he typically doesn't do. They tend to float harmlessly around him, as he's only able to use their abilities for the aformentioned 3 seconds. Weapons and equipment: As stated above, Tsukasa controls two black Kokuoudai. They usually take form of two black spheres with a never static tail like tendril at the top. He typically uses his hands to do anything, however sometimes he'll use a pen, or another object on hand depending on what he's attacking. Character alignment: Chaotic Evil Other: ★Tsukasa tends to try and physically gut things that get in his way. ☆His main attacking methods are slamming his victims heads into a hard surface, typically to give them a concussion, or knock them out, or the aforementioned: gutting. ★His favorite thing is his twin brother, Amane!</s> <\|message\|>Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Ladybug --- Hawk Moth and Mayura Location: Medieval Castle --- The first to wake up was Gabriel. He picked himself up from the cold stone floor of the castle, groggy and holding his head. "Aaagh... where am I?" He looked around, trying to get his bearings, only to find his faithful assistant lying just a few feet away. "Nathalie!" Gabriel rushed to Nathalie's side, rousing her awake as he helped her up. "Nathalie, are you okay? Are you hurt?" "No, sir, I-I'm fine." Nathalie brushed the dirt from her clothes before moving to do the same for Gabriel. She stopped herself short, however, and slowly brought her arms back to her sides. "Is this the doing of an Akuma, sir?" Gabriel brought a hand to his chin. "Possibly, although I don't remember creating one, nor being targeted..." As the two mulled over their situation, an electronic tone sounded - Nathalie's phone. She fished it from her pocket and, reading it over, pointed the message at Gabriel. "It seems as if something else is responsible for this," she said. "'Crossroad', 'tokens', this is all too much for just one Akuma." "Hmm." Gabriel looked at his feet. Two small stacks of poker-chip-like tokens sat on the floor, purple and blue, one for both of them. He knelt down to collect his five, and handed Nathalie's to her. "One hundred tokens for a wish." He paused to inspect the tokens before a smile spread on his face. "This is it, Nathalie. No more chasing after Ladybug and Cat Noir. This is our big break!" Nathalie offered Gabriel a warm smile and closed her fist around her tokens. "Well, then, how should we start?" --- Ladybug and Cat Noir Location: City - Rooftops --- Meanwhile, a young girl found herself waking up on a tall building's roof. She didn't panic right away, though; instead, she yawned and stretched as if she were simply getting out of bed. A second to take in her surroundings, though, made her jolt right onto her feet. "Waaah! Who, what, where-- how did I get up here?!" She scrambled to the edge of the roof, peering over the lip for a split second, before throwing herself back to more-or-less safety. "This isn't Paris! It must be Hawk Moth's doing. Tikki?" Marinette opened her small purse, and out from inside floated the little ladybug kwami herself, yawning as well. "Yaaaaawhh... What's wrong, Marinette?" "I don't know, but we have to figure it out! Tikki, Spots On!" As soon as she turned into Ladybug, the heroine brought her Yo-yo up and flipped it open like a phone. "Let's see if Cat Noir picks up... wait, what?" The first thing on her tool's screen was a message, not one she opened, detailing the rules of the Crossroads. She was even more confused than before. "Tokens? Is this some kind of weird game?" "If it is, we're a shoo-in to beat it!" Cat Noir leaped onto the roof right then, nearly scaring Ladybug clear off. "Thought I heard your sweet voice, milady! Lucky you, you wouldn't have been able to handle yourself if you got taken here by yourself." Cat Noir leaned on his staff, flashing Ladybug with his trademark grin. It took all of Marinette's will to not roll her eyes. "Please, you're the lucky one here. You're useless without me, like a cat in the rain." Cat Noir did roll his eyes, letting the jab roll off him. "I've been awake for a few minutes now, and nothing's tried to take my Miraculous, so I don't think Hawk Moth has anything to do with this. Maybe it's one of those hidden camera reality shows?" Cat Noir looked around, smiling at any place he thought a camera could be hiding. "Hmm, maybe. But stay on your guard, we can't be sure of anything yet." "Some reconnaissance then, milady?" Marinette nodded, and the two leaped from the roof, swinging and vaulting to the streets below!</s> <\|message\|>Steven Quartz Cutie-Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe --- --- LOCATION: New Berk --- Steven, unable to muster up the gall to speak over the obviously-excited Hiccup, nodded and listened as the Chief of Berk gently nudged him forward and started a little tour of the village. It wasn't even that Steven was afraid of talking over him, more just.. He didn't want to. It was rude, and.. Hiccup apparently had even less of an idea as Steven did. He didn't want to burst Hiccup's bubble just yet, cause it felt.. Mean. At the same time though, maybe Hiccup did know, and maybe he was just in denial? This little village, as cute and cozy as it seemed, it felt.. Dead. Not like the people were lying around dead or dying or anything, but there was nothing going on. The air was eerily still, and it looked like everyone had to leave in a hurry. It was like they didn't even have time to pack their things. Candles looked like they were still burning in some windows, but there was no movement beyond the flickers of candlelight, no noise aside from himself, Hiccup, and Toothless the dragon here. Like, how did Hiccup not feel it too? It was as quiet here as it was in that that little patch of forest he woke up in- Well, until the silence was torn to shreds by an absolutely horrible, crying sort of roar. It sounded far away but entirely too close all at once, and the ground felt like it trembled from the sound. He looked at Hiccup and Toothless, who both looked just as shocked as Steven did - maybe even more so, somehow. Once again using his powers without trying to explaining himself first, Steven jumped up much higher than a regular human should be capable of, zipping up and over the tree line in an attempt to spot what giant beast might've made that noise.. Instead, he was greeted with the onset of night and a light snowfall. Wherever the source of that sound was, it was far enough away to not be of immediate concern... Not that Steven wasn't concerned anyway, but.. It wasn't as pressing. He let himself drop down a bit faster, landing with a bit of a huff and a wince - that was a bit too fast. He righted himself, and then looked back to Hiccup and Toothless. No matter their expressions, Steven's words were the same. "Well, uh, at least whatever made that noise isn't anywhere close, right?" --- ---</s> <\|message\|>YoRHa No.2 Type B, 2B Current Location: City Interacting With: Ladybug and Cat Noir @TruthHurts22 Current Token Count: 5 Without any other terminals in the area, 2B and 9S were forced to explore the city blind. No puns intended. So far, they haven't run into any hostiles, or machines luckly. Though, what if they ran into any humans? The thought hadn't really crossed the androids minds till later. Neither of them were sure what to do if they had to face a human. They were designed to protect and obey their human masters, after all. `"Alert: Two unknown lifeforms approaching."` Once Pod-042 spoke up, the androids noticed two figures zipping down from the rooftops near them. Cautious, they slowly approached the other pair, readying their weapons until they realized something. They were humans. Just as the androids feared. "Ah, sorry! We thought you were machines or something..." 9S apologized to Ladybug and Cat Noir, putting his sword aside. "It's rare for us to see humans not on the moon. I'm 9S, and this is 2B!" the scanner introduced himself and his companion to them. "Do you have any idea why we're here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Inosuke Hashibira Tsukasa Location: Futuristic City --- Tsukasa's eyes widened. He's awake! Pupils constricting to excited pinpoints, the spirit giggled when Lucifer batted his hand away, clicking the pen closed and slipping it back into his pocket. Tsukasa shimmied back away from him a pace, smiling to himself as he rested his cheek in one of his palms, getting a closer look at the man in front of him. He had a weird energy about him, something the noirette couldn't exactly put a name to. He seemed fun to annoy, though. Whoever it was, they spoke in a weird dialect, and Tsukasa simply stared at him with an open mouthed smile, inhumanly sharp canines glistening in the dark as he tried to process what he just said. "...Oh!" He chirped. Bringing both index fingers up to press into the dimples below his cheekbones, Tsukasa continued. "I'm Yugi Tsukasa! I saw you just laying here, and I thought you were dead or something! I wanted to double check, though. Guess you're not! This doesn't seem like a great place to sleep, though. Anyway, who exactly are you?" The boy tilted his head, a thin smile on his face as he dropped his hands to rest in his lap again. --- INOSUKE Location: Snowy Forest --- What the hell just happened? Inosuke barely stopped himself from faceplanting in the snow, managing to right himself at the last second, still landing a little clumsily, however. Turning a solid 180, Inosuke's gaze dropped to the gun, towards the girl, and back to the gun again before finally raising his eyes to meet Skulduggery's behind the blank stare of his mask. Dropping his swords, Inosuke brought both his arms up, crossing one over the other, with both thumbs pointed toward himself. "Inosuke Hashibira! Don't you forget it, Skull Face! And you, girl! Stand and face me! I'll defeat both of you!" He crowed, lowering ever so slightly to pick up his swords, holding the blades aimed behind him, but muscles taut and ready for a fight.</s>
<\|description\|>Inosuke Hashibira Appearance: Series of origin: Kimetsu No Yaiba: Demon Slayer Personality: Excruciatingly proud and short fused, Inosuke Hashibura likes to believe he's the greatest fighter in any situation, and will often express that by challenging anything and anyone he comes across, typically overestimating his own skill, and underestimating his target of attack. Inosuke was raised by boars as a child, leading him to posses very little social grace, or understanding of most human customs. Due to this, he's quite curious in sometimes an invasive way. Despite all this, he means well. Usually. Abilities: Enhanced Sense Of Touch: Growing up in the mountains caused Inosuke to develop a sharp and incredibly sensitive sense of touch. He can feel the slightest vibrations in the air, and tell if anyone is looking at him, especially if they have any hostile intentions. Flexibility: He's very flexible, to the point where he's capable of bending backwards far enough that his head can reach between his feet, or dislocate any joint at will. Poison Resistance: Inosuke is capable of resisting and surviving most strong poisons, however, he's not exactly immune. This also poses the problem of many medicines not working on him. Weapons and equipment: Inosuke wields two serrated, silver, saw like swords, which he wraps in cloth when not in use. They're forged from Nichirin ore, a metal that absorbs sunlight, which assists in the vanquishing of Demons. Character alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: ★Inosuke often wears a hollowed out wild boar mask, which conceals his considerably feminine face. He's very protective of it. ☆He has a monster appetite. He's almost always hungry, and will never turn down the prospect of food. ★His catchphrase? PIG ASSAULT! Name: Yugi Tsukasa Appearance: Series of origin: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: Toilet Bound Hanako-kun Personality: Cheerful and quite immature, Tsukasa is the definition of a typical slasher smile killer. Despite his excitable qualities, Tsukasa is capable of extreme acts pf violence, without a drop of remorse. Fizzy and enigmatic, it's hard to decipher what drives him. Tsukasa is extremely manipulative, and likes to figure out what makes people tick, to pull at it until they do what he wants. Typically when he does something, it's for him to get his way, and to the benefit of no one else. Controlling and sociopathic, Tsukasa derives happiness from seeing any form of painful and distraught expression on other's faces. Abilities: Ghost: Tsukasa is a relatively low-level spirit-- normally, the most he can do is float around 7 to 8 inches off the ground. However, he can use particular supernatural powers for about 3 seconds, at the cost of a significant cooldown period, depending on which power used and the duration of use. Kokujoudai: Tsukasa controls two Kokujoudai, which can perform a series of tasks. He can transform them into black origami cranes to spy on others, use them to alter his outfit, or use them to do basic bashing attacks, which he typically doesn't do. They tend to float harmlessly around him, as he's only able to use their abilities for the aformentioned 3 seconds. Weapons and equipment: As stated above, Tsukasa controls two black Kokuoudai. They usually take form of two black spheres with a never static tail like tendril at the top. He typically uses his hands to do anything, however sometimes he'll use a pen, or another object on hand depending on what he's attacking. Character alignment: Chaotic Evil Other: ★Tsukasa tends to try and physically gut things that get in his way. ☆His main attacking methods are slamming his victims heads into a hard surface, typically to give them a concussion, or knock them out, or the aforementioned: gutting. ★His favorite thing is his twin brother, Amane!</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Ruins Dante slowly started stepping towards the demons in a nonchalant manner. He knew these guys in and out, so he figured he would wait for them to make the first move. The first one struck, a Hell's Pride with a downward diagonal slash of it's scythe. However, before it could even bring the scythe down far enough, Dante already whipped out his pistol and shot it in the stomach. Hah, too slow. As the Hell's Pride fell lifeless to the ground, Dante continued his casual walk towards the rest of the demons without missing a step, as if the Hell's Pride hadn't even attacked him at all The next Hell's Pride came at him from the left, delivering an underhanded swipe of it's own scythe. In one smooth motion, Dante immediately dodged the slash with a casual sidestep, leaving him now standing behind the demon, and playfully tapped in on the shoulder. The Hell's Pride quickly swung the scythe in Dante's direction again, the inertia of the scythe swing turning its body towards Dante. Dante immediately saw the swing and reacted by making a quick leap into the air before the scythe could reach him. He then landed on the handle of the scythe as the demon finished its swing and stood on it for a second. "From here, you can get a great look at my boots!" Dante said right before performing a forward spinning kick straight into the demon's face. The Hell's Pride was launched backwards and landed unconscious about 10 feet away from Dante, who himself landed on his feet and continued his way towards the demon horde. Piece of cake The final Hell's Pride came rushing at him from the right and made a swift sideways strike at chest level. Dante countered with his sword, and 2 blades immediately clashed together. Sparks flew as Dante ground his sword against the scythe, pushing it in just a way in an attempt disarm the Hell's Pride. It worked, and as the scythe flew out of the demon's hands, Dante made a series of fast sword slashes of his own across its chest. He finished flurry of attacks with an upward swing, which launched the Hell's Pride straight into the air. Before the Hell's Pride landed, Dante then pulled out his second pistol and unloaded a storm of bullets into it. As it got shot it flew even farther in the air, the force of the constant barrage of bullets keeping it in the air, and then finally landed a bloody, bullet riddled mess of a corpse Dante turned to face the final demons and held out his arms in a 'come at me' kind of pose. "If that's the best you got, this'll last all of 30 seconds!" Dante bragged with a smirk of confidence on his face. However, as he spoke he was blindsided by the feeling of a fireball hitting him from behind. As he staggered forward, he quickly turned around to get a look at the assailant. It was one of those other demons that came out of the portal, one of the ones from Doom Slayer's world. Well, Dante presumed they were anyway. It looked faster, more crazy and aggressive than the ones Dante was used to fighting. Suddenly, Dante's mind flashed back to the beginning of the fight, remembering when Doom Slayer put away his shotgun, and had an idea. Before he could do anything however, the strange demon had already closed the distance between the 2 and made a swipe at him. Dante quickly shifted his torso to the side to dodge it at the last second, and then turned towards Doom Slayer. "Yo, crazy soldier guy! Toss me that shotgun! Y'know, the one you aren't using!" Dante shouted across the battlefield to Doom Slayer. Dante figured he could probably take this thing on his own, but where was the fun in that? ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City It looked like the troops weren't backing down, and were insisting that he should drop his weapons. Chief had already made up his mind that wasn't gonna happen, and he didn't like the idea of a fight but he had no idea who these guys were and he wasn't willing to put his trust in a squad of soldiers who immediately aim their weapons at him, especially in the place he was in right now. Waiting any longer was just delaying the inevitable Chief fired the first shot, a well aimed three round burst at the hands of the front soldier in the group. As he fired the shots, he quickly started taking steps backwards, both to make him a harder target to hit as well as to make his way towards the air conditioning unit behind him for cover</s> <\|message\|>Toph "The Blind Bandit" Beifong Skulduggery Pleasant&Valkyrie Cain Location - Snowy Forest --- Skulduggery kept his gun aimed at the strange man, who he now knew as Inosuke Hasibira. He found the name a little strange but it wasn't quite the weirdest he had heard in his time. Valkyrie had picked herself up off the ground and stood beside Skulduggery. She was somewhat annoyed at being attacked for no reason, especially by some guy wearing a boar mask over his head. "Are you going to shoot him?" Valkyrie quietly whispered to Skulduggery. The Skeleton Detective turned to his partner upon hearing this question. "Most likely not. Why, did you want to use that new power of yours?" Valkyrie gave him a little nod and stepped forward towards Inosuke, white lighting beginning to crackle in her hands and without a second wasted, she shot the lighting out at their boar-masked attacker. Toph Beifong Location: Desert --- Toph, as usual, was finding it rather difficult to move in this desert sand. She tried making it easier on herself by condensing the sand so he could walk on it without worrying about falling over. Suddenly, she heard the noise of something landing in front of her followed by a voice. The voice did not sound like anyone she has heard before and her immediate reaction was to jump back and get into a fighting stance just in case things turned out bad. Though Toph knew that if things did turn into a fight, she would most certainly be at a disadvantage because of the current terrain. "Who are you? Why do you sound like that?" Toph asked, confused on why whoever she was talking to squawked like a bird. Vader's Fist Location: City - Office Building --- Before the troopers could get close enough to Chief, the squad leader had his weapon shot out of his hands. The Commander noticed this hostile action and ordered his troops to open fire. "Take him out!" Blaster shots zoomed through the air as the stormtroopers tried to hit their enemy. They couldn't quite get a clear shot on Chief by the way he was moving and soon enough, he had taken cover behind an air conditioning unit. The troopers recomposed themselves and slowly begun moving towards where they last saw their enemy.</s> <\|message\|>The Doctor (real name unknown) _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Location: City Chief watched as the troops opened fire on him and the shots got absorbed by his suit's energy shield. His shields were dropping fast, he had to move quickly. He finally dove behind the air conditioning unit after 3 seconds and hunkered down behind it, reloading his battle rifle and watching his shield indicator on his HUD As he waited for the shield indicator to fill back up, he noticed something: their weapons were using energy. Chief was somewhat familiar with energy based weapons for human troops, but most of them were high powered heavy artillery. He had never seen or even heard of any standard issue human rifles that used energy based ammunition before, especially like the ones these troops were using. And were they laser or plasma? Chief couldn't tell because they flew through the air and didn't appear instantaneously, much like plasma rounds, but at the same time they sure did have the appearance of laser based ammunition. Chief had no idea how to assess these troops Chief felt like maybe the odds were maybe a little less in his favor than he thought. He looked down at the token in his left hand and thought, maybe it was time to make the odds a little more even. He clutched the tokens in his left hand as he raised them up. "A squad of ODSTs in drop pods" Chief said fairly loudly, but not loud enough to hear over the blaster fire. Chief felt the tokens in his hands slowly deteriorate into shapeless smoke before fading away entirely A couple seconds passed and nothing seemed to happen. Chief was wondering maybe the tokens were just fake and didn't actually do anything, but then he soon caught something out of the corner of his eye (as well as the troopers if they were paying attention). In the sky, there were 5 mysterious silhouettes flying down in the direction of the building at an alarmingly fast speed. As they flew closer more detailing could be seen, appearing to be some kind of metallic pods. Closer and closer the flew before all of them finally impacting on the roof of the building with a series of loud 'CRASHES' and debris flying everywhere. As the dust settled, the troopers would be able to see them in clear detail. Each pod was oblong shaped and about double the size of a human. They appeared to have some kind of hatches on them, indicating the pods were holding something inside</s>	<\|message\|>Inosuke Hashibira Tsukasa Location: Futuristic City --- Tsukasa simply hummed and nodded as the other spoke, gaze following where Lucifer's finger pointed over his shoulder, blinking owlishly at the battered apartment building. Turning back his attention on the man, one of the ghoulish black orbs drifted away from his side, nosing through the rubble, before it vanished into the building. The supernatural lowered his arms back to his side, drawing his shoulders up in a languid shrug. "I'm just curious, I suppose. Amane always did call me nosy. Furthering that thought-- You aren't human, are you? There's no way a normal mortal would have survived, well, falling through an apartment building. What are you?" --- INOSUKE Location: Snowy Forest --- Inosuke grinned at the growing promise of a fight,-- he'd finally goaded someone into one! It's been so long! --dropping into his typical low to the ground attack crouch, flipping his blades to face the two. The two conversed for a second, frustrating Inosuke, before the girl finally shot a blast of lighting at him. What the hell? Was she a demon or something? Taken off guard, the masked man barely managed to dodge the attack, sandals slipping on the snow as he darted out of the way. "The hell was that?" Dropping himself low again, Inosuke propelled himself in their direction, tipping the back of his blade in the girl's direction and making a swipe for her ankles in an attempt to put her off balance, wary of the man and his gun. Maybe if he could unbalance her, he could use that to shove her in the skull faced man's direction, and stagger him too! He's a genius! "I like you two! You both make me have to think!" He cackled.</s>
<\|description\|>Maya Dozier Maya Dozier --- Essentials Nickname(s): Doz Gender: Female Age: 23 Birthday: June 15 Affiliation: None, yet Written Appearance: Maya stands at a height of 5'6 with an athletic figure. Often seen holding herself with confidence, she seems much taller than she is. During casual situations, her red hair is usually let loose. However, when she is on her job, she ties it back so that it's less of a hindrance. Her body is filled with scars both monsters and accident inflicted, but she carries them with a certain amount of pride as well. --- --- Personal Personality: A thrill seeker through and through, Maya would risk both life and limb for a little excitement in her life. She takes many calculated risks that others would call reckless - and to a certain extent, they are reckless and could cause her death one of these days. However, she stands by them because where's the fun in safety? She's relatively easygoing as a person and is rather friendly to most; as long as they don't attack her, she won't attack either. She's often called out for not being serious about Zero Time or anything of the sorts - but she does take it seriously, she just wants to have fun along the way. However, she harbors indecisiveness in her system which has cost her many things - such as not knowing which family to join or what to actually fight for. In the end, she fights to both sustain herself and to simply be able to help. Likes:* Fighting * Adventure * Magic * Knives * Blades Dislikes:* Needless confrontation * Aggression * ZT Monsters Strengths:* Maya's magic makes it easier to overwhelm an opponent by attacking from multiple sides. * Resourceful to a fault, Maya can make almost anything into a weapon as long as she can lift it. The use of the environment around her is an integral part of her fighting style. * Agility and flexibility are things she can boast about but her ability on her board is what really catches the eyes of other people. Weaknesses:* Due to her reckless nature, she finds no problems in taking on high risks which has cost her injuries in the past. * Maya's main line of defense are her items. Her body can only take so many hits before going down herself as it is woefully average. * Due to not having any loyalty to any of the Three Families, Maya doesn't have access to many allies or contacts. Relationships* Christopher Dozier [Father \| Alive] - Current patriarch of the small Dozier family. He and Maya have a good standing relationship despite her being the only one in her family who hasn't chosen a side. * Isumi Dozier [Mother \| Sick but alive] - Currently being treated at the local hospital, Isumi also has a good relationship with her daughter. However, her condition seems to only grow worse. * Yasuhiro Dozier [Older Brother \| Alive] - The two of them go out for coffee sometimes and they rely on each other when worse comes to worse. He's currently part of the Akechi family. * Haruka Dozier [Older sister \| Alive] - Haruka and Maya are rather close though, much like Yasuhiro, they don't meet up as frequently as before. Their siblings bonding time are scheduled every other week. She's currently in the Isamu family. Backstory: Born into a small family of mages, a Dozier is trained to be able to utilize their soul into magic at a young age. The Dozier family had migrated to Mahoukyo to be closer to what was rumored to be the highest concentration of Soul in the entire world. However, they were quickly put into their place by the three families that monopolized the city for their own gain. Instead of retaliation or outright joining any of the three families, the Dozier family became an independent group of mages. As the years passed, the family became more lenient in their study of Soul and allowed their members to disperse however they wanted. This led to the Dozier family being sectioned off and being inducted into one of the three Families. Maya was born in this time - bright eyed at the sight of magic being performed by both of her parents and her older siblings. She was quick to take on to the role of learning them. Maya's life went by normally up until Yasuhiro decided to pack up and join the Akechi family after he was noticed in being useful. Haruka was not far behind in leaving for Isamu. Christopher expected for Maya to follow suit as well - choosing which side of the war she would be on. However, Maya could not choose and decided to follow the path her ancestors had done before - become independent. Though her father had warned her that it would be difficult, she soldiered on. By 17, she was already venturing out herself to aid in Zero Time, using her father's hover board gift to be able to traverse the night city quickly and to respond even quicker. She found herself wanting to come back for more, if anything, so that she would be able to push back the monotonous life of not living on the edge of safety. As the years pressed on and Maya became more well known for her skills as an independent, she had started to frequent the territories in search of mercenary work or to simply befriend anyone there. It usually wasn't ideal due ot the bad blood between the families but they treated her professionally or friendly enough. Maya simply helps with the eradications of monsters and the aid of people - which usually lands her with the Isamu family - and would never dip into sabotage of other families. --- Magic High \| Intermediate \| Talented Maya's magic lies within the free control of objects within her range. Using magic, she can physically move objects without touching them and be able to either have fine control over them or to launch them at high speeds equivalent to that of a bullet - or even more if more soul is used. However, there is a necessary charge up sequence before she is able to shoot them out. Her reach is a twenty meter radius but the further it is from her, the harder it is for her to control. The most she can do with an object at her furthest distance is a simple push or pull. It is also difficult for her to control an object that has a force already acting upon it - such as a bullet that has been shot or a sword that is being slashed. The most she can do with those are simply redirection unless she had ample time to charge up enough force to counteract it. --- Other * Over the years, she has amassed a few items - both magical and not - to aid her in her hunt which includes: + Tres - Shaped like a skateboard made of metal, a mana stone was inserted into it so that it would have the ability to fly. This is suplemented by Maya's telekinesis that allow her more advanced manuevers. The board can be strapped onto her back using magic. + Ammo pack - Something she had been saving up for years, the ammo pack is strapped onto her waste and contains an enchantment that allows for the storage of so much more things than what it is logically able to carry. She currently has forty knifes and six daggers inside. + Wand - Her actual magic item that she uses to be able to use her magic more finely than before. + Two Shields - Not magical by any means but certainly durable enough to sustain a couple of hits, it is one of her emergency defense objects. + Katana - One that she keeps around for emergency cases, she rarely uses magic when she begins relying on her katana. She has some background on proper technique. * Has been and will always be free to be hired so long as it isn't directionally sabotaging or harming a Family member. * Also has been seen working for the government as an independent fighter --- --- Rena Kirizaki</s> <\|message\|>⚫ Artemis Rin. Interactions ⚫ @Kestrel. Location ⚫ Rikimaru Fun House. Zeke, a rather enigmatic individual to say the least, someone whose reputation was found in the culinary arts, among other peculiar venues. One would be a fool to dismiss the man's cooking, truly, but knives which had been presented afforded another side to the chef. "So demanding," Artemis grinned, his slender fingers tracing across a knife handle which he had been so graciously afforded. Only a moment's passing was required for emerald energy to lick across Artemis' digits, where a replica of the item manifested itself into the material world. "And I will be anticipating your present, Zeke," the young marksman spoke, a newly replicated trinket dancing between his digits in a graceful display. "For one does not simply tease another, with Sauerkraut," Artemis winked, handing the weapon he had brought into being to his ally. With a stretch, the young assassin rose to his feet, a hand reaching below his jacket to produce a pistol, it's silvery surface reflecting the surrounding with a polished tint. Retracting then mantel, he did well in reminding himself of the enchanted ammunition within, before once more holstering the firearm. "I will procure my rifle and make myself comfortable on a rooftop," Artemis proclaimed, before starting towards the exit. "Ta-ta," the boy waved, "let's make the best of this Null Time, yes?" Opening the door, Artemis began on a path up the stairs, with an ultimate destination in mind. Home. It was where he kept his weapons, and one could certainly not trust other faction members with them. Making himself scarce, the boy pushed open the cafe door, making his way into the streets. Zero Time at the very least offered target practice. A silver lining, one might say.</s> <\|message\|>Kurokami Takuto Takuto --- Takuto wordlessly nodded at Hector's praise. It felt a little hollow considering that his punctuality was just 'exemplary' when you compared it to the others' but he would take whatever praise he could get. Especially coming from him. Having nothing better to do and wait he slumped over a chair and quietly waited for the other two to arrive, which would take a while. Hearing over steps he regained his upright position as Cassius entered the meeting room, quickly moving his gaze away into whatever that wasn't Cassius' general direction. It didn't take much deduction on Takuto's part to notice that he was mad at him, and probably for the petty reason of arriving earlier than him. He turned his gaze into the ceiling once Cassius moved into the chair opposite of him. If Takuto didn't acknowledge he would probably stop bothering him sooner or later. Thankfully the other members arrived not too long after and the meeting could start proper. It seemed today's mission wasn't going to be a normal one, but to be fair when was it ever been normal?. Collecting soul essence while warding off monsters and other factions was enough of a problem, and now they had to deal with all of those things plus a soul absorbing monster and the veins messing up the battlegrounds. Takuto stretched his arms, this was going to be a pain. Mutated or not the monster was probably still vulnerable to his magic, meaning that it might not be such a difficult task bringing it down, as long as they catch it before he absorbs the other soul veins that is. On the other hand, the monster's nature gives it a giant target behind his back so the other factions are just as likely to hunt it down, which will make going for the kill shot difficult. With all this, Takuto didn't know if their reduced time limit was a blessing in disguise or another list of trouble to add into the pile. At the very least he would get out of work early, even if it meant that everyone would be rushing towards gathering soul essence. Standing up from his chair he tucked his hands into the pockets of his suit while he waited for everyone to get ready. Five minutes weren't that of much time to prepare, and he was practically ready as he had no magic wands or relics to take out. Which speaking of, Takuto hoped that Hector would place him at a reasonable distance away from Ms.Dozier. As she had a bit of a collection of items and the last thing he needed was having to pay for another broken item.</s>	<\|message\|>Maya Dozier Current contractor: Akechi family Location: Akechi Meeting Area --- Maya gave Hector a shrug. "Contract says as long as I'm here on 1600 sharp, then I'm golden. Wouldn't want to intrude in family matters by being too early." A little straightforward. A little informal, especially for her contractors who were sticklers for rules and formality to the point of it being a little terrifying. But in Hector's words, she was but a simple mercenary untrained in their ways. However, as long as she isn't truly breaking the contract, then she technically wasn't doing anything wrong. Once the briefing started, Maya silenced herself and leaned on the wall, idly playing with a throwing knife as she listened. Typical formation, as usual, Maya would help cover those trying to recover the Soul Essence by combating the monsters that resided within Zero Time. But in this case, it seemed like they were going to purely deal with a monster and maybe get a few veins if they could. But that wasn't really what Maya was there for. All she had to worry about was the monster. Interfamily strife was none of her business. If the families fight amongst each other for Soul Essence, then that's their problem not hers. All she needed was her payment and some momentary protection. It was worrying that Zero Time was warped enough for their time to be shortened but the Akechi family could likely work around it. Once they were dismissed to collect their things, Maya stayed in her position as she inspected the knife she was already holding. Of course, she can in already prepared. It wasn't like she could store anything in the family's warehouse. She threw it up for a moment and let it stay floating in mid-air, spinning wildly before stopping suddenly and plopping back on her hand. With that, she slipped it back into her small pack and stretched, craning her head towards the others and offering them a small smile. "Good luck out there, yeah?" She called out, sparing a glance at the other Akechi member who looked like he was ready to kill. "If you guys need any help or just some quick transport, don't hesitate to call me over as always."</s>
<\|description\|>Axel Jandad A foreign exchange student. From France! He's still getting used to speaking, but he's pretty good. He's got messy blond-brown hair and surely muscles under those jackets he never seems to take off - if this was a romance, he would be the love interest. Ella Weider A star athlete, through and through. She's tall, towering over most of the boys in your class. HAGAY is a little small to have its own sports teams, unfortunately, so she does all of that outside of school. It's almost impossible to organise stuff with her. She's constantly busy. Emma Tailler Possibly the best pianist anyone will ever meet. Reliable and kind, she's a bit of a go to if you ever need anything. If there's anything the whole class has in common, it's that everyone is friends with Emma. Herbert Baker Shows up to class maybe once a week and still manages to do better than you on every exam. One of the many mysteries of life is how he hasn't been kicked out yet. HAGAY must be all about results, it seems. Jackson Burgess No one's really sure how he's in the school. Out of everyone, he's the most average. His grades are just okay, his family isn't particularly rich. The accepted conclusion is that he does well on tuition exams by luck. Larissa Woods If a brick wall was ever turned into a woman, that would be Larissa. Talking to her is drier than the Sahara desert. Somehow, she manages to have friends. Just two, though. Mina Mason An art prodigy. Her family is one of the least wealthy in the class, and it's thanks to her talent and work ethic that allow her to continue to study at HAGAY. She's known to become a shut-in during the build-up to tuition exams. Mook Genera A doormat. He tends to fade into the background, even though he's one of the best students in the class. It isn't like he's boring, he just lacks presence. Majorly. Morgan Weld Not a single photo of him exists where he wears anything other than black. His hair, his eyes, they're all black too. It's rumoured that his natural hair colour is ginger, but no one can prove it. Neu Ronald A pretentious prick. Annoyingly, he's not wrong. That doesn't make him any less unlikeable. It's said that he doesn't need glasses and only wears them to look smart. Porche Pinkerton Planned to transfer in at the beginning of junior year. The daughter of a pair of well known musicians and known for being stuck up and little else. In terms of academics? Who knows. Sebastian Roth Another musical talent, a man of many mysteries as well as many instruments. There isn't really any way to describe him other than 'emo'. He hardly ever talks to anyone except for Seth. Seth Wall A friendly (but short) boy. He's pretty middle of the road, but as of late he's began to really try and pick up his grades. No one's really sure what caused the change. Samuel Funker The resident crackhead. Yam Lee The outsider of the class. Not because people don't like her, but she just isolates herself. Her father is the CEO of a technology company, which is just as well, because her grades have been steadily declining ever since freshman year.</s> <\|message\|>Axel Jandad Today's Date: Tuesday 8th of September, 2020 Today's Weather: 13°C, Cloudy In The News: A ridiculously angry review of Ready Player One. Calendar: 08-09-20 : school begins</s> <\|message\|>Axel Jandad --- The sky was grey. So were the streets, paved stones covered in puddles from the rain the night before. The exhaust fumes were grey and the concrete buildings too. Greyest of all was the particular occasion - yes, after weeks and weeks of doing absolutely nothing in particular, the students of Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents & Youths would have to return to their desks for yet another semester. The building was small, but it was vast compared to the very few students attending it. There were never more than thirty people in each year. To begin with, attending the school was incredibly demanding. Hefty tuitions only subsidised by excelling in academics or arts - and even then, it was still expensive. Attending Harbour Academy was a luxury few could afford. Very, very few. There was still some time until the school bell rang. Even so, it seemed like most of the students had already arrived in school, chatting idly while they still could. There was an awful lot to catch up on, and not nearly enough time. The instant that classes started again, it was work, work, work until four in the afternoon. That was, of course, disregarding the obscene amount of extra-curriculars that the students often had. That was the price of attending the prestigious Harbour Academy. On top of tens of thousands of dollars, of course. The class of 2022 was passing the time in the yard, arranged in small groups across several picnic tables. There were even less than there had been the year before. They'd began their sophomore year with seventeen people. Only thirteen of these people had stayed another year. It wasn't unusual at Harbour Academy. At the end of the year, students had to take even more exams to determine their tuition fees for the next year. All it took was one bad day and suddenly you were paying thousands more than the year before. It was often better to accept the shame and just transfer. At the same time, students tended to join at the start of the year too. "Are we getting three more this year?" Ella Weider asked. She traced the patterns of her water bottle, staring at it intently. "Hmm? Yeah, but one of them is an exchange student," came the reply from across the table. Emma Tailler, skimming through a textbook less than an hour before her lesson started. She'd planned to flip through the whole thing before school had started, but she didn't think she could at that rate. "Axel, right? Then one of the other ones is the daughter of that musician. Andrew Pinkerton. And the other one, damn. Can't remember." Ella laughed. "Don't worry, we'll find out soon enough. Anyway, that doesn't matter. A little birdie told me you have a date this weekend. Em, you gotta tell me..." Emma's spluttering was quickly covered up by the splitting screech of the school bell. Her saviour. Red-faced, she rushed to her homeroom, while Ella quickly walked after her, laughing heartily. The rest of the class soon followed, taking their time to savour the time they had left. There were already three people in the classroom as people began to file in. Their teacher, Mr Spelwel - the same as last year, an overly enthusiastic English teacher. Then, two new students. The chatting began to settle down as people began claiming their seats. There was sort of an unofficial seating plan with the old students. Since they had so many lessons all together, it didn't take long until everyone had their 'designated' place. Spelwel clapped his hands together, grinning brightly. Silence fell over the class. "Alright, everyone! As you know, three new victim- er, students will be joining us this year! Unfortunately, our exchange student won't be in class until next week, but at least we have these two!" He gave them both a thump on the back. One of them, a blonde girl, grimaced at the contact. "Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them." The blonde girl flipped her hair and opened her mouth, about to speak. Then she hesitated, suddenly becoming bashful. "Porche. Porche Pinkerton. Um, it's nice to meet you all. I'm... a vegetarian." She dipped her head in some sort of greeting. It was enough for Spelwel. "Fantastic! You next," he said, placing his hand on the other student's shoulder with considerable force. "Come on, don't be shy!"</s> <\|message\|>James León (León Rivers) --- "¿Vas a estar bien?" "Mama, se preocupa demasiado. Todo irá bien." "Mmh. Diviértete." James snatched his briefcase and flew out the front door of 219 Wade Street. He had a bike, sure, but the school was only a 20 minute walk away. He liked to walk. It gave him time to think. James considered himself quite good at thinking, but by no means was he an expert. Anyone who was a master at thinking went and lived on high-up mountains in China or Tibet or some other equally distant Asian country. Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents and Youths, huh? He thought. HAGAY was the most prestigious school in a town of prestigious people. Cape Cove was the home of a rapidly growing medicinal market, and where there was medicine, there was money. Not only were there doctors and high-paying patients, but also everything else a spanky-wanky new hospital town needed to sustain itself. Hotels, restaurants, playplaces like the cinema or that new bowling alley on 3rd Avenue. Cape Cove needed nurses, janitors, receptionists, accountants, people to fill the many jobs and duties in town. Lawyers, too. Well, soon there would be a new occupation Cape Cove could claim possesion of- mystery writer extraordinaire- but only if he could get his shit together and write something good for once. James passed by some other teenagers walking in directions antithetical to his. Students of the other schools in town, no doubt. HAGAY only enrolled a hundred students spread over multiple years- around 15 or so per grade. He stopped at the school gate. What a grey place! The architecture was incredible, but the color design was so odd- almost as if the architect was colorblind. It blended in so well with the grey Virginia weather that he had almost missed the damn thing! "No sense losing my nerve now, ah?" James said to nobody in particular, which was good, for no other students were loitering at the entrace to hear him. He checked his watch, a gift from his late paternal grandfather. He was somewhat early. "Might as well head to the classroom." He showed his student ID to the guard at the gate and stepped inside. The courtyard leading up to the school was a good deal prettier than the entrance- soon the fall colors would come into a beautiful symphony of reds and oranges. James snapped a quick picture with his phone- the first of what he hoped would be many happy photos of the school year. The halls were also mostly empty, save for an adult or two that rushed by James without a word. Last-minute preparations, no doubt. James could relate. He often procrastinated important essays until the night before the due date, a habit would have to work on if he wanted to succeed in the coming year. As he entered the classroom, James noticed one other student- a blonde girl- already there, speaking quietly with a bespectacled man who he recognized as Mr Spelwel, his teacher. They turned as he entered. "Ah, James, how good to meet you in person! I've heard a lot about you, and I'm excited to see how you perform this year!" Mr Spelwel stuck out his hand. James shook it. "Likewise. I'll be in your care. I hope that-" The screech of the morning bell interrupted James. Mr Spelwel laughed. "That's alright. We can have a proper introduction once everyone comes in. I'm sure everyone will welcome you just fine. Here they come now!" HAGAY's class of 2020 entered Room 201 like a flock of swans. Disorganized, wacky swans, but swans nonetheless. Each student carried themselves in a way that emphasized how they deserved to be in one of the top secondary institutions in the country. Several of them gave James looks that reminded him of the look a cat gives a mouse before eating it. He swallowed. Did cats play with their food before eating it? Did cats eat the mice at all? Or was that something that the portrayal from- Mr Spelwel gave James a hearty slap on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. The thin teacher's frame certainly belied his arm strength. "Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them." The blond girl was apparently vegetarian. He would have to remember that. It was his turn now. Spelwel pushed his hand down on James's shoulder. Easy now. Good first impression. These people have known each other for ages now, but that doesn't matter. You're not an outsider, you're just a couple years late to the party. That's like, not that much of a person's life, right? 1/40th the total lifetime of an average person, maybe? "Ah, hey everyone! I'm James León. I like mystery and crime novels and writing!" He smiled and clapped his hands together. "I look forward to the coming year with you all!"</s>	<\|message\|>Axel Jandad Awkward silence spread over the class. The only noise was of people shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. Spelwel grinned. "Fab! Alright, let's go around the class, one row at a time. Let's start with... Yam! Tell us your name and something about yourself." "Oh. Okay. Um, my name's Yam Lee-" she began. "No, no, no! You have to stand up. Come on, don't be shy." Yam gave him a disgusted look and stood. "I'm Yam, and my favourite colour is blue." She promptly collapsed back into her chair. "Great! Next is... oh, Herbert, you're actually in. Shame Samuel couldn't join you. You next." "Wha..?" "Yes, that's enough. Next..." "I'm Mook, and I-" "I'm Jackson! I have the highest Subway Surfers score out of the entire state." "Sebastian. I play cello." "My name's Seth! I've got a sister. We're twins." "Emma Tailler, I have three pet dogs." "I have art up in three different galleries. I'm Mina Mason, by the way." "Elizabeth, but call me Ella. I like... horses?" "Larissa." "Morgan, and I used-" "To be ginger," Herbert grunted from the front of the room. Morgan hissed. "No! I didn't!" "Moving on, moving on," Spelwel sighed. "Neu?" "My name is Neu Ronald, and I'm the smartest person in this room," he said smugly. A lot of huffing followed. "Wonderful. Now, moving on," Spelwel continued. He gestured for Porche and James to sit, then continued. "First, I have to give out some things...</s>
<\|description\|>Tiberius Nero Delamar Nickames -T -Ty Age Twenty-one Gender Male Year Third Reason of Admission Legacy (Fifth generation). Major Major in Psychology, Minor in Digital Art. Sexuality Bi-sexual. Relationship Status Currently curious about Junie Macmillian Label Edgy Asshole Appearance Details * Hair: Extremely dark brown, often mistaken for black.\| Cut so that it is longer on the top, and shorter on the sides and back of his head. Sometimes let's it grow out to where it is shaggy. \| The longer pieces are usually combed back in a wave like style. * Eyes: Sapphire blue. * Height: Six feet, four inches. * Body Type: Thin and muscular, most often defined as Ectomorph. Most of his muscle can be found in his arms. * Clothing Style: Alternative \| Mostly the color black. Skinny jeans, tanktops, dress shirts, slacks, lot's of leather, studded belts, owns a suit or two. * Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: To many tattoos to count. Most of them are located on his upper body, his left arm is covered. Some of them can be found on his chest and back, with a handful on the right arm as well. Left ear is pierced, along with his right nostril and the left side of his bottom lip. Personality Traits Debonair - Stubborn - Loyal - Egotistical - Determined - Blunt - Adventurous/Thrill Seeker/Adrenaline Junkie - Territorial - Closed Off - Protective - Aggressive - Daring/Brave - Patient - Curious Upbringing Synopsis Tiberius was the older twin by seven minutes. Born into a failing marriage, Ty was the wanted twin, but that didn't win him many favors with his parents. The nanny Rosalinda raised him and his sister Jasper for the most part, influencing them to do the things they loved. Their father had always been abusive, but really started to get physical when Ty was 10 - around the time of Marie's car crash, heavy drinking, and addiction. While Marie lashed out at Jasper about her weight, and ultimately treated her son like a ghost, Nicholas lashed out at both of his children physically. Each time this would happen, Ty would put himself between his father and sister, forcing his father to direct most of his anger at him. The first handful of times that the abuse occurred, Jasper was unfortunately involved, but eventually Nicholas got so fed up and tired with his son making a scene that Ty's goal was accomplished. School was decent. Both he and his sister made decent grades, though it was hard to focus on school and have perfect GPA's with everything going on at home. Bruises were disguised under the lie that they were received during baseball practice or playing outside. Broken bones were not common, but came in sets of two or three at a time. Due to his influence at the hospital, Nicholas was never questioned about his sons condition there. While he tried to be there for his sister in every way that he could, Ty's encouragement of her to eat and moral support just wasn't enough. It was some sort of strange relief to the twins when their mother died when they were fifteen. Sadly, Nicholas's abuse did not stop until Ty was seventeen. At this time, Tiberius had built up the strength both physically and mentally to fight back. After a few brawls, his father finally stopped hurting him, but continued to punch holes in the walls, break things, etc. Thanks to Rosalinda, Ty found a passion for drawing at fifteen. She co-signed for him to get a tattoo at a shady ink shop on his seventeenth birthday, and he's been in love with the art of tattoos ever since. He is currently attending Meadow University to support Jasper, and because he was forced into it by his father. In order to get his grandparents and father to shut up about pursuing art, Ty is currently doubly majoring in psychology as well. Family Marie Nicole Delamar - Former Fashion Model - Mother - Deceased Nicholas Michael Delamar - Esteemed Neurologist - Father - Age 53 Jasper Vivionna Delamar - College Student - 'Younger' Sister/Twin - Age 21 Misc. Andy Biersack \|8DC73F Font: Cool -> True Lies -Loves Rock music. -Would die for his sister in a heart beat and will do nearly anything for her, or to protect her. -Enjoys studying people and getting to know them. He loves being able to find out peoples habits, quirks, dreams, etc. -Often does not think about the consequences of his actions, leading him into trouble. -Is majoring in psychology to get his parents to shut up. -Horror movies are his favorite. -Whiskey is his best friend. 50 First Dates</s> <\|message\|>Alaric Micheal Sterling After the whole Theo and Cassian shenanigan Alaric tried to catch up to Mac, he didn't expect her to be such a slippery snake though and ended up losing her in the crowd of wasted college students. His party mood had been shot and the blonde just decided to ditch the dirty woods in favor of the comfort of his own bedroom. For the rest of that night he drowned himself in liquor and weed, ignoring anyone who might have tried to knock on his door or talk to him. At some point he blacked out and the rest of the night had been forgotten. ~ The most annoying sound ever woke Alaric up, his hand shooting out from underneath his comforter and fumbling around for his phone. "It cannot be morning yet..." the boy grumbled, squinting as he looked at his phone. He had a million text messages from people, half of them he didn't even know. After opening several of them it turned out to just be the same thing, a video of two idiots going at it during the "Great Bash". He could see himself in the video, standing off to the side with a bottle of alcohol in hand. "Oh that's just fucking perfect." At the rate the damn thing was spreading Alaric had no doubt someone in his family would show the video to dear-old dad. Awesome. As he just laid there going through his phone a new notification popped up, an assembly or something was going to go down in an hour. Alaric knew it'd be about the party, school was too damn uppity to let something like a viral fight go without any consequences. Honestly this day could not get any worse. ~ Apparently it could, was this old hag really throwing Academic Probation at all of them? Alaric could already feel a headache beginning to say hello and sitting there listening to students around him panic wasn't really making it better. He wanted a drink, one that was strong enough to knock him on his ass for awhile. Completely done with the day already, Alaric got up and walked out of the auditorium. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket and began to head back towards his dorm, he thankfully didn't have any classes till later which meant he could smoke something before hand. He didn't get vary far though, just to one side of the courtyard before he heard a cascade of ring tones go off all at once including his own. He could have waited until he got back to his room but curiosity got the best of him and Alaric pulled out his phone. It took his muddled brain a moment to comprehend the message he was reading. Questions came to mind: Who was Nate again and why did he have his number? Why was he touching Jasper, even if it was an accident? Lastly, he needed to find out what he looked like so he could have a little...chat with him. Jealousy and anger were not emotions Alaric usually felt unless it involved his father, but today was an exception. Things were starting to pile up, a possible lecture from his father and the academic probation was enough to make want to drink till he passed out but now knowing someone was trying to move in on the girl he liked made him want to punch something...hard. Shoving his phone into his pocket Alaric took a deep breath, where was one of his peppy pals when he needed one?</s> <\|message\|>Ramona Michelle Martin ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂Given the amount of alcohol she'd consumed the night before, it would probably come as a great surprise to many to see how energetic and alive Mona seemed to be that morning as she made her way across campus to attend the eight o'clock assembly. As usual, Mona had gotten up at around six-thirty to prepare for her morning exercises; she'd decided that it would be best to simply head to the assembly following her jog around campus. Mona did feel slightly off as drew closer to the auditorium, her feet pounding the pavement and her lips mouthing the lyrics to the song that blasted through her earbuds. Although she didn't have a killer headache, there was a slight churn in her stomach as she pushed on. There weren't enough painkillers or Martin family remedies in the world that could change that. But as she finally stepped foot into the crowded space and began her search for an empty seat, it was pretty obvious that she felt a lot better than how some of her classmates looked. Mona's eyes instantly landed upon Nate as she walked down the aisle; he sat with a girl she barely recognized, and Mona could tell by the look on his face, as well as his current outfit, that he was in a hell of a lot of pain. Part of her felt slightly guilty for pushing the young man to drink as much as he did. Maybe then he wouldn't be in the state he was now. Ramona took the first empty seat she could find, which happened to be closer to the front of the room; she sat in between a guy who still reeked of alcohol, and a girl who could barely keep her eyes open long enough to see the Headmistress signal for their silence, let alone sit upright in her chair. With one of her earbuds still pumping neo-soul into her ear, Mona passively listened as the Headmistress began to speak. She clapped along when instructed to, and nearly fell out of her seat when it was announced that they'd all been placed on Academic Probation. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Mona said, mostly to herself as the room erupted in a cacophony of conversation. "She can't just do that to the entire Junior class... right? That's bullshit." When Mona realized that her two seating neighbors weren't paying her any mind, she quickly stood from her chair and followed the rest of the crowd out of the auditorium. Mona's first instinct was to pull out her cell phone and send a quick message to Junie, but as she furiously typed and made a beeline for the cafeteria, a sudden text message from Nate made her stop in her tracks. "Groping me at the bash... huh?" Mona said, trying to comprehend the message that was displayed on her phone. "Nate, are you still drunk or something, dude?" Mona was prepared to type out a response, but it was in that moment that Mona also noticed that she wasn't the only one in the courtyard who'd received a notification. Her eyes widened as she realized that the message was sent to all of Nate's contacts. "Yikes."</s>	<\|message\|>Tiberius Nero Delamar Ty's night had gone out with a bang - literally. Junie had quite a few tricks up her sleeve, and Ty had absolutely zero problems with it. Whatever had been going on between them had finally started to reach a peak, and the young man was more than grateful for that. Giving her the option rather to dine out or eat in, Junie had chosen to eat at his apartment. Getting to work on their meal, Ty was happy when she joined in to help slice the fruit. For the first time in his life, Tiberius was having a movie scene moment - and he loved every moment of it. After Junie had left, Ty collapsed on his bed, exhausted from last night and ever so slightly hung over. There was a dull ache in his head, and he was surprised to say that his back was actually sore. Sure, he had had a few girls scratch his back from time to time, but Junie? It was like the girl was marking her territory or something. After a quick shower, a glass of water, and a few Advil, Ty was ready to face his day. He went to the assembly, shrugging his shoulders as he realized that they were on academic probation. So what? It was bullshit and he would just transfer. Once he had entered the court yard, Ty felt his phone buzz with a notification at the same moment everyone else's phone seemed to go off. Opening the message, he read it before realizing who it was from. Nate? Boobs? Party? It took Ty a second to put the pieces of the puzzle together. As the feeling of protective rage swelled inside of him from his head to his toes, Ty looked around the courtyard for Nate. Once he spotted the other man, Ty marched over, his phone clutched in his hand as his eyebrows nit together. Spotting the much shorter Millie, Ty gave her a polite nod. "Morning Mills." Raising his right hand to grab Nate and yank the other young man around by the shoulder to face him, Ty slammed Nate up against the snack machine, pinning his right forearm under Nate's chin. "Mind telling me what exactly you did to my sister and why you're messaging half of the goddamn school about it?" he growled.</s>
<\|description\|>Kieran David O'Connor Nicknames K.O (on the ice), Kiki (to VERY close friends) Age 21 Gender Male Year Junior year, still draft-eligible Reason of Admission Athletic Scholarship for Hockey Major Journalism, with a focus on sports / Communications Sexuality Heterosexual Relationship Status Single Label Heartthrob Jock Appearance Details * Hair: Brown \| Long \| Usually worn down, but he claims to have brought the manbun to Newfoundland, so he will wear it up in that style from time to time. * Eyes: Blue * Height: 6'3" * Body Type: Athletic build, especially in the legs thanks to a lifetime of skating. * Clothing Style: As an athlete, Kieran is expected to maintain a sense of style at the rink, so he has a couple of fine suits that he will wear on game days to look presentable. However, his preferred casual clothes consist primarily of jeans, both torn and untorn, open button-up shirts with t-shirts on underneath and a toque (wool cap) that will be worn to protect his hair from the elements. He wears a pair of dogtags in honor of his childhood friend and neighbor. * Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nothing can mark that perfect body. Not yet, anyway. Personality Traits Growing up in the rural part of Newfoundland has given Kieran an appreciation for taking things slow, but in the end it wasn't really for him. He likes the ability to do any number of things in one day, which was only possible after a long car ride back home. He likes to be out with people, doing things. He had enough hanging out alone back home. Kieran has always been an easygoing person. Growing up constantly surrounded by a team atmosphere, he is usually the calm presence among his fellow athletes. On the ice, he plays as ferociously as anyone. He earned his nickname in his freshman season with Meadow after taking down junior enforcer J.P. Smolinski of Robert Morris in his first-ever scrap. He will fight for his team tooth and nail, he's that loyal once on board. It's a trait he carries with him off the eye, usually willing to stick up for anyone he considers a friend. Upbringing Synopsis Kieran O'Connor born in Harbour Grace, Newfoundland and Labrador, and it was clear from an early age the kid was as Canadian as a Tim Horton's donut covered in maple syrup. From the second Patrick and Maryse O'Connor brought their youngest to Harbour Grace Arena for his first skate, Kieran showed he had a natural talent for gliding along the ice. As such, his parents invested all their spare cash in letting their boy pursue his dream of following Danny Cleary from the island to the NHL. He was head and shoulders above the other kids in Harbour Grace and was a stand out even in the larger St. John's league. However, that still didn't amount to much and he wasn't drafted until the 10th round of the 2016 QMJHL draft by Blainville-Boisbriand. Not content to move to Quebec, Kieran didn't report to camp and instead decided the NCAA route would be the best way to reach then pros. His grades were so good that he had multiple offers from the States, but his parents insisted on education first and Kieran made his way to the top-tier Meadow University in 2018. Kieran maintained an open-dorm policy when he got to university and it served him well, landing some solid friends and a couple eventual future roommates. He still is dreaming of that NHL contract so he can put the Rock back on the professional hockey map given the dearth of talent that has managed to stay in the big leagues. Family Father: Patrick O'Connor - 52 - Fisherman - FC: Alan Doyle Mother: Maryse O'Connor - 48 - Director, Harbour Grace Tourism Board - FC: Natasha Henstridge Oldest Sister: Caitlin O'Connor - 27 - Manager, Hertz Rent-A-Car, Toronto Bloor Street location - FC: Nicole Power Older Sister: Hannah O'Connor - 24 - Junior Crime Reporter, The St. John's Telegram - FC: Sara Canning Misc. Brock O'Hurn \| 87b5eb - So I need another rom-com? Um... Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist?</s> <\|message\|>Fiona Jade Salvador This was beyond bullshit. Who did this fucking school think they were? Fiona didn't even attend the party, yet she was still on probation. What kind of bullshittery ---- Lost for words, the dark haired girl exited the auditorium, her resting birch face becoming more and more noticable as she went. Cassian and that other dude could both suck her dick. She wasn't going to have two years of her degree thrown away because two stupid boys - boys, not men - decided to get into a fight over who knows what. If Fiona had it her way, she'd be raging at Cass right now. In the meantime, she should probably get to know the other guy in the videos name. Instead of drawing any more attention to herself, Fiona sat down at one of the tables in the courtyard. Digging around in her bag for her notebook, the young woman began to study. On the off chance she would get to stay at Meadow, she should wouldnt want to fall behind on her classes.</s> <\|message\|>Theodore Gustave Bonfamille When Theodore had gotten to the Bonfamille Manor in town, it wasn't quite yet sunrise but it was late. He didn't know if Bas or if Mads had gotten home okay but he had all the confidence in the world the two could take care of themselves. Lord knows when he sat down on the couch and laid on his side, he wasn't in any position to double-check. He woke up close to dinner time the next day and still felt like shit. His head pounded like someone took a hammer to it, or a hammer-like fist and it physically hurt him when he brought his left hand to touch one of his cuts. Thinking it couldn't get any worse than it was right now, Theo immediately was proven wrong as he reached for his phone on his nightstand and checked for any messages. There were a few but none appealed to him enough and made him open his eyes faster than he ever had done than when he saw a text message with an Instagram link. He tapped the link and it brought him to a video. "Please don't tell me.." Theo's voice trailed off into silence, hating himself immediately. "They caught the entire thing," he mused, seeing just how...aggressive he was. In the deepest part of his gut, he felt something twist as though he was disgusted with the red-haired boy he saw because that wasn't a man he saw tackling Cass. That was someone less than. Halfway through the video, which wasn't at the part where Theo got kicked in the chest, a pain that was still fresh, his phone went off. He scowled when he saw who it was. Begrudgingly, he answered. "Can you save the lecture?" Theo said, eyes closed as he laid back on his bed. "I already know why you're calling, mother. And I know why you're about to give me the third degree. Just save it." Adelaide Bonfamille didn't speak for nearly a minute. Theo knew she was considering her words. He knew her to be precise and not one to beat around the bush, not when it came to him, at least. Always the direct one. Even as much as he hates to admit it, that's one of the few things they have in common. They are often direct in how they act. For better or worse, Theodore and Adelaide possess that same fire in their souls. Finally, as he heard her cough, she said, "I hope you're proud of yourself, Theodore." "Oh, I'm just beaming with pride, mother! I sure love getting recorded and everyone seeing me lose a fight. Yeah, I couldn't be happier!" He spoke with such sarcasm that how his mother sounded, the way she breathed, he knew she rolled her eyes. "Are you done?" She asked with restraint but clearly not in the mood for his sarcasm. "Yeah, I suppose so." "Good." Adelaide cleared her throat. "This is an absolute travesty, Theodore. What on Earth possessed you to think this was a good idea?" "Honestly?" His rhetorical tone was met with silence, so he continued. "I don't know what you want me to say. Do I regret it? Well duh! This entire ordeal was recorded and I know everyone knows it was me. Hell, you even recognized me and you're hardly around to know if I still have my red hair anymore."And there it was. Direct and finally getting to his point. "What do you mean 'I'm hardly around'?" Theo went to open his mouth, thinking he was going to say it. And his voice half-cracked itself, but in the end, he betrayed himself by opting for silence instead of the truth. "Forget it. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I don't have time for this right now. Besides," Theo said, sighing, turning on his left side, settling into a comfortable position. As he yawned, he said, "I know you have that big concert in an hour. I wouldn't want to make you late for it." "Theodore, wait--" He cut her off as he hung up with her and shut off his phone. He knew she wasn't going to be particularly happy with him and he knew it would reach him eventually, but Theo didn't care. He didn't have the mental energy to spare for the likes of Madame Adelaide Bonfamille. He didn't even have it to spare for his siblings. He only wanted to sleep and sleep he did. It had been five minutes since Theo left the assembly. He didn't stick around for the aftershow. As soon as the showstopping bomb was dropped, though he wasn't exactly thrilled, the young man shrugged, caring not to focus on it right now. There was a lot on the oldest Bonfamille's mind. A lot of bad (for the most part). His part in that video that went around, how he acted against Cassian, and how ugly he might've appeared to a lot. By now, he was certain everyone knew who was in that video. Even if the Headmistress and all of those who worked for her didn't know, everyone else had to know — or maybe it was his own worst thoughts that wanted to think that. As he walked through the courtyard, deep in his thoughts, Theo was late to the party when he came to a stop at one of the many tables spread throughout the spacious courtyard. As he sat and checked his phone, he saw a group text that was still getting replies. His initial reaction was curiosity. Once he figured out the original sender was, he laughed. Theo and Nate weren't exactly close and given that some of the replies ranged from downright cruel to supportive, he couldn't imagine he was having any fun. Even still, Theodore wasn't close enough to really care about what Nate was going through, well, not enough to help the guy out. As he shifted his body halfway out, the right leg on the outside of the table and his left still in, this gave Theo a better view of who was around. He saw some familiar faces. He caught Joanna Hart and that Charlotte girl walk off west and he saw Jasper Delamar storm off somewhere as though she was ready to beat someone up. Everyone was going somewhere and then came someone Theodore knew but not really. Dark hair swayed in front of him and she probably didn't realize it, but she absent-mindedly took a seat opposite of him. If he recalled, her name started with an F or something like that. The fact she didn't acknowledge him prompted Theo to speak first. "Hey, you're Fi--" He tried to remember her name, "--Finna?" No, that didn't sound right. "Salvador, right?" At least he remembered her surname.</s>	<\|message\|>Kieran David O'Connor She's having a fucking laugh, right? She can't actually do that... Kieran was still a bit in shock after the assembly. The early wake up call didn't help matters. While hangovers didn't have much of an impact on the Newfoundlander, having to wake up before 10 am did. Even if it was 90 minutes later back home on the Rock. Still didn't matter. Certainly doesn't help to get the news that the esteemed head of the campus decided to drop. First, the fact that she actually knew about it meant there was a snitch in the ranks. Anyone who squeals is instantly ostracized for breaking the code in the locker room and Kieran adhered to those tenets in life. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, and a brother doesn't sell out a brother. Whoever went to the top sold out an entire class of students. Not cool. Second, academic probation was not something Kieran could afford right now. He managed to slide through with a 2.3 GPA last year, but he could ill-afford being dropped down even further. Coach Smolinski wasn't exactly strict with the grades, but he still cracked the whip enough to keep the heat off. Besides, how was Kieran going to attract those NHL scouts if he wasn't able to play any games? It all stunk. It stunk to high heaven. It stunk like the April catch of the day in July. But there was nothing Kieran could do about it. He wasn't a trust fund baby. He didn't have any famous fathers. He was just here to make the hockey team look good, and it wasn't even good enough for a Frozen Four invite last year. There was no way he could guarantee safety. It just made him mad. Something very difficult to do to the usually even-keeled Canadian, but it was frustrating. On the way out of the assembly, he punched a nearby drinking fountain hard enough to stick the button in the on position, to the dismay of eco-activists everywhere. His phone was buzzing. He didn't care to look at it right now. He just had to find some way to release this frustration.</s>
<\|description\|>HELIX Frame Sheet Codename: Ark Appearance: 15 meters tall. Spotted dangerously close to Russian borders by long range reconnaissance squadrons. Class: Medium Role: Unknown Equipment: Unknown. No weapons visually detected.</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY DRESSED young man felt utter relief as it seemed someone had found his spectacles, and promptly handed to him. Not thrown at him, or kicked at him. Standing to his feet, Julian dusted himself off and eagerly put them back on. The full view of Rachel came into his focus--even with her aviator glasses on, Julian could see that she was pretty. His male gaze lingered a little longer than he'd realized, causing him to stammer and turn red. "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," he replied hastily, adverting his eyes. He was about to be brave and introduce himself when someone snarked at his rescuer. 'Another time,' Julian thought, leaving Rachel to deal with Garret. As he returned to his seat, the young man overheard an intriguing voice. It was almost too soft to be heard, yet it carried Julian's eyes towards the source automatically. He noticed a man with a long braid of hair, seeming to speak to himself. Julian held onto that bravery he'd seized from his encounter with Rachel and decided to introduce himself to Henry instead. He seemed nice enough and Julian knew they would all have to work together some time soon anyway. "Hello," Julian greeted, with a slight smile. The man had said adventure? "I suppose it could be an adventure, albeit I reckon it won't be a fun one." He extended a gloved hand, "My name is Julian...uh, I mean, Julian Brumbles."</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," the man said to Rachel. She smiled back to him and nodded, "Would be bad if you were blind in your HELIX." she chuckled and poked her tongue out at him. Rachel thought his nervous response was rather endearing, though not very indicative of a military man. Then again, the advent of HELIX frames had a tack-on effect of attracting some rather unique individuals. She couldn't be too surprised. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" another passenger said rather rudely to her. Rachel looked at him, the reflective lenses of her aviators hiding her eyes as they blinked. Rachel shrugged, then nodded at the first half of his comment, "Yeah I kinda do like the sound of my voice actually. It sounds great when I'm being kind to people," she thumbs back to Julian while continuing to speak to Garret, "You'd probably like yours a lot more too if you tried being nicer to strangers, not to mention future wingmen." She then thought about the latter portion of his question, a matter of importance. Rachel nodded again, "Oh I'm definitely important, don't even need to consider that for a moment. I'm important, just like you are. And you," she upnodded to Julian, "And him over there too." She gestured to the man who appeared to be just waking from a nap. Rachel leaned against a seat with an elbow over the top of it while keeping her eyes on Garret, "HELIX pilots don't just happen, after all. We're pioneers of the next technological era, hand picked from the vast military of the United Empire to handle the most advanced machines ever made. The difference between us is that I have the confidence to verbally acknowledge my importance to the empire." Rachel span into a seat and threw a hand behind her head while another reached into a pocket to pull out a phone. She tapped away at it for some time before glancing sidelong to Garret. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." She held out a hand for a shake as she introduced herself to the man who was just a moment ago throwing shade at her.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis With a smiles Henry straightened up. He listened to the repartee between Rachel and Garret, finding it a little amusing. The obviously cocky but sure woman speaking confidently towards the quite rude young man. It's really rather amusing to see the way the moniyew treat each other. He hums looking between the others in passenger section. Finally turning to the well dressed young man. Henry quirks his head slightly to the side and nods, "Julian Brumbles ci? Well, Tansi niya Henry Makokis nisikason, Onichiskawaponi sikiaso." Henry stops himself a second and sighs, "I'm sorry, the GUFNC has a more or less mandated rule that we speak our languages as often as we can. The many languages of the First Nations people were dying out before the GUFNC came about. I try to speak as much of it as I can, forgetting that not everyone speaks Cree, or Dene'tha or any of the other hundred or so tongues of the GUFNC." He chuckles, "I'm sorry let me start again." He clears his throat, "Julian Brumbles? Well Hello there, I am Henry Makokis, that's my name. I come from Saddle Lake lands." He smiles and shrugs, then reaches out, and with a firm grip he shakes Julian's hand, "You can call me Henry though if you like, Mr. Brumbles." He let's Julian's hand go and leans back, he then calmly reaches over to where a thin length of wood, painted grey up to the last inch of the tip where it's painted a bright red. many different eagle and hawk feathers hang from it's length. He takes the stick and tucks it up under his left arm, "Can't lose this." He looks to Julian, "So while the others try to establish a pecking order, tell me about yourself Julian Brumbles, what brings you out here? You're a HELIX pilot yes? You don't look like the usual HELIX pilot I've ever seen. Well I guess I'm not either." He gestures at his own surpisingly casual outfit. A hide vest, with snake skin sewn to the breast, and fur fringe hanging from the wait hem and leather fringes at the wrist. A buckhide pants and combat boots. Ending with a canvas shirt more or less. Something very easy to put together really. He brings the stick he grabbed up and taps the red tip to his bottom lip, "But then if we're all here we're all a little unique I guess?"</s> <\|message\|>Garret Lent Garret's eyes glazed over as the walking irritant in front of him responded. And responded. In all likelihood it was not terribly long of a response, but all the same it was too long and entirely bothersome, full of the self importance that Garret suspected would drive him mad by the end of his time in Canada. It really would have been better if he could have kept himself from opening his mouth, but he'd have to deal with it now if he was still going to repay the kindness that was shown to him. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." And then her hand was in his face. Glancing up at Rachel, the world coming back into focus Garret could see that at some point in all of this the bitch had stopped to check her bloody phone. She was either incredibly incompetent at reducing heated situations or deliberately trying to piss him off. Garret chose to act as if the latter was true. "Sorry." Garret said straightening up in his seat. "Got bored during your answer." Her hand was left to hang there.</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY-DRESSED YOUNG MAN sighed with relief as Henry proved far more kind than he appeared to be, especially with that eye-catching apparel. Of course, Julian knew that he himself had no excuse; There wasn't going to be a dinner party for them, he was sure. He did find the Cree language rather beautiful to hear, it was as though he was listening to flowers or the wind speak sweet, colorful words to him that painted the corners of his imagination. He wondered how hard it would be to master a second language or even categorize hundreds of cousin tongues. Settling in for the long haul, Julian adjusted his hat and folded his hands on his large abdomen as the First Nation pilot went on and on. 'Henry Makokis, that's a lovely name,' Julian mused, nodding as Henry declared his homeland's name. "Oh, of course, Henry. You may call me Julian," he interjected gently, smiling by eyes and mouth. Julian blinked and adjusted his spectacles as Henry then retrieved some kind of (perhaps) ornamental stick and commented on its importance. He felt it prudent to perhaps ask about it later in lieu of now. Thinking of his uncle's pocket diary in his inner pocket, he supposed that they all had their own sentimental tokens to carry them through this endeavor. Then, the conversation began to focus the spotlight on Julian, prompting him to sit up straighter and clear his throat as he nodded with each sentence Henry spoke. "Ah, well yes, I suppose, Henry. Though if we're all unique, then everyone's the same, aren't they?" Julian joked, chuckling as he dismissed his own question with a wave. "But yes, I'm a Helix pilot--and mechanic too. Well kind of one, I'm not that good," he shrugged humbly. He looked past Henry then and glanced out the window wistfully "Anyway, I'm from Thorpe's Pier," Julian stated, hesitating a moment before making eye contact with Henry. "A sea sh-shanty in the, uh, Southwest. And I - ... well, to put it simply, I'm here to try to make it a great place again. Hopefully some day anyway, once I..." It was obvious that the subject made Julian nervous, but he persevered and pressed himself to finish his thought. "I just think if I get a high enough rank and prestige, I'll have the connections and knowledge I'd need to bring attention to my family and the people there. We used to proudly serve the United Empire, but now we can barely contribute anything at all." Henry might notice a flicker of fire in the young man's eyes. "But I'm going to change that," Julian stated solemnly, turning his head towards Rachel and Garret. 'But... what if I'm the one who gets changed instead?' Julian wondered, feeling at least mature enough to realize that your circumstances and company tended to change your character, whether you liked it or not.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A smile graces the First Nations man's face as he directs his attention to Julian. The well dressed young man speaking of his home, and his professions. That of a pilot and a mechanic. A trade, and a good one at that. He slowly nodded, listening and tapping the red tip of the length of wood to his bottom lip. After abit after Julian stopped talking Henry hummed softly, "Thrope's Pier. I can't say I know it. But it sounds ideal. Our home is always a vision of paradise for us. And your goal to make it and your family great again. Oh gaining rank, prestige and recognition. A fine goal. Just don't get lost in the quest for it. There are too many examples of people, men, women of many creeds and many peoples who get lost in a quest for glory. Not all of them come away from it with the greatest of rewards. Some...come away with the opposite. Rather then bathed in glory, they come out bathed in the blood of the innocent and shunned because of the evil they have done." He smiles, "But I'm sure a fine young man like yourself will be perfectly fine." He goes quiet for a time again before Henry speaks again, "As for us all being unique and thus making us all the same. There can be an argument against such an assumption. We may all have the unique traits of being HELIX pilots. But we are all our own seperate being, our personalities and up bringings and goals continue to make us unique despite being the same in the fashion that we are now compatriots." He nods sagely and whirls the painted and decorated length of wood tracing a brief spiral of red in the air. Henry hums, "I am not used to working in a large group like this Julian Brumbles. I am a Warrior, a Brave of the Grand Union of First Nations Communities. We have never had a standing army like United Empire or the Vertex. It's more along the lines of small groups of Warriors and braves protecting the borders of our ancestral lands." He smiles and taps the red tip of the piece of wood on the floor of the carrier, "This is what makes me unique. And the safety of the GUFNC, is what I strive for. My quest, much like yours." He points the length of wood, red tip first at Julian, "I'll count the coup, until my last day, for the safety of my peoples. My cousins."</s>	<\|message\|>HELIX Frame Sheet The pilot over in the front smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "We're rounding up on the base, it ain't the prettiest but she works well. I'm going to have to put 'er down on a landing pad a little far away from the main complex, the others are too slippery for this bird with this accursed storm. Go look outside a window or something, main complex is in the middle." The dropship cruises over a hill, revealing the base and all its sprawling components, SAM sites watching the skies for any intruder that dares come close. The base covered layered in white by the snow, a rather uninviting feel within the white hell of Alaska. It used to be calmer before the war broke out, but it's a dangerous bet living here regardless. The dropship circles around the base, switching to VTOL and slowly coming down, gear extending to kiss the ground softly, suspension compressing as the engines power down. The pilot looks back, eyeing the HELIX pilots one by one. "Not much time for sightseeing, aight? Cold and windy out here, best to get inside sooner rather than later." On the ground a dry red word can be seen inscribed upon the wall of the main complex, 'Snowbirds'. With a sharp eye, the motto 'United we hunt. Divided we strike.' is seen below the name. A somewhat cheesy motto for sure, but it serves the purpose quite well. Next to it, a contrasting black door is spotted, well that shows their way in. The other complexes close by seem to be warehouses and a communication station, housing the primary ways to reach out for assistance and reports. A large radar system stands upon another building, smaller ones dotted around the entire area. Armed to the teeth, and with the HELIX hangar being seen not too obviously connected to the main base, this place is surprisingly well hidden yet the feeling of fear could certainly be felt. This place is their home now, their new boss having certainly been here a while. Not to get too distracted, however, the pilot moves a hand to a switch on the side. "Opening her up now, get moving before y'all get bit by the cold." The switch is flipped, the rear door opening up, flipping downwards to form a ramp. Now it's their turn to move, their pilot having brought them all this way.</s>
<\|description\|>Henry Makokis Pilot Appearance: Henry is an interesting sort. Niether tall and muscular, nor short and stocky. He is a decent 6 feet tall, with a whip like build, quick both physically and mentally. His skin is a leathery red of a person who is used to spending long hours out in the strong sun. Once upon a time his hair was a dark and long black, but now it's a salt and pepper black and grey. What doesn't look like he's been weathered, is his piercing dark eyes. Eyes that seem to stare into a person's soul. A First Nations man of Canada of distinguished appearance. His hair is always cut back into what is called "The Warrior's Braid" a long hefty braid of hair that travels down his back almost to his waist. Personality: Henry is a approachable man. Kind, thoughtful, welcoming. He will be just as likely to crack a obscure joke as he is to start intoning some strange old take of the Cree Peoples. He's an intelligent man, holding Doctorates in Biosciences, Mathematics and Astrophysics. Making him quite educated and erudite. But he'd sooner debate the Edmonton Oilers and the Calgary Flames then whether or no Betelguese is about to go super nova. Backstory: The Great Union of First Nations Communities, a political and social conglomeration of all the American Indian and Canadian First Nations reserves and communities across the North American Continent. A united group for all First Nations people to live peacefully and in prosperity, as well as to have all the comforts and legal means that anyone ele may have. This came about after a long hard fight in political and social arena's around the north american continent and around the world even. Culminating in a massive showing and address with the UN several decades ago. It was a long and hard fought battle. But soon all the myraid number of reserves were recognized as a nation onto themselves. And this Crees and Creeks. Mohawk and Pawnee. Cherokee and Blackfoot. All alike were given the rights and all things they needed to join the rest of the peoples of the world in prosperity. To make sure they could keep this way, as time went on, the GUFNC employed their own defense forces. Helix Frames and small militia groups who patrolled their lands to keep it safe from people who would come in and misuse it. This is where Henry came in. From a young age, he always felt he's something more. Something a little more useful to the Union. A defender. What would be called a Brave among some of the nations. This is what Henry endeavoured to be for the GUFNC. It took a long time, what with his education he wanted to get. He was a slightly older 42 by the time he got his first HELIX Frame. But then when he did get it he declared he'd act as the defender of the rights of all the GUFNC no matter what happened. He spent many years defending the lands of the Saddle Lake, Kehewin and Smokey Lake communities before he was tasked with joining the Snowbirds, a representative from the GUFNC was needed and he was chosen by the Council of Elders and Matriarch. He packed up his belongings, and shipped his HELIX up to the location, arrive just a few mere hours behind it. He boarded up his HELIX and made his way to the Snowbird Base. Instead of defending the lands of his people. He's defending the vast north int he name of everyone. Misc Info: An adherent to the old customs, and spiritual beliefs of the First Nations peoples, he carries a coup stick with him everywhere he goes just in case. One of the first things he did when he arrived on base was to plant a War Post on the grounds of the base and bury the blade of a hatchet into it. Honoring his Mohawk cousin's ways in that moment. And he also offered a braid of sweet grass and a packet of tobacco to a local GUFNC community elder for their blessing. *Despite getting on in years, he's still quite spry. -------------------- HELIX Codename: The Brave Appearance: The Brave is a fast thin Frame model. One of the first Frames that was developed, built and produced exclusively by the GUFNC factories. It's black silver, blue and red frame is well armored for something with it's cross section. And sports the GUFNC mohawk crest on it's head section, made from silvered cabling welded onto the top and back of the head. The hands are extremely agile for a Helix frame of it's shape and size. Class: Medium, 14.5 meters tall Role: CQC, Mid range saturation, Mid range energy based Equipment: Head: The Tri-eye sensor array - Three blue eyes with omni directional sensors that pick up input in Visual, Radar and Infra-red Shoulders: Left - Five-barrel Heavy Gattling laser Cannon Right - Hi-Focus Heavy Plasma Lance (A energy weapon that super heats 3 foot long tungsten bolts then launches them in a tight blast) Back: Ordnance Interdiction system - A 20 round HELIX Frame sized trophy system that can track and pick off missiles, or rockets. Limited ammo, limited usage. Waist: Booster Jets for faster lateral and forward motion. Right Arm: Underslung Defuse-focus High Energy Laser cannon - Fast firing, low damage energy weapon Left and Right hands: The Coup System - Right Hand houses a Large Heated edge Helix Frame sized tomahawk. The Left Hand houses a combat knife, fitted to Helix proportions. Made from Titanium and Osmium composites. Long enough to pierce through the armor of a Frames core with a good amount of power behind it. Legs and feet: High output thrusters and jets designed to give The Brave high enough speed to cover distances quickly to close the distance with an enemy Frame and utilize it's Tomahawk and Knife to good effect. Or to put distance to use it's longer range weaponry.</s> <\|message\|>Garret Lent Sitting cross armed and cross legged, removed from the world around him, Garret sat in a trance considering Helix frames and the futility of geopolitics. The information from the pilot was not much of a concern. He did not seem like anyone with that much authority and in all honesty Garret could probably get by through tacitly following the bulk of his team to be when they touched down or perhaps just following the instructions of someone else repeating them on the ground. Admittedly neither was really a guarantee. What did threaten to break his trance was the know it all harassing the pilot. Even if Garret did not actually respect the man it was not really an excuse to go out of your way to get in his. Then the man in front of him started to flail around for his missing glasses. Though perhaps it was better to describe him as an overly dressed child. Garret did not move save for his eyes which darted around to try and find the kid's glasses if for no other reason than for a marginal decrease in the noise. He did not find them, but the woman from the front of the dropship had come back to do just that. "Shouldn't happen again from here on out. We're in the pipe, five by five" she said handing them back. Something about that phrase broke Garret. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" he said without thinking. He regretted it immediately. So long peace and quiet.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A troop carrier. With many a body in it. Pilots. All of them in one way or another. It's no secret. They'd all been called out of their former postings. One of the people sounded like a Airforce personality. He couldn't really tell. Another sounded a little innocent of all the things needed to be a full on warrior for the protection of those you care for. And then a third, a little miffed at something by the sound of it. He couldn't actually see the people. Because Henry Makokis, HELIX Pilot for the Great Union of First Nations Communities is purposefully keeping his eyes closed through out the ride. Pretending to sleep. Main point being pretending. He'd found isn't a good way to get a sense of new people. Because they say and do things differently if a person thinks you're awake and aware. Versus asleep and unaware. It tells you things. Yes indeed. Makes sense really, it's all a very moniyew thing to do. He gives off a very convincing sniff as he pretends to wake. The tall, lanky, and thin but whip cord like muscled Canadian First Nations man waking from a very long nap. One he'd been taking since they left the base some time ago. Henry looks about the interior. Connecting voices to faces and bodies now. His eyes taking in details quickly. These people are to be his squad mates. After so long working alone or with maybe one other Warrior of the GUFNC, it'll be quite an interesting thing to work with them all. And makes him wonder how well his HELIX, The Brave, will work with these pilots and their machines. Only time will tell. With a yawn, again rather convincing, he looks ahead, "Almost to our new home." He says in a rich yet soft voice. He smiles and nods, "What does the future hold I wonder. What adventures." He reaches back over his shoulder and smooths the long braid of his hair down a little, then turns to look out the small window closest him, "So much white. Doesn't look so bad."</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles THE OVERLY DRESSED young man felt utter relief as it seemed someone had found his spectacles, and promptly handed to him. Not thrown at him, or kicked at him. Standing to his feet, Julian dusted himself off and eagerly put them back on. The full view of Rachel came into his focus--even with her aviator glasses on, Julian could see that she was pretty. His male gaze lingered a little longer than he'd realized, causing him to stammer and turn red. "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," he replied hastily, adverting his eyes. He was about to be brave and introduce himself when someone snarked at his rescuer. 'Another time,' Julian thought, leaving Rachel to deal with Garret. As he returned to his seat, the young man overheard an intriguing voice. It was almost too soft to be heard, yet it carried Julian's eyes towards the source automatically. He noticed a man with a long braid of hair, seeming to speak to himself. Julian held onto that bravery he'd seized from his encounter with Rachel and decided to introduce himself to Henry instead. He seemed nice enough and Julian knew they would all have to work together some time soon anyway. "Hello," Julian greeted, with a slight smile. The man had said adventure? "I suppose it could be an adventure, albeit I reckon it won't be a fun one." He extended a gloved hand, "My name is Julian...uh, I mean, Julian Brumbles."</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw "O-oh! Yes, t-thank y-yit, I mean, thank you so much," the man said to Rachel. She smiled back to him and nodded, "Would be bad if you were blind in your HELIX." she chuckled and poked her tongue out at him. Rachel thought his nervous response was rather endearing, though not very indicative of a military man. Then again, the advent of HELIX frames had a tack-on effect of attracting some rather unique individuals. She couldn't be too surprised. "Do you get off to the sound of your own voice or do you just consider yourself to be that important?" another passenger said rather rudely to her. Rachel looked at him, the reflective lenses of her aviators hiding her eyes as they blinked. Rachel shrugged, then nodded at the first half of his comment, "Yeah I kinda do like the sound of my voice actually. It sounds great when I'm being kind to people," she thumbs back to Julian while continuing to speak to Garret, "You'd probably like yours a lot more too if you tried being nicer to strangers, not to mention future wingmen." She then thought about the latter portion of his question, a matter of importance. Rachel nodded again, "Oh I'm definitely important, don't even need to consider that for a moment. I'm important, just like you are. And you," she upnodded to Julian, "And him over there too." She gestured to the man who appeared to be just waking from a nap. Rachel leaned against a seat with an elbow over the top of it while keeping her eyes on Garret, "HELIX pilots don't just happen, after all. We're pioneers of the next technological era, hand picked from the vast military of the United Empire to handle the most advanced machines ever made. The difference between us is that I have the confidence to verbally acknowledge my importance to the empire." Rachel span into a seat and threw a hand behind her head while another reached into a pocket to pull out a phone. She tapped away at it for some time before glancing sidelong to Garret. "Rachel Crenshaw, by the way." She held out a hand for a shake as she introduced herself to the man who was just a moment ago throwing shade at her.</s>	<\|message\|>Henry Makokis With a smiles Henry straightened up. He listened to the repartee between Rachel and Garret, finding it a little amusing. The obviously cocky but sure woman speaking confidently towards the quite rude young man. It's really rather amusing to see the way the moniyew treat each other. He hums looking between the others in passenger section. Finally turning to the well dressed young man. Henry quirks his head slightly to the side and nods, "Julian Brumbles ci? Well, Tansi niya Henry Makokis nisikason, Onichiskawaponi sikiaso." Henry stops himself a second and sighs, "I'm sorry, the GUFNC has a more or less mandated rule that we speak our languages as often as we can. The many languages of the First Nations people were dying out before the GUFNC came about. I try to speak as much of it as I can, forgetting that not everyone speaks Cree, or Dene'tha or any of the other hundred or so tongues of the GUFNC." He chuckles, "I'm sorry let me start again." He clears his throat, "Julian Brumbles? Well Hello there, I am Henry Makokis, that's my name. I come from Saddle Lake lands." He smiles and shrugs, then reaches out, and with a firm grip he shakes Julian's hand, "You can call me Henry though if you like, Mr. Brumbles." He let's Julian's hand go and leans back, he then calmly reaches over to where a thin length of wood, painted grey up to the last inch of the tip where it's painted a bright red. many different eagle and hawk feathers hang from it's length. He takes the stick and tucks it up under his left arm, "Can't lose this." He looks to Julian, "So while the others try to establish a pecking order, tell me about yourself Julian Brumbles, what brings you out here? You're a HELIX pilot yes? You don't look like the usual HELIX pilot I've ever seen. Well I guess I'm not either." He gestures at his own surpisingly casual outfit. A hide vest, with snake skin sewn to the breast, and fur fringe hanging from the wait hem and leather fringes at the wrist. A buckhide pants and combat boots. Ending with a canvas shirt more or less. Something very easy to put together really. He brings the stick he grabbed up and taps the red tip to his bottom lip, "But then if we're all here we're all a little unique I guess?"</s>
<\|description\|>Henry Makokis Pilot Appearance: Henry is an interesting sort. Niether tall and muscular, nor short and stocky. He is a decent 6 feet tall, with a whip like build, quick both physically and mentally. His skin is a leathery red of a person who is used to spending long hours out in the strong sun. Once upon a time his hair was a dark and long black, but now it's a salt and pepper black and grey. What doesn't look like he's been weathered, is his piercing dark eyes. Eyes that seem to stare into a person's soul. A First Nations man of Canada of distinguished appearance. His hair is always cut back into what is called "The Warrior's Braid" a long hefty braid of hair that travels down his back almost to his waist. Personality: Henry is a approachable man. Kind, thoughtful, welcoming. He will be just as likely to crack a obscure joke as he is to start intoning some strange old take of the Cree Peoples. He's an intelligent man, holding Doctorates in Biosciences, Mathematics and Astrophysics. Making him quite educated and erudite. But he'd sooner debate the Edmonton Oilers and the Calgary Flames then whether or no Betelguese is about to go super nova. Backstory: The Great Union of First Nations Communities, a political and social conglomeration of all the American Indian and Canadian First Nations reserves and communities across the North American Continent. A united group for all First Nations people to live peacefully and in prosperity, as well as to have all the comforts and legal means that anyone ele may have. This came about after a long hard fight in political and social arena's around the north american continent and around the world even. Culminating in a massive showing and address with the UN several decades ago. It was a long and hard fought battle. But soon all the myraid number of reserves were recognized as a nation onto themselves. And this Crees and Creeks. Mohawk and Pawnee. Cherokee and Blackfoot. All alike were given the rights and all things they needed to join the rest of the peoples of the world in prosperity. To make sure they could keep this way, as time went on, the GUFNC employed their own defense forces. Helix Frames and small militia groups who patrolled their lands to keep it safe from people who would come in and misuse it. This is where Henry came in. From a young age, he always felt he's something more. Something a little more useful to the Union. A defender. What would be called a Brave among some of the nations. This is what Henry endeavoured to be for the GUFNC. It took a long time, what with his education he wanted to get. He was a slightly older 42 by the time he got his first HELIX Frame. But then when he did get it he declared he'd act as the defender of the rights of all the GUFNC no matter what happened. He spent many years defending the lands of the Saddle Lake, Kehewin and Smokey Lake communities before he was tasked with joining the Snowbirds, a representative from the GUFNC was needed and he was chosen by the Council of Elders and Matriarch. He packed up his belongings, and shipped his HELIX up to the location, arrive just a few mere hours behind it. He boarded up his HELIX and made his way to the Snowbird Base. Instead of defending the lands of his people. He's defending the vast north int he name of everyone. Misc Info: An adherent to the old customs, and spiritual beliefs of the First Nations peoples, he carries a coup stick with him everywhere he goes just in case. One of the first things he did when he arrived on base was to plant a War Post on the grounds of the base and bury the blade of a hatchet into it. Honoring his Mohawk cousin's ways in that moment. And he also offered a braid of sweet grass and a packet of tobacco to a local GUFNC community elder for their blessing. *Despite getting on in years, he's still quite spry. -------------------- HELIX Codename: The Brave Appearance: The Brave is a fast thin Frame model. One of the first Frames that was developed, built and produced exclusively by the GUFNC factories. It's black silver, blue and red frame is well armored for something with it's cross section. And sports the GUFNC mohawk crest on it's head section, made from silvered cabling welded onto the top and back of the head. The hands are extremely agile for a Helix frame of it's shape and size. Class: Medium, 14.5 meters tall Role: CQC, Mid range saturation, Mid range energy based Equipment: Head: The Tri-eye sensor array - Three blue eyes with omni directional sensors that pick up input in Visual, Radar and Infra-red Shoulders: Left - Five-barrel Heavy Gattling laser Cannon Right - Hi-Focus Heavy Plasma Lance (A energy weapon that super heats 3 foot long tungsten bolts then launches them in a tight blast) Back: Ordnance Interdiction system - A 20 round HELIX Frame sized trophy system that can track and pick off missiles, or rockets. Limited ammo, limited usage. Waist: Booster Jets for faster lateral and forward motion. Right Arm: Underslung Defuse-focus High Energy Laser cannon - Fast firing, low damage energy weapon Left and Right hands: The Coup System - Right Hand houses a Large Heated edge Helix Frame sized tomahawk. The Left Hand houses a combat knife, fitted to Helix proportions. Made from Titanium and Osmium composites. Long enough to pierce through the armor of a Frames core with a good amount of power behind it. Legs and feet: High output thrusters and jets designed to give The Brave high enough speed to cover distances quickly to close the distance with an enemy Frame and utilize it's Tomahawk and Knife to good effect. Or to put distance to use it's longer range weaponry.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis A smile graces the First Nations man's face as he directs his attention to Julian. The well dressed young man speaking of his home, and his professions. That of a pilot and a mechanic. A trade, and a good one at that. He slowly nodded, listening and tapping the red tip of the length of wood to his bottom lip. After abit after Julian stopped talking Henry hummed softly, "Thrope's Pier. I can't say I know it. But it sounds ideal. Our home is always a vision of paradise for us. And your goal to make it and your family great again. Oh gaining rank, prestige and recognition. A fine goal. Just don't get lost in the quest for it. There are too many examples of people, men, women of many creeds and many peoples who get lost in a quest for glory. Not all of them come away from it with the greatest of rewards. Some...come away with the opposite. Rather then bathed in glory, they come out bathed in the blood of the innocent and shunned because of the evil they have done." He smiles, "But I'm sure a fine young man like yourself will be perfectly fine." He goes quiet for a time again before Henry speaks again, "As for us all being unique and thus making us all the same. There can be an argument against such an assumption. We may all have the unique traits of being HELIX pilots. But we are all our own seperate being, our personalities and up bringings and goals continue to make us unique despite being the same in the fashion that we are now compatriots." He nods sagely and whirls the painted and decorated length of wood tracing a brief spiral of red in the air. Henry hums, "I am not used to working in a large group like this Julian Brumbles. I am a Warrior, a Brave of the Grand Union of First Nations Communities. We have never had a standing army like United Empire or the Vertex. It's more along the lines of small groups of Warriors and braves protecting the borders of our ancestral lands." He smiles and taps the red tip of the piece of wood on the floor of the carrier, "This is what makes me unique. And the safety of the GUFNC, is what I strive for. My quest, much like yours." He points the length of wood, red tip first at Julian, "I'll count the coup, until my last day, for the safety of my peoples. My cousins."</s> <\|message\|>HELIX Frame Sheet The pilot over in the front smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "We're rounding up on the base, it ain't the prettiest but she works well. I'm going to have to put 'er down on a landing pad a little far away from the main complex, the others are too slippery for this bird with this accursed storm. Go look outside a window or something, main complex is in the middle." The dropship cruises over a hill, revealing the base and all its sprawling components, SAM sites watching the skies for any intruder that dares come close. The base covered layered in white by the snow, a rather uninviting feel within the white hell of Alaska. It used to be calmer before the war broke out, but it's a dangerous bet living here regardless. The dropship circles around the base, switching to VTOL and slowly coming down, gear extending to kiss the ground softly, suspension compressing as the engines power down. The pilot looks back, eyeing the HELIX pilots one by one. "Not much time for sightseeing, aight? Cold and windy out here, best to get inside sooner rather than later." On the ground a dry red word can be seen inscribed upon the wall of the main complex, 'Snowbirds'. With a sharp eye, the motto 'United we hunt. Divided we strike.' is seen below the name. A somewhat cheesy motto for sure, but it serves the purpose quite well. Next to it, a contrasting black door is spotted, well that shows their way in. The other complexes close by seem to be warehouses and a communication station, housing the primary ways to reach out for assistance and reports. A large radar system stands upon another building, smaller ones dotted around the entire area. Armed to the teeth, and with the HELIX hangar being seen not too obviously connected to the main base, this place is surprisingly well hidden yet the feeling of fear could certainly be felt. This place is their home now, their new boss having certainly been here a while. Not to get too distracted, however, the pilot moves a hand to a switch on the side. "Opening her up now, get moving before y'all get bit by the cold." The switch is flipped, the rear door opening up, flipping downwards to form a ramp. Now it's their turn to move, their pilot having brought them all this way.</s>	<\|message\|>Henry Makokis Henry gave another smile at Julian then looked forward as the pilot broadcast to them. He hums and peers out the porthole next to him. He peers out seeing the white of the Alaskan tundra. And down as they flew lower, he could see the outlines of large grey buildings. What looked like a Radar dish and accompanying instruments for it. Warehouses and communications installations. He nodded slowly and as they started to settle in he could see the HELIX frame hanger attached to the main command building. likely their first destination. Though he had other things he needed to do first. As they settled in he grabbed a heavy and thick jacket, made from hide by the look of it. With white wolf pelt around the neck. He also grabbed a kit bag that sat under his seat, and then as they crunched to the ground he stood, and pulled a large 3 meter long quarter of a foot wide pole of wood out of the overhead netting. And with it over his left shoulder and over his right his bag he turned to the way out. "I'll see you all at the command center. I have something I need to do." He gave a wink then trooped out of the lander. His combat boots crunched in the snow as he made path towards the command building, but slightly to one side. To an open area that didn't seem to be used for much more then some old crates that hadn't been shipped out yet. A good place as any. Still took him a little to get there. He looked over his shoulder only once, to check if the others are moving yet. It really didn't matter in the end. They'd get there just like he would. Finally he reached the spot, there he kneeled in the snow and from his kit bag, he brought a broad bladed tomahawk. A length of solid birth wood made the handle, gleaming silvered steel made the head which had various sigils and runes etched into it, ontop of the damascus steel foldings in the blade. At the very end of the handle a length of what looked like bone. Hefty and thick, the handle wrapped with yellow, white, blue and red silk lengths and finally tied to the handle just below the steel head is a quartete of eagle feathers, two of them golden eagle the other two bald eagle. It's a masterwork of some GUFNC craftsman truly. With the hatchet Henry chops one end of the pole down to a point, it's rough and isnt't fancy but it works. He gets to his feet and with a cry of strength he buries the pole 2 feet down and even into the concrete below. He nods sagely and draws a circle around the pole in the snow with the handle of the tomahawk. It's fast then as he swings the tomahawk up, and buries the blade of the hand axe to the handle in the wood of the pole. A resounding war whoop rings out as Henry tilts his head back and whoops to the air. Once...then...another war whoop. Twice...and then finally a third war whoop pierces the air. The sound of the cries echoing off the walls nearby. He relaxes his body, and picks his kit bag back up, "The first step." Said mostly to himself but loud enough for anyone who was curious enough to follow along. Slinging his kit bag up over his shoulders again he makes for the command building again, calling out to anyone to hear, "Anyone who moves that pole or takes that tomahawk! I'll personally tan your hide! Respect the rituals!" He makes his way then to the nearest doors into the command building, figuring he may as well join the rest of the team inside. The Sound of youtube.com/watch?v=sv29DzgiXZA / youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc and youtube.com/watch?v=-ML74J9Dq2U</s>
<\|description\|>Alistar "Annul" Gray Pilot Sheet Appearance: Personality: Alistar leans towards being carefree, though does not waste a second to assert who's in charge. Despite his rather lackluster physical traits, he's a quick and decisive mind. With sharp reflexes and a solid steady body, he shows precision that reminds most of a machine, a destroyer, hence his nickname "Annul". His mere gaze is described as piercing, though there is than meets the eye. Sometimes he'll put himself in a position to save someone he likes, despite his cold behavior. At times he can be rather foul-mouthed, his eternal sly smirk shifting to that of a distasteful frown. Backstory: Born in southern Canada, near Mississauga, he lived the majority of his childhood near a United Empire base, watching the machines move around with fascination. He spent his life in schools as an unknown, not showing much care to anything other than history. Whenever HELIX Frames were brought up, his eyes glimmered with life and hope. As soon as he turned 18, he went into the military and underwent the surgical procedure for the implant needed to even use a Frame. Whilst recovering from the surgery, a rebel group attacked the base, seeking to break the United Empire, many of his fellow soldiers were slaughtered in the coming onslaught, before they could even get their own Frames up and running. In a fury of vengeance, he left the infirmary and ran to the HELIX Frame hangar, climbing in one and taking control of it. With his newfound weapon and mental strain from using one far too soon, he found himself weakened, but nonetheless he pressed on. With his plasma sword, he seeked slaughter, slaughter to the enemy. He approached a battered and damaged Frame from behind, then cut him down with one swift slice. Taking it's gun, he raised the barrel and fired upon another rebel, ripping it's shields apart from the sheer lane of fire. The machine swung around and dashed to him, slamming a mighty fist into the machine's torso, knocking him back and sending him skidding across the concrete floor. He brought up his gun and fired right into the Frame's torso, killing the pilot before he could slam right through the head of the machine. With another enemy on approach he ran behind cover, sending a kick right through the metal walls and into it's head before it fired. It then launched swarm missiles at Alistar, damaging his machine and plasma sword. He launched himself at the enemy, slamming heads together and a punch to the shoulder. With a returning punch from the enemy, he stumbled back, but kicked the enemy down, falling on it and replacing the machine's head with his fist. He won, if barely, but at what cost for him and the base? Misc Info: He's 30, but looks to be in 20 due to anti-aging treatments. He prefers dark colors to bright ones, as they allow him to calm down. --- HELIX Frame Sheet Codename: EYE2 Appearance: 10 meters tall Class: Medium Role: General purpose brawler. Equipment: Plasma Lances (x2) - Arm - These plasma lances are used against machines close up or to quickly strip down Phalanx Shields, they can also be charged up to fire a beam of plasma a short distance, capable of piercing through a Frame at maximum charge. They cannot be used while holding weapons, otherwise it'll cut right through them. Smoke Capsules (x6) - Torso - These smoke capsules are used to hide itself from machines up close, they allow EYE2 to have enough time to move into an advantageous position. Anti Missile Laser (x2) - Shoulder - The AML allows EYE2 to destroy incoming missiles with pinpoint accuracy. Interestingly, they also kill infantry instantly, and can hit them. When fired for too long they must vent their heat, and inadvertently affects the sensor arrays on EYE2. MOTORVIPER - Hand - The MOTORVIPER is a general purpose assault rifle, capable of being used by any similarly sized HF with normal hands. It has enough ammo to tough through standard operations thanks to extra mags being kept hidden on the hips of EYE2. Due to not being a specialized weapon, it is special in no way, though EYE2 hits further and more accurately than predicted specifications. NIGHTLING - Hand - The NIGHTLING is a heavy shotgun produced specifically for EYE2, it has a heavy round load capable of shredding through lighter Frames up close, however due to the recoil, it cannot be fired in quick succession. The NIGHTLING has a somewhat long reload time, as it must be fed rounds by an autoloader contained in EYE2's left hip. Vanguard - Torso - The Vanguard system is used to enhance dashes in all directions except vertically, this allows EYE2 to suddenly speed up and change direction, however use of it wastes Phalanx Shields. Hugin - Head - Hugin is used to analyze any close structure or HELIX Frame, analyzing what it may contain and structural weaknesses, usage of Hugin temporarily disables other sensor packages. Munin - Torso - Using information gathered from Hugin, Munin works in tandem with the main processor to figure out if new Frames spotted match previously recorded information, showing Alistar predicted armaments. This is incredibly useful as he knows what to expect. Modified weapon systems will sometimes not show up properly for Munin's analysis.</s> <\|message\|>Henry Makokis Henry gave another smile at Julian then looked forward as the pilot broadcast to them. He hums and peers out the porthole next to him. He peers out seeing the white of the Alaskan tundra. And down as they flew lower, he could see the outlines of large grey buildings. What looked like a Radar dish and accompanying instruments for it. Warehouses and communications installations. He nodded slowly and as they started to settle in he could see the HELIX frame hanger attached to the main command building. likely their first destination. Though he had other things he needed to do first. As they settled in he grabbed a heavy and thick jacket, made from hide by the look of it. With white wolf pelt around the neck. He also grabbed a kit bag that sat under his seat, and then as they crunched to the ground he stood, and pulled a large 3 meter long quarter of a foot wide pole of wood out of the overhead netting. And with it over his left shoulder and over his right his bag he turned to the way out. "I'll see you all at the command center. I have something I need to do." He gave a wink then trooped out of the lander. His combat boots crunched in the snow as he made path towards the command building, but slightly to one side. To an open area that didn't seem to be used for much more then some old crates that hadn't been shipped out yet. A good place as any. Still took him a little to get there. He looked over his shoulder only once, to check if the others are moving yet. It really didn't matter in the end. They'd get there just like he would. Finally he reached the spot, there he kneeled in the snow and from his kit bag, he brought a broad bladed tomahawk. A length of solid birth wood made the handle, gleaming silvered steel made the head which had various sigils and runes etched into it, ontop of the damascus steel foldings in the blade. At the very end of the handle a length of what looked like bone. Hefty and thick, the handle wrapped with yellow, white, blue and red silk lengths and finally tied to the handle just below the steel head is a quartete of eagle feathers, two of them golden eagle the other two bald eagle. It's a masterwork of some GUFNC craftsman truly. With the hatchet Henry chops one end of the pole down to a point, it's rough and isnt't fancy but it works. He gets to his feet and with a cry of strength he buries the pole 2 feet down and even into the concrete below. He nods sagely and draws a circle around the pole in the snow with the handle of the tomahawk. It's fast then as he swings the tomahawk up, and buries the blade of the hand axe to the handle in the wood of the pole. A resounding war whoop rings out as Henry tilts his head back and whoops to the air. Once...then...another war whoop. Twice...and then finally a third war whoop pierces the air. The sound of the cries echoing off the walls nearby. He relaxes his body, and picks his kit bag back up, "The first step." Said mostly to himself but loud enough for anyone who was curious enough to follow along. Slinging his kit bag up over his shoulders again he makes for the command building again, calling out to anyone to hear, "Anyone who moves that pole or takes that tomahawk! I'll personally tan your hide! Respect the rituals!" He makes his way then to the nearest doors into the command building, figuring he may as well join the rest of the team inside. The Sound of youtube.com/watch?v=sv29DzgiXZA / youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc and youtube.com/watch?v=-ML74J9Dq2U</s> <\|message\|>Rachel Crenshaw Rachel raised a brow at Garret when she heard his response. Now that wasn't a nice thing to say. She had only been giving some playful sass and instead received a verbal middle finger. Rachel shrugged and watched out of the window as the dropship approached the base. It all felt so similar to her, like she had just stepped off into a colder version of the base her previous squadron called home. When the craft touched down, Rachel stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. She moved toward the back as the ramp began to open. "Thanks for the lift. Here's hoping for clear skies." Rachel said to the pilot, offering a fist bump to him as she passed. The pilot bumped his fist to hers, their brief rivalry ending with a sort of kinship between pilots. Rachel stepped down the ramp and felt the cold wind whip at her face. The collar of her bomber coat flipped up in the wind, thankfully masking her jawline and some of her cheek to the chill. She was glad that she was wearing her sunglasses, as the clear skies allowed for the sunlight to reach the snow and bounce off unmolested. Everything was just... bright. Even with her sunglasses, Rachel found herself squinting somewhat. She was used to the perpetual cloudiness of Great Britain. Rachel didn't move much further from the dropship though. She turned and waited for the other HELIX pilots to dismount and join her. If they were to be a unit, it was best for them to get into the habit of sticking together now, even if one of them was quickly becoming unlikable to Rachel. "Let's get a move on, pilots! I don't want this cold creeping any further up my spine."</s> <\|message\|>Julian A. Brumbles IT WAS TIME. As Henry and Julian ceased their conversing and prepared to brace the bitter cold--both of nature and their future missions--the latter held back his breath, trying to drown an anxious sigh. Julian returned to his seat, thinking about the pilot's words. He retrieved a large black overcoat that he'd taken off during their flight; It kept him warm, perhaps too warm, but now it was the only comfort item that would steady his nerves. Julian worried incessantly, a variety of dark thoughts plaguing his mind. Rachel's call to her comrades cause him to snap back from the brink. It anchored him, and he silently thanked her for it. As the transport door opened, Julian growled under his breath and held his bowler hat tightly with his right hand, his carry-on in his left hand. He marched straight into the whiteness, keeping pace with Rachel and Henry--he wasn't about to be left behind. Like Rachel, he also felt that they should stick together, for better or for worse. This entire ordeal felt strangely like the starting events of a wedding ceremony, not that Julian had any idea of what a wedding was like, nor the after-effect of marriage. Regardless, he was determined to care about his comrades even if he had to embrace his deepest fears a thousand times over. 'At least Henry and Rachel seem to care,' Julian mused, eyeing the motto in the distance. He could barely read it, but as he squinted in vain to clutch at clarity, he noticed that Henry began breaking off from the group. Glancing between Rachel and the others and the brave (he was truly brave, Julian felt), he decided to stay on track with the group. His pace did start to slow though, and he licked his lips as he watched Henry do whatever it was that he was doing. He really couldn't make out the thing in the ground, but the war whooping outright startled Julian. He even chuckled a little in spite of his fear, trying to feign confidence. As Henry returned, his words of warning presented a logical conundrum to Julian. But he dismissed it just as quickly as he had thought of it--in short, that the wind and snow would bury the ritual marker and render it effectively lost to them. He then changed his mind and would ask him anyway. Deciding to trust Henry would not look at him stupidly, Julian asked, "Well, uh, Henry, what about the wind? A-And the snow? Won't it bury the--oh." Julian could see more clearly now, the marker was taller than it had appeared at first to him. Chuckling and muttering 'never mind', he emphasized his dismissal of his question with a hand wave and head shake. Turning back towards the group and joining them, Julian chided himself. 'Stupid!'</s>	<\|message\|>Alistar "Annul" Gray When they reach the door it automatically slides open, revealing an airlock. After everyone enters the door slams shut behind them, the interior door opening with a soft welcome from the PA system, "New pilots have arrived. Please report immediately to the mess hall." The inside of the base is surprisingly homely, with proper flooring and decorations. Seems these guys can afford to spend a bit on luxury, a welcome change in the military. The walls are white, for the most part, gray at the bottom. This base is certainly odd, but nonetheless it's time to move. When they enter the cafeteria there's one person clad in a dark blue suit, with pink hair and emerald green eyes. He rests with a relaxed yet firm posture, like he's the boss and he knows it. He looks nothing special, not muscular or visibly strong, yet his hand moves with an almost assassin-like grace, lifting his fork and taking a bite from his mac and cheese. After swallowing he looks over at the new pilots, speaking before they even have a chance to say something. "So you're the people I've been waiting for! Welcome to the snowbirds, grab something to eat and come over here, you've been ferried around quite a bit I can assume, best to eat a proper meal before talking. Hunger makes you angry after all!"</s>
<\|description\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Age: 32 Gender: Female Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 80kg Former Regiment: Mordian Iron Guard Speciality: Company Captain Appearance: Arlena could, if you looked past much of her steelier exterior, be called 'beautiful.' To do so, one would need to take in her rich black hair, hazelnut eyes and tanned olive skin, whilst at the same time looking past a back rigid from perpetually standing to attention, the long scar trailing from between her eyebrows to down below her jawline, her nose showing signs of being stitched back together and, the rare times it is visible, the pockmarked scar tissue along her right hand side visible without her shirt on. Besides the more immediate aspects of her appearance there is also the fact that despite being of no small rank she has clearly spent a not-insignificant amount of time toning her physique. Her figure is muscled and fairly bulky, and when she rolls up her sleeves to assist with moving or carrying something it definitely shows. Uniform: Golden epaulettes, commissar-like cap, rich blue overcoat and fine trousers interwoven with flak armour. These are the clothes of the Mordian Iron Guard, and these are the clothes that have clad Arlena for countless years of marching across some of the toughest ground the Imperium has ever needed reclaiming. Hers are a little more reinforced than the common guardsman, being stiffer and woven with carapace, rather than the usual flak, and her epaulettes are slightly more ornate than the factory-fresh uniforms of Mordian recruits, but nonetheless Before entering any battlefield Arlena spends a frankly incredible amount of time polishing and ironing her clothing until it is wrinkle-free and she can see her own reflection in her boots- anyone else showing anywhere near her level of dedication when it comes to prim and proper dress will quickly find themselves on her good side. Armament: This really depends on the situation she expects to be leading her men into, but Arlena's rank as a captain affords her more powerful weapons than her lower-ranking colleagues. This tends to manifest itself in bolt weaponry, rather than the usual slug or las-throwing equivalent. Generally, she can be seem carrying a bolt pistol and an accompanying power-sabre, but rarely she may be seen with a human-scaled bolter, the chugging noise of rocket-engines firing spelling doom for the Emperor's enemies. Personality/Demeanour: Like most Mordians, Arlena can generally be described with a small handful of adjectives; 'stern,' 'grim,' and 'dour.' A heavy-handed disciplinarian when it comes to soldiers that step out of line, those that show a similar level of grit and dedication to herself can earn themselves her steely respect. Arlena is also a firm believer in leading from the front- she is not the sort of captain to sit back with a cadre of vox-casters and medics, but instead will be directing the firing line herself, adding her own shots to the volleys of the soldiers under command and, if the situation turns dire, assisting with stretchering the wounded, sandbagging up fortifications and carrying ammunition about. Greatest Ambition: Her highest aspiration is to serve the Emperor faithfully and dutifully until her death. This makes her perhaps the perfect guardsman in terms of desire. Greatest Hatred: Ill-discipline, ill-fitting clothes, ill-manneredness. Skills: Arlena's skills as a combatant are second to those required by leadership. With a steely resolve and utterly unflinching exterior, it is said that Arlena's voice has never broken a single time in her 14 years of service. She is quite capable of instilling this sort of discipline in her own men, be it through sufficient carrot or stick, and despite this all manages to be an above-average gunman and melee combatant. In addition to this, Arlena possesses what has to be one of the rarest skills in the entirety of the guard- the stones to tell a commissar they aren't doing their job properly. During her stint as a sergeant she astonished the auxiliary attached to her squad by suggesting punishments for actions that they hadn't considered needed reprimanding. History: Mordian is a thoroughly miserable world in every description of the world. With Arlena's mother succumbing to post-partum depression at a very young age and her father not faring much better, Arlena was, for much of her early childhood, something of a feral lass, scrambling through the pitch-black streets of her hive world home and scratching out a living each day in the hopes that the next would come and she could repeat the process. It was a world of difficulty and danger, but somehow, she survived, and more than that, pulled through harder and stronger, an iron rod blasted by hotter flames than its peers. Having joined a gang by the time she was a young teen, she would watch as her friends fell prey to drugs and alcohol at equally young ages, dying of overdoses or of overestimating their abilities in fights- she learned her lesson the hard way, a good portion of her face being carved open when she was 14 years old, the young girl surviving through grit and a merciful street doctor that meant her visage would be scarred, but not permanently ruined. At 17 years old she was involved in a particularly brutal turf war, one that was so rowdy that the local PDF were deployed to it. Picked up by the scruff of her neck by a Mordian trooper and practically press-ganged into the Guard initially, she took to the shining and discipline far too well for someone that had had none of it for most of her life. Nowadays, she would claim that the wild part of her life poorly reflected her true personality, for it was here, in the Iron Guard, that she proved herself. Deployed as part of the Mordian 246th, she would see action in three separate campaigns on four different worlds (and one moon,) each new environment clawing her slightly further up the ranks by her own grit and determination. Having twice fought orks and once fought renegades, she is no stranger to many of the threats that plague the Imperium, taking this new reforming not as something negative, but as a chance for her to forge these disparate souls into an efficient and brutal fighting force, like she was so many years ago. Miscellaneous: Arlena despises combat stims and their users, but has a particular weakness for dammassine; so much so that there are rumours the normally entirely by-the-regulations officer carries a hip flask of the stuff on her at all times, and, many a drunkard guardsman has accused her of drinking their confiscated amasec. Arlena is an absolutely mean regicide player. Perfectly willing to sacrifice vast swathes of pieces to secure herself victory, she is surprisingly gentle when it comes to beginners to the game, and is willing to teach anyone the basic rules once. Once they know those however, the kid gloves are permanently removed.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka 415633-983223-17-Zhatka had observed the rest of the Command Squad over the weeks spent in their company. He was not impressed. Lieutenant Sithech. Elderly. Weak, and weakening further. A superior- in absence of the Captain, the squad's presiding officer- but not important enough for life extension. Inappropriately jovial. Willing to die for the Emperor, at least. Trooper Charlene. Undisciplined. Unmotivated. Feckless. Lazy if not compelled. Unacceptable weakness. At least the Captain was willing to do so. Trooper Telaci. Nearly incomprehensible. Undisciplined. Untrustworthy. Jittery. Likely the sort to shoot those who couldn't shoot him back, if he decided to do so unjustly. Weakness. Such traits were incompatible with cohesion in a command squad. Trooper Richard. Heavy gunner. Strong. Focused. Arrogant, however. Inefficient use of a heavy bolter. It was designed to kill large numbers of enemies. It was not designed for precise shooting. Foolishness. Trooper Deacon. Gunner's mate. Improper focus. Too keen on survival. Attempted to spread his cult at any opportunity. Not interested. The Emperor asks that you die in his name. This would not include gathering supposed holy trinkets. Weakness. Corporal Tharn. Slow for a corporal. Partially deaf. Undisciplined. Unmotivated. Talked too much. Poor etiquette. Barely able to hold his lasgun properly. Weakness. It was hard to tell which of these was worst. Only Captain Di Fieroccu and Sergeant Cestarn seemed anywhere close to competent. The former was Mordian. Too intent on drama. Insistent that he not "walk to his death" on the battlefield. Nonetheless, disciplined. Willing to die for the Emperor. Firm leadership skills. Did not allow incompetence. Any Watchmaster would be proud, but for her failure to punish sufficiently. The latter was put together. Veteran. Still too jovial, but intelligent in his approaches. Fearless, as a grenadier ought to be. Neither was perfect, but they were impressive compared to the rest. The rest of the company were neither green nor veteran, mostly. Their training was impersonal. Their attitude was lax. Weakness. Training progressed too slowly, not harsh enough, albeit firmer for the command squad. It was necessary. It was appreciated. Still, too much time passed. One month before redeployment; two weeks in the Warp, a much greater span of months in realspace; days more moving to the destination in realspace. Incompetency. Much too slow. Vocintis might well have been gone by the time they arrived. Arrive they did, however. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka remained utterly silent in the straps of his harness, patiently awaiting the gunship's touchdown. His weapon was attached to the ship's wall; one strap of his pack remained over a free shoulder, firmly held in place; his outfit remained unchanged, down to the rebreather, but for nine squares of checker patterning placed upon the topmost segment of his breastplate. This latter idiosyncracy had been insisted upon by several squad members for identification purposes. Sensible enough. It was nonetheless undesirable. It marked him as an individual. That wasn't his purpose. None of this ought to have been his purpose. He was to die for the Emperor. This position, placement within Captain Di Fieroccu's command squad and her instructions to him, ran counter to this. He had tried to content himself. As long as he died doing the Emperor's will, he would ablate Krieg's shame but marginally. Yet it seemed insufficient, especially given... the rest of the command squad. 'It's been too long. In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement.' This was his response to the Lieutenant. He had not needed to steel himself. He was ever-steeled.</s> <\|message\|>Armsman Telaci Vast He had been off of a planet. He had felt at home, at peace... But then he had discovered that as a guardsman, he couldn't just part ways and rejoin the crew, and that there were armsmen actively monitering him. Him! A voidsman himself by trade, being monitored by his own bred'ren to make sure he behaved and kept to the ship! Even when he had talked to them, tried to explain his situation, they had been hardened, turned away from him. So it was, that in grim dissapointment he had gone through the motions of military life, stirring his inner flame only to ensure it didn't die enirely. But then it had been time to fight again. He had taken out his old shotgun and set to work. Cleaning out the barrel for the umpteenth time. Then he had slowly gone about fixing the elements to it. The stock, screwed in and secured. The foregrip, slid down and secured. Sight secured. He checked it, double checked it, triple checked it, and then took his lighter out, held it to the purity seal he had been handed by a red-robed man, then when the wax had melted just enough to become 'tacky,' he would press it against the side. "Right den, machin bred'ren. We gon' be workin' together 'gain, so no funny business, eh?" That was as good as his machine spirit prayers got really. When the call had came to sit down in he gunship, he had followed without comment, wrapping first the bandana around his head, and then placing the helmet down, tightening the strap. He strapped his FUBAR to his backpack, slid his knife into its sheath, and then slung his gun over his shoulder, walking towards the dropship. Once there, eyes darting about, he would remove his pack, strap himself in, and get ready for seeing a sky again. Looking towards the krieger, he would raise an eyebrow, shaking his head as he did so. He had quickly learned there was little to gain by asking him why he was so suicidal. "Would prefer t'be up 'ere directin' cannons den down on de ground, but, ifi gotta be doin' dis, den at least I be gettin' paid fi it."</s>	<\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu A song drifted through the dropship as it rattled through space and to a hot insertion. It was a mournful song, a song in High Gothic, but accented with the flavours of Mordia. "Era una notte che pioveva e che tirava un forte vento immaginatevi che grande tormento per un Mordino che stava a vegliàr." She looked about, knowing that there were none of her planetmen around her to sing with her. It was the sort of song that would normally be sung on the march, but she had turned it into almost a dirge, reluctantly admitting that her death was hurtling towards her faster than she could comprehend. "A mezzanotte arriva il cambio accompagnato dal capoposto ohi, sentinella, ritorna al tuo posto sotto la tenda a riposàr." The next verse came and went, but before she had finished the song she would note what the Krieger had said, and how she would need to be a Captain, not a Mordian. "Zhatka, I will not have you be throwing the Emperor's currency away as if it held no value. If you so much as think about hurling yourself headfirst into the first heretic or xenos we see, I will personally drag you back to your barracks in disgrace." She had rapidly learned that there was very little threatening a krieger with physical violence accomplished but this? This generally seemed to work quite well. "Right then ladies and gentlemen. Our duty as a command squad is to ensure that the soldiers under our banner are working in an orderly and efficient fashion. I will have no dereliction of duty, no recklessness, no cowardice and absolutely no splitting away from the squad, is that understood?"</s>
<\|description\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Age: 32 Gender: Female Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 80kg Former Regiment: Mordian Iron Guard Speciality: Company Captain Appearance: Arlena could, if you looked past much of her steelier exterior, be called 'beautiful.' To do so, one would need to take in her rich black hair, hazelnut eyes and tanned olive skin, whilst at the same time looking past a back rigid from perpetually standing to attention, the long scar trailing from between her eyebrows to down below her jawline, her nose showing signs of being stitched back together and, the rare times it is visible, the pockmarked scar tissue along her right hand side visible without her shirt on. Besides the more immediate aspects of her appearance there is also the fact that despite being of no small rank she has clearly spent a not-insignificant amount of time toning her physique. Her figure is muscled and fairly bulky, and when she rolls up her sleeves to assist with moving or carrying something it definitely shows. Uniform: Golden epaulettes, commissar-like cap, rich blue overcoat and fine trousers interwoven with flak armour. These are the clothes of the Mordian Iron Guard, and these are the clothes that have clad Arlena for countless years of marching across some of the toughest ground the Imperium has ever needed reclaiming. Hers are a little more reinforced than the common guardsman, being stiffer and woven with carapace, rather than the usual flak, and her epaulettes are slightly more ornate than the factory-fresh uniforms of Mordian recruits, but nonetheless Before entering any battlefield Arlena spends a frankly incredible amount of time polishing and ironing her clothing until it is wrinkle-free and she can see her own reflection in her boots- anyone else showing anywhere near her level of dedication when it comes to prim and proper dress will quickly find themselves on her good side. Armament: This really depends on the situation she expects to be leading her men into, but Arlena's rank as a captain affords her more powerful weapons than her lower-ranking colleagues. This tends to manifest itself in bolt weaponry, rather than the usual slug or las-throwing equivalent. Generally, she can be seem carrying a bolt pistol and an accompanying power-sabre, but rarely she may be seen with a human-scaled bolter, the chugging noise of rocket-engines firing spelling doom for the Emperor's enemies. Personality/Demeanour: Like most Mordians, Arlena can generally be described with a small handful of adjectives; 'stern,' 'grim,' and 'dour.' A heavy-handed disciplinarian when it comes to soldiers that step out of line, those that show a similar level of grit and dedication to herself can earn themselves her steely respect. Arlena is also a firm believer in leading from the front- she is not the sort of captain to sit back with a cadre of vox-casters and medics, but instead will be directing the firing line herself, adding her own shots to the volleys of the soldiers under command and, if the situation turns dire, assisting with stretchering the wounded, sandbagging up fortifications and carrying ammunition about. Greatest Ambition: Her highest aspiration is to serve the Emperor faithfully and dutifully until her death. This makes her perhaps the perfect guardsman in terms of desire. Greatest Hatred: Ill-discipline, ill-fitting clothes, ill-manneredness. Skills: Arlena's skills as a combatant are second to those required by leadership. With a steely resolve and utterly unflinching exterior, it is said that Arlena's voice has never broken a single time in her 14 years of service. She is quite capable of instilling this sort of discipline in her own men, be it through sufficient carrot or stick, and despite this all manages to be an above-average gunman and melee combatant. In addition to this, Arlena possesses what has to be one of the rarest skills in the entirety of the guard- the stones to tell a commissar they aren't doing their job properly. During her stint as a sergeant she astonished the auxiliary attached to her squad by suggesting punishments for actions that they hadn't considered needed reprimanding. History: Mordian is a thoroughly miserable world in every description of the world. With Arlena's mother succumbing to post-partum depression at a very young age and her father not faring much better, Arlena was, for much of her early childhood, something of a feral lass, scrambling through the pitch-black streets of her hive world home and scratching out a living each day in the hopes that the next would come and she could repeat the process. It was a world of difficulty and danger, but somehow, she survived, and more than that, pulled through harder and stronger, an iron rod blasted by hotter flames than its peers. Having joined a gang by the time she was a young teen, she would watch as her friends fell prey to drugs and alcohol at equally young ages, dying of overdoses or of overestimating their abilities in fights- she learned her lesson the hard way, a good portion of her face being carved open when she was 14 years old, the young girl surviving through grit and a merciful street doctor that meant her visage would be scarred, but not permanently ruined. At 17 years old she was involved in a particularly brutal turf war, one that was so rowdy that the local PDF were deployed to it. Picked up by the scruff of her neck by a Mordian trooper and practically press-ganged into the Guard initially, she took to the shining and discipline far too well for someone that had had none of it for most of her life. Nowadays, she would claim that the wild part of her life poorly reflected her true personality, for it was here, in the Iron Guard, that she proved herself. Deployed as part of the Mordian 246th, she would see action in three separate campaigns on four different worlds (and one moon,) each new environment clawing her slightly further up the ranks by her own grit and determination. Having twice fought orks and once fought renegades, she is no stranger to many of the threats that plague the Imperium, taking this new reforming not as something negative, but as a chance for her to forge these disparate souls into an efficient and brutal fighting force, like she was so many years ago. Miscellaneous: Arlena despises combat stims and their users, but has a particular weakness for dammassine; so much so that there are rumours the normally entirely by-the-regulations officer carries a hip flask of the stuff on her at all times, and, many a drunkard guardsman has accused her of drinking their confiscated amasec. Arlena is an absolutely mean regicide player. Perfectly willing to sacrifice vast swathes of pieces to secure herself victory, she is surprisingly gentle when it comes to beginners to the game, and is willing to teach anyone the basic rules once. Once they know those however, the kid gloves are permanently removed.</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was only being given more and more confirmation that treading the skies was not a great idea, though he forced himself to keep his face level and focused. At least he hoped he was, feeling the incoming fire against their transport as they hurtled further downwards towards the surface. His eyes half closed as he offered up a prayer to the Sky Father, continuing to wait to be released from the harness and to be free to get down to blessed ground. As much as he didn't like the idea of throwing himself from the transport into a brief free fall to the ground, but it beat getting shot into pieces before the transport could ever simply touch down properly and let the cargo walk off the transport as if it were a stroll into a sky port. The count down to the harnesses being released was a relief, a brief moment of respite in the face of the impending warfare. Rising when the harness released, heading for the nearest available exit and, the moment he could, throwing himself out of the transport almost eagerly. Adrenaline pumping as he plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a tumble and a roll, he didn't immediately throw himself upright, keeping to a knee and not simply throwing himself upwards into the line of potential fire. The classical sounds of warfare, the screams of dying, the rage of weapons fire, battle cries and incoherent noises that one could not simply piece apart without risking their own well being. He snapped the Lasgun to his shoulder, familiar weight of his cut down shotgun and large sword on his hip a reminder he hadn't lost his kit on the landing. The first he spotted was the Lieutenant, as others were landing, he barked out, the loud, booming voice capable of overriding the sounds of warfare and weapons fire. "This way! We regroup over here!" The sergeant was quick to move, joining the Lieutenant in cover, hopefully having rallied the others who were landing and giving them a location to rally to, a direction to go instead of simply wallowing in a hole, getting shot at and waiting for an unlucky weapon to strike them down. There was issues with sitting put, even if it was in a solid spot, eventually someone would find something to hit the position with that would end up wasting the Father's soldiers. Still, per the Captain's orders, no splitting the squad, so he took cover and waited by the Lieutenant for the rest to rally so they could advance towards actual objectives and do the Sky Father's bidding.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine. The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to. Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed. Death outside. Just as he sought. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact. The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.</s> <\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" The ship was taking fire. Corporal Tharn clung to his lasgun with one arm, the other hand white-knuckling the bench underneath him. The order came through. They were going to jump from the craft, a rolling bailout. It was, frankly, fething insane. Jumping from a moving air vehicle to the ground without so much as a strip of cloth to keep 'em safe? There was absolutely no way in the Warp they we- Green light, everyone stood up. By the God-Emperor, they were actually doing it. Jumping out of a damn gunship with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This was mad. Every singe person here was absolutely mad. Mordecai clutched his rifle close as they stepped towards the gate. Surely this was a joke. Surely they'd be told to sit back down and- And he was out. Tucked up in a rolling ball, one hand holding onto his flakweave cap, the other clutching his lasgun as close to his chest as possible. The rough jostling from the landing shook every bone in his body, and he was fairly certain he'd landed on a particularly sharp patch of dirt. Leaning up from laying on his back just enough to peer around him without exposing himself, he spotted the Krieger. Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, Mordecai took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he began to scrabble across the ground after the meltagunner, in a weird half-crawl half-walk, he pushed himself onward towards the rest of the command squad, scrabbling down into cover near them. He did his best to hold his rifle at the ready, though the amount of shaking coming from the Corporal was damn-near audible.</s>	<\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu Hovering bailout. Not the first one she had ever participated in. Adjusting her cap slightly, she would give her commsbead a tap to activate it, before her hands would reach down to her thigh and triple-check her power sword was secure in its couplings. As the bay doors opened up she would straighten her back, the people seated closer to the door bailing out rapidly. She would follow. A hand on the brim of her cap, she sprinted towards the door, and just as she was about to leave, stopped and pencil dropped out. Carapace armour was much touger than the usual flak armour, and its impact-dissipaiting properties worked especially well when pitted against blunt force trauma. Turning her knees to the ground, the captain would assess the battlefield in the brief moment of weightlessness before she made contact with the blood soaked mud, before sucking in a breath as the contact with the ground rippled through her entire body. Looking around, she spotted her squad hunkering down in a crater and nodded to herself. Good. A solid defensive position. Ripping her bolt pistol from her holster, she burst forward, boots squelching slightly in the mud, before crouching down in the middle of the crater. "Are you cold Corporal?" She said towards Tharn, grabbing the vox's microphone from his back and wiping some of the mud away from it. "No? Then stop shaking and hold your rifle steady, by the Emperor." Shaking her head, she pressed the broadcast button- the squad's commsbeads lighting up as she did so. "Listen up! You may have had a rough landing you may have already seen your comrades die, but now is not the time to baulk in the face of adversity. We did not cross the bloodied fields of Vernum to cower here today! Reform your squads, reestablish your chain of command and wherever you see the banner of our regiments, rally to them! Show these bastards what true servants of the Emperor can do!" She removed her finger, head whirling around. "Where's that damn fool fake Cadian and the voidsman?"</s>
<\|description\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" Age: 21 Gender: Male Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 85kg Former Regiment: 232nd Cadian Mechanized Artillery, listed on transfer papers as "223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry." Speciality: Basilisk Artillery Tank Operator, listed on transfer papers as "Infantry Weapons Specialist." Appearance: Time as a vehicle crewman far from the frontlines has left Mordecai a little lax in keeping up proper appearance as a guardsman. Beyond the physical standards expected of every single position no matter their role, he leaves much to be desired. His ruddy brown hair is often more disheveled than it should be, the outline of protective goggles is permanently formed around his face from countless hours of sun and residue, framing his striking violet eyes(a natural Cadian abnormality). His forearms are sharply more tanned and colored than the rest of his fair complexion and naturally paled color, detailing his penchant for rolling up his fatigue sleeves to combat the heat of the tank and its main cannon. Other than the occasional burn scar from freshly-ejected shells or hot machine parts from the tank, his body is free of cuts, bruises, scrapes and other unnatural blemishes. While not visibly noticeable, his time operating the vehicle carrying a massive Earthshaker cannon has left him both somewhat unphased by the loud sounds of war, as well as suffering from notable hearing loss, which can make casual conversation in quiet conditions more than a bit frustrating for both parties. Uniform: The standard Cadian fatigues, newly issued in the colors of the 87th Combined, paired with black combat boots, light vehicle crewman flak armor, a light flakweave field cap for head protection, knee pads, and thick operator gloves. A pair of protective goggles are generally kept wrapped around his head or headgear when not being worn over his eyes, and a personal micro-comm ear and mouth set dons the left side of his face. A secondary dress uniform is kept for parade and inspection, consisting of an olive drab single-breasted coat with a high collar and formal, tailored pants tucked into black jackboots. The coat features thin epaulets with a solid red stripe lining the edge, denoting the wearer as an artillery regiment member. Armament: As the vehicle commander of his original Basilisk crew, Mordecai was issued a standard Cadian M36 Kantrael lasgun, but with many of the redundant and non-load bearing aspects of the weapon removed to decrease the size and weight, while still maintaining a higher range and power than the standard lascarbine. However, this has since been replaced with a stock MG Kantrael "Short" pattern lasgun, which is a fair bit bulkier than he'd grown accustomed to. He also keeps the standard combat knife bayonet on hand, with it having commonly doubled as a screwdriver, hammer, or prybar during his time in the Basilisk. An autopistol with a single twenty round magazine is generally tucked into a small holster in his field uniform, serving as a quickly-reached sidearm in a dire situation. Personality/Demeanour: His time in the rear, and in a semi-isolated vehicle crew at that, has made Mordecai complacent, and it very much shows. Much more of a slacker and layabout than one would expect for someone raised Cadian, his casualness is bound to get him put at the wrong end of some disciplinary reports soon. He's very amicable, having enjoyed the closeness and camaraderie once shared with his former crewmen, but can be a bit annoying in his constant attempts to break up the quiet with chatter and small talk. He also seems to lack the proper mindset for how to behave around superiors, having forgotten much of the proper etiquette for interacting with a senior officer face-to-face. In combat, Mordecai cracks, and he cracks hard. It's been years since he had to properly make up part of a firing line, and even that was at simple training targets. He cowers, blubbers, panics, and prays more than he shoots his gun, and it'll be a miracle if the commissar or an officer doesn't use him for bolt pistol practice. His one saving grace is that he can shrug off the sounds of explosions, gunfire, cannons, and screaming, having grown accustomed to spending hours directly next to one of the loudest noises known to the Guard. Greatest Ambition: To survive long enough to be officially discharged and able to retire with a home, a family, and perhaps even a nice pension for service. Greatest Hatred: Quiet. When there's too much...nothing in the air. No sounds, just the tension hanging, waiting to be broken...it drives him mad. Skills: Although he had served as the tank's commander, during his time with his Basilisk, every member of the crew took equal turns driving the tank, sighting and firing the main gun, and loading it, so he has a quality level of experience in driving tracked vehicles, as well as in operating indirect fire weapons. He can also make a decent optics spotter and vox-operator in a pinch, as both were tools commonly used by him and his crew. Lastly, while nowhere near the levels of even a minor ordained member of the Machine Cult, he's a decent handyman when it comes to keeping vehicles up and running in the field. History: Mordecai was born to a Cadian regiment on deployment, so while not raised on the homeworld, he received as close a facsimile as one could muster in the field, though it was far from par, given artillery regiments like the 232nd weren't known for the quality of their infantry. Having been one of only three children born to the regiment, his training in proper Cadian marching and firing formations was...mediocre, to say the least. Had training conditions been more ideal, he likely would have been drummed out into a cannon fodder conscript regiment within the first few months. But, he managed to make it to his teen years, and was thus appointed a Whiteshield member of the 232nd. With this distinguished title came the honor, nay, the privilege of lugging about artillery shells and spare parts, standing firewatch over the barracks for eight hours straight, and even spending a month as the aide-de-camp of the regimental Major. By the time he reached proper maturity to be regarded as an adult, someone somewhere must have thought him worth a damn, as they placed him in a new Basilisk as a crewman, alongside the other two former Whiteshields he had trained with as a youth. Being the best-performing of the three, which wasn't saying much, he was given the position of the crew's commander, and the rank of Corporal so that command would know he was at least slightly worth interacting with on the vox. Being the closest thing to classmates as one gets with Cadians, the three got on like a house on fire, quickly becoming steadfast comrades in the face of adversity both foreign and domestic. Although frowned upon by command, the three would commonly rotate between the driver, gunner, and loader positions of the tank, giving them all a familiarity with the vehicle few others had. Shortly after his 20th birthday, the 232nd were attached as artillery support to the Cadian 223rd Mechanized Infantry, and thrown into the last big push against Ork Warboss Thrakta. Mordecai had never really seen any of the Imperium's foes, xeno or otherwise, so his knowledge of Orks came solely from the information published in the Uplifting Primer. To Mordecai, the final victory consisted of chugging along in his tank, flinging heavy firepower at what he believed to be stumpy, pudgy blobs of green alien dimwits, and simply having a grand old time. If this is what war was, then Mordecai never wanted it to end. But in the end, it did. Eventually the attack orders dwindled, before stopping entirely. The crew were ordered to the regimental HQ for debriefing, and Mordecai was blindsided by being taken directly to the Major's office. Told to take a seat, Mordecai was even more taken aback at the Major seeming just as puzzled as he was. Apparently, he'd received orders to transfer a "Corporal Tharn" to a newly-formed composite infantry regiment. Despite this making no sense whatsoever, the Major had no ability to appeal or request clarification, the orders having come as part of a Departmento Munitorum debriefing pamphlet. With a pit in his stomach large enough to rival the Eye of Terror, Mordecai shipped out to report for initial formation and inspection. Upon arrival, he would learn exactly what had happened, and why even the Major had been so bewildered. The courier had been meant to deliver the package to the 223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry, with a Corporal Servan Tharn being the intended recipient of the transfer orders. Upon learning this, Mordecai requested an immediate transfer back to his old regiment, and that this Servan Tharn properly take his place. However, the 223rd had already been folded in their entirety into another regiment, and all official records stated that a "Corporal Servan Tharn" had already been transferred here instead. With no official way out, Mordecai swallowed his fear, and took his place with the other new arrivals to the composite regiment, just in time for the victory parade. Miscellaneous: He keeps a heavily-modified Screamer proximity alarm rigged to hum at a much lower volume to use as a white noise machine for when he sleeps in quiet places, having gotten used to sleeping alongside an idling engine during his field deployments in the basilisk.</s> <\|message\|>Arlena Di Fieroccu A song drifted through the dropship as it rattled through space and to a hot insertion. It was a mournful song, a song in High Gothic, but accented with the flavours of Mordia. "Era una notte che pioveva e che tirava un forte vento immaginatevi che grande tormento per un Mordino che stava a vegliàr." She looked about, knowing that there were none of her planetmen around her to sing with her. It was the sort of song that would normally be sung on the march, but she had turned it into almost a dirge, reluctantly admitting that her death was hurtling towards her faster than she could comprehend. "A mezzanotte arriva il cambio accompagnato dal capoposto ohi, sentinella, ritorna al tuo posto sotto la tenda a riposàr." The next verse came and went, but before she had finished the song she would note what the Krieger had said, and how she would need to be a Captain, not a Mordian. "Zhatka, I will not have you be throwing the Emperor's currency away as if it held no value. If you so much as think about hurling yourself headfirst into the first heretic or xenos we see, I will personally drag you back to your barracks in disgrace." She had rapidly learned that there was very little threatening a krieger with physical violence accomplished but this? This generally seemed to work quite well. "Right then ladies and gentlemen. Our duty as a command squad is to ensure that the soldiers under our banner are working in an orderly and efficient fashion. I will have no dereliction of duty, no recklessness, no cowardice and absolutely no splitting away from the squad, is that understood?"</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was fairly uncomfortable, by all accounts. Travailing the black skies between worlds was always unsettling, especially when passing into, well, he didn't have a good word for it in the Father's tongue. But it shortened passage between places, he'd heard others refer to it as the Warp, and he supposed that was as close of a word as he would get. Still, the worst of it was always setting off into, and back from, the black skies. Violent, shuddering, and thoroughly alien to anything that the feral worlder could have ever imagined before departing his home. It was something he never got used to, and he had to do his level best to keep a straight, even face as they descended into the oncoming fire. What was interesting to the man was how others had handled this so far. The masked one, a Krieg Man as he was told, muttered grim prayers to the, he assumed, Father as a response to the one having said something about here we go again. The one that spoke in such a thick manner that he went completely understood also replied something in return, lost between the sounds of flak and anti sky fire, and the descending sky ship. Lastly was the Captain singing and then telling off the Krieg Man about not marching simply off to death. Blind death wishes didn't make sense to the Sergeant, but he didn't question it either. Different tribes had different beliefs, but this was their new tribe, so new traditions had to be respected. It seemed this tribe leader, the Captain, was not having any of that death seeking attitude. "Aye m'um, though sooner we're off this sky ship, the better." Rojack was worried about this whole 'command squad' thing that was being talked about. He was hoping that didn't mean sitting in some far speaker hut, staring at the fighting while the Captain barked orders into the far speakers. He suspected that the woman was not that sort of officer, given the explanation of their task, one couldn't really do that thing from a far speaker hut. Not effectively, at any rate, but there was only one way to find out. Find out and that meant sitting here, waiting for the sky ship to actually land so they could actually go about their job in the Father's name. So he mostly listened and waited, trying to quell the nerves over being stuck in a metal box loosely hurtling to the ground to disgorge its cargo.</s>	<\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" As far as travelling in one of the God-Emperor's weapon-coated hulking machines of death went, Mordecai had always considered ship travel one of the better prospects to be stuck with. It wasn't all great, of course, what with the constant sense of tension in the air whenever there was the slightest bit of Warp turbulence. But for the most part, it reminded him of being in a basilisk tank. The constant background noise was relaxing, kept him at ease, and gave him plenty of time to think. Shifted from the tank crew he'd been practically raised with to an infantry regiment full of people from all over. Well, at least he'd been graced with the pleasure of assignment to a Command Squad, even if it was under the command of a Captain who may as well have been a human icepop for how cold she was and how far that stick up her ass went. The others were a bit of a mixed bag, some good some bad. Mordecai figured the voidsman, Telaci, was a well enough man, if a bit indecipherable at times. The feralworlder Sergeant Rojack was in a similar boat, a fine man for the most part, but his accent and words were a bit thick for Mordecai's taste. And then there's the Krieger. Mordecai honestly wasn't even sure if he was human. If the Captain was a stick in the mud, this man WAS the mud. At least the Captain understood human emotion and conversation. As for their duties, being a junior NCO in a Command Squad definitely wasn't the worst place to end up in an infantry regiment. He didn't have any idea what the Captain would have him doing, but at least it was vaguely similar to when he led his tank. The Captain was talking now. Between the perpetual ringing in his ears, his own thoughts, and the noises of the ship, it was a bit of a struggle to hear completely. The gist of it was about the Command Squad's job to maintain discipline and control over the Company. "Understood. Keep the lads in line, make sure everything goes down as it should."</s>
<\|description\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" Age: 21 Gender: Male Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 85kg Former Regiment: 232nd Cadian Mechanized Artillery, listed on transfer papers as "223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry." Speciality: Basilisk Artillery Tank Operator, listed on transfer papers as "Infantry Weapons Specialist." Appearance: Time as a vehicle crewman far from the frontlines has left Mordecai a little lax in keeping up proper appearance as a guardsman. Beyond the physical standards expected of every single position no matter their role, he leaves much to be desired. His ruddy brown hair is often more disheveled than it should be, the outline of protective goggles is permanently formed around his face from countless hours of sun and residue, framing his striking violet eyes(a natural Cadian abnormality). His forearms are sharply more tanned and colored than the rest of his fair complexion and naturally paled color, detailing his penchant for rolling up his fatigue sleeves to combat the heat of the tank and its main cannon. Other than the occasional burn scar from freshly-ejected shells or hot machine parts from the tank, his body is free of cuts, bruises, scrapes and other unnatural blemishes. While not visibly noticeable, his time operating the vehicle carrying a massive Earthshaker cannon has left him both somewhat unphased by the loud sounds of war, as well as suffering from notable hearing loss, which can make casual conversation in quiet conditions more than a bit frustrating for both parties. Uniform: The standard Cadian fatigues, newly issued in the colors of the 87th Combined, paired with black combat boots, light vehicle crewman flak armor, a light flakweave field cap for head protection, knee pads, and thick operator gloves. A pair of protective goggles are generally kept wrapped around his head or headgear when not being worn over his eyes, and a personal micro-comm ear and mouth set dons the left side of his face. A secondary dress uniform is kept for parade and inspection, consisting of an olive drab single-breasted coat with a high collar and formal, tailored pants tucked into black jackboots. The coat features thin epaulets with a solid red stripe lining the edge, denoting the wearer as an artillery regiment member. Armament: As the vehicle commander of his original Basilisk crew, Mordecai was issued a standard Cadian M36 Kantrael lasgun, but with many of the redundant and non-load bearing aspects of the weapon removed to decrease the size and weight, while still maintaining a higher range and power than the standard lascarbine. However, this has since been replaced with a stock MG Kantrael "Short" pattern lasgun, which is a fair bit bulkier than he'd grown accustomed to. He also keeps the standard combat knife bayonet on hand, with it having commonly doubled as a screwdriver, hammer, or prybar during his time in the Basilisk. An autopistol with a single twenty round magazine is generally tucked into a small holster in his field uniform, serving as a quickly-reached sidearm in a dire situation. Personality/Demeanour: His time in the rear, and in a semi-isolated vehicle crew at that, has made Mordecai complacent, and it very much shows. Much more of a slacker and layabout than one would expect for someone raised Cadian, his casualness is bound to get him put at the wrong end of some disciplinary reports soon. He's very amicable, having enjoyed the closeness and camaraderie once shared with his former crewmen, but can be a bit annoying in his constant attempts to break up the quiet with chatter and small talk. He also seems to lack the proper mindset for how to behave around superiors, having forgotten much of the proper etiquette for interacting with a senior officer face-to-face. In combat, Mordecai cracks, and he cracks hard. It's been years since he had to properly make up part of a firing line, and even that was at simple training targets. He cowers, blubbers, panics, and prays more than he shoots his gun, and it'll be a miracle if the commissar or an officer doesn't use him for bolt pistol practice. His one saving grace is that he can shrug off the sounds of explosions, gunfire, cannons, and screaming, having grown accustomed to spending hours directly next to one of the loudest noises known to the Guard. Greatest Ambition: To survive long enough to be officially discharged and able to retire with a home, a family, and perhaps even a nice pension for service. Greatest Hatred: Quiet. When there's too much...nothing in the air. No sounds, just the tension hanging, waiting to be broken...it drives him mad. Skills: Although he had served as the tank's commander, during his time with his Basilisk, every member of the crew took equal turns driving the tank, sighting and firing the main gun, and loading it, so he has a quality level of experience in driving tracked vehicles, as well as in operating indirect fire weapons. He can also make a decent optics spotter and vox-operator in a pinch, as both were tools commonly used by him and his crew. Lastly, while nowhere near the levels of even a minor ordained member of the Machine Cult, he's a decent handyman when it comes to keeping vehicles up and running in the field. History: Mordecai was born to a Cadian regiment on deployment, so while not raised on the homeworld, he received as close a facsimile as one could muster in the field, though it was far from par, given artillery regiments like the 232nd weren't known for the quality of their infantry. Having been one of only three children born to the regiment, his training in proper Cadian marching and firing formations was...mediocre, to say the least. Had training conditions been more ideal, he likely would have been drummed out into a cannon fodder conscript regiment within the first few months. But, he managed to make it to his teen years, and was thus appointed a Whiteshield member of the 232nd. With this distinguished title came the honor, nay, the privilege of lugging about artillery shells and spare parts, standing firewatch over the barracks for eight hours straight, and even spending a month as the aide-de-camp of the regimental Major. By the time he reached proper maturity to be regarded as an adult, someone somewhere must have thought him worth a damn, as they placed him in a new Basilisk as a crewman, alongside the other two former Whiteshields he had trained with as a youth. Being the best-performing of the three, which wasn't saying much, he was given the position of the crew's commander, and the rank of Corporal so that command would know he was at least slightly worth interacting with on the vox. Being the closest thing to classmates as one gets with Cadians, the three got on like a house on fire, quickly becoming steadfast comrades in the face of adversity both foreign and domestic. Although frowned upon by command, the three would commonly rotate between the driver, gunner, and loader positions of the tank, giving them all a familiarity with the vehicle few others had. Shortly after his 20th birthday, the 232nd were attached as artillery support to the Cadian 223rd Mechanized Infantry, and thrown into the last big push against Ork Warboss Thrakta. Mordecai had never really seen any of the Imperium's foes, xeno or otherwise, so his knowledge of Orks came solely from the information published in the Uplifting Primer. To Mordecai, the final victory consisted of chugging along in his tank, flinging heavy firepower at what he believed to be stumpy, pudgy blobs of green alien dimwits, and simply having a grand old time. If this is what war was, then Mordecai never wanted it to end. But in the end, it did. Eventually the attack orders dwindled, before stopping entirely. The crew were ordered to the regimental HQ for debriefing, and Mordecai was blindsided by being taken directly to the Major's office. Told to take a seat, Mordecai was even more taken aback at the Major seeming just as puzzled as he was. Apparently, he'd received orders to transfer a "Corporal Tharn" to a newly-formed composite infantry regiment. Despite this making no sense whatsoever, the Major had no ability to appeal or request clarification, the orders having come as part of a Departmento Munitorum debriefing pamphlet. With a pit in his stomach large enough to rival the Eye of Terror, Mordecai shipped out to report for initial formation and inspection. Upon arrival, he would learn exactly what had happened, and why even the Major had been so bewildered. The courier had been meant to deliver the package to the 223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry, with a Corporal Servan Tharn being the intended recipient of the transfer orders. Upon learning this, Mordecai requested an immediate transfer back to his old regiment, and that this Servan Tharn properly take his place. However, the 223rd had already been folded in their entirety into another regiment, and all official records stated that a "Corporal Servan Tharn" had already been transferred here instead. With no official way out, Mordecai swallowed his fear, and took his place with the other new arrivals to the composite regiment, just in time for the victory parade. Miscellaneous: He keeps a heavily-modified Screamer proximity alarm rigged to hum at a much lower volume to use as a white noise machine for when he sleeps in quiet places, having gotten used to sleeping alongside an idling engine during his field deployments in the basilisk.</s> <\|message\|>Rojack 'Jackie' Cestarn Sergeant Rojack was only being given more and more confirmation that treading the skies was not a great idea, though he forced himself to keep his face level and focused. At least he hoped he was, feeling the incoming fire against their transport as they hurtled further downwards towards the surface. His eyes half closed as he offered up a prayer to the Sky Father, continuing to wait to be released from the harness and to be free to get down to blessed ground. As much as he didn't like the idea of throwing himself from the transport into a brief free fall to the ground, but it beat getting shot into pieces before the transport could ever simply touch down properly and let the cargo walk off the transport as if it were a stroll into a sky port. The count down to the harnesses being released was a relief, a brief moment of respite in the face of the impending warfare. Rising when the harness released, heading for the nearest available exit and, the moment he could, throwing himself out of the transport almost eagerly. Adrenaline pumping as he plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a tumble and a roll, he didn't immediately throw himself upright, keeping to a knee and not simply throwing himself upwards into the line of potential fire. The classical sounds of warfare, the screams of dying, the rage of weapons fire, battle cries and incoherent noises that one could not simply piece apart without risking their own well being. He snapped the Lasgun to his shoulder, familiar weight of his cut down shotgun and large sword on his hip a reminder he hadn't lost his kit on the landing. The first he spotted was the Lieutenant, as others were landing, he barked out, the loud, booming voice capable of overriding the sounds of warfare and weapons fire. "This way! We regroup over here!" The sergeant was quick to move, joining the Lieutenant in cover, hopefully having rallied the others who were landing and giving them a location to rally to, a direction to go instead of simply wallowing in a hole, getting shot at and waiting for an unlucky weapon to strike them down. There was issues with sitting put, even if it was in a solid spot, eventually someone would find something to hit the position with that would end up wasting the Father's soldiers. Still, per the Captain's orders, no splitting the squad, so he took cover and waited by the Lieutenant for the rest to rally so they could advance towards actual objectives and do the Sky Father's bidding.</s> <\|message\|>415633-983223-17-Zhatka He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine. The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to. Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed. Death outside. Just as he sought. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact. The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.</s>	<\|message\|>Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as "Corporal Tharn, Servan" The ship was taking fire. Corporal Tharn clung to his lasgun with one arm, the other hand white-knuckling the bench underneath him. The order came through. They were going to jump from the craft, a rolling bailout. It was, frankly, fething insane. Jumping from a moving air vehicle to the ground without so much as a strip of cloth to keep 'em safe? There was absolutely no way in the Warp they we- Green light, everyone stood up. By the God-Emperor, they were actually doing it. Jumping out of a damn gunship with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This was mad. Every singe person here was absolutely mad. Mordecai clutched his rifle close as they stepped towards the gate. Surely this was a joke. Surely they'd be told to sit back down and- And he was out. Tucked up in a rolling ball, one hand holding onto his flakweave cap, the other clutching his lasgun as close to his chest as possible. The rough jostling from the landing shook every bone in his body, and he was fairly certain he'd landed on a particularly sharp patch of dirt. Leaning up from laying on his back just enough to peer around him without exposing himself, he spotted the Krieger. Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, Mordecai took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he began to scrabble across the ground after the meltagunner, in a weird half-crawl half-walk, he pushed himself onward towards the rest of the command squad, scrabbling down into cover near them. He did his best to hold his rifle at the ready, though the amount of shaking coming from the Corporal was damn-near audible.</s>
<\|description\|>Felix Volpe Alias: Kitsune Gender: Male Age: 17 Birthday: 7th of November Written Appearance: Felix stands at 4'11, and has a lithe build. The main phrase people think when they see him is Fox, as his features are quite vulpine. This isn't helped by Felix deliberately growing his red hair so that it looks like he has fox ears, and that his ears are covered by the bangs. His eyes are amber coloured, though it's rare to see them as his eyes are normally slit in a vulpine way. In his day to day life, he wears a green long-sleeved shirt, jeans cut off just below the knees and a pair of sandals. In the mirror world, his outfit changes to something resembling a shinto priest. A white shitagi covered by an red kosode and hakama, held up by an orange obi, over which he wears a orange haori with a fox head on the back. Over his face forms a white fox mask. On his feet, he wears his regular sandals. He comes equipped with a staff and a pistol. Personality: Felix is a fox in human skin, at least according to his friend Raphael. Devilishly intelligent, when given the proper motivation, but honestly his best ability is his wit. He excels in driving people to anger, as it makes it easier for him to play tricks on. Despite that, he has a reckless streak when it comes to those he cares about, often moving before his brain can catch up. Likes: Card Games, Travelling, Pizza Dislikes: Needles, Boredom Arcana Representation: Magician Relationships: Raphael Phobos, his best friend and main confidant in the investigation. He is aiming to study medicine, and provides treatment when Felix gets in over his head. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: Odin Stone, Felix's former guardian and father figure. Backstory: Felix was orphaned at a young age, his mother dying in childbirth and his father dying in a plane crash as he returned from a business trip. Felix was raised by Odin Stone, a friend of his father's. They spent alot of Felix's youth travelling for Odin's work, whatever that was Felix never learned, before Odin was finally comfortable enough to retire. This travelling gave Felix access to several cultures, and gave him an appreciation for how big the world actually is. When they finally settled down, around 8 years ago, Felix encountered his future best friend Raphael. The two initially didn't get on, with Felix being too free and Raphael being too rigid, but the two bonded over their love of foreign cultures. Though the two decided on different paths for their studies, Raphael decided on medicine, while Felix decided on history. The idea of a travelling archaeologist appealed greatly to the youth, particularly after he watched the three Indiana Jones Movies. (Yes, there are only three, what are you talking about?) When the letter came, Felix was initially sceptical, but the news reports soon convinced him. When the illness hit, Felix and Raphael took time off school to try and help his guardian, to little avail. After his death, the usually carefree Felix was incredibly serious. "Raphael, we are going to stop this guy. For Odin." Tenko Description of persona: An ethereal ninetailed fox seemingly made of white-gold. It's eyes burn with golden flames. A tenko is a kitsune who has ascended into becoming a minor god in the shinto pantheon, and white kitsune are servants of Inari the goddess of Agriculture and the patron of swordsmiths and merchants. Abilities: * Agi * Psi * Masukukaja Strengths: Resistant to Psi Boosts Elemental Attacks of the Party Weaknesses: Weak Against Ice Inability to learn Physical/Gun Moves Other: Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Suigin sighed due to a lack of progress in finding any substantial evidence for this case. It's normal for a normal high school student for him to be an amateur in this field. Not finding any evidence and just sitting still is the normal thing to do. It's too bad that his normality was already disturbed though. He must find something somewhere else to put an end to this case. To protect his bastions of the sacred everyday, he will find the culprit. Even if he's a normal person, his craving won't allow for anything else. Still though... "Wait, hold on a second," he said to himself. He wonders if these cleaning supplies really haven't been used before. Just by eyesight alone he knows that they've been gathering dust, proving that they shouldn't have been used recently. There's a small chance that it could've been faked so he went and touched all the instruments himself. He contemplated the details of the case after finishing. "Just where am I going to find anything else?" He most likely won't be able to solve this on his own. 'No choice but to rely on other's information,' he thought to himself. He sighed as he realized this could've been solved easily if he teamed up with Kenji. He shook his head out of those thoughts again. He needs to focus on the right thing now. Death Husband first, Blood Eye second. There's a saying to save the most important for last, so he might as well do that. He needs to convince himself that this is something important if he's going to devote a sufficient amount of effort towards it. He noticed the older woman's scheme. He's actually quite thankful towards her. He should find a way to pay her back. He walked towards the other two students in the room that were investigating. 'The broken glass, the finger, the missing person, the scream, the piano, the location, the lockers.' Pymeroce @World Traveler "What did you two find? It could be anything at all, just tell me. We should also probably share theories while we're at it." He's going to use them to further his understanding of the case.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s> <\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @Aurrorian@World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce Investigation: Clue finding; final phase AS the group had convened and had gotten to work investigating the room the new counselor/ accomplice went to buy them more time. As she went out of the room to stop the faculty members that came up to investigate the noise as well she was able to stall them for a few more moments. The leader of this group was the vice principle Miss Yoshioka Aki she seemed very straight laced and was a strict teacher at the school. Most students avoid her if at all possible thanks to the cold aura she seemed to have around her. She then said "hmph, the music teacher isn't here. She is still in the faculty office trying to sort out the music for the festival. Now please step aside I know for a fact that students don't practice for the band until the afternoon classes." she told her determined to lead her team of 3 faculty office members. The students were quickly starting to run out time. The best they could do is examine the room a bit more to find any evidence, collect any samples, or investigate the room before the vice principle would barge in and catch them doing something they shouldn't they could either jump out the window and make a run for it to avoid getting into trouble or take a chance to make one final walk through around the room to collect any evidence they could use for later. After all they could simply discuss this at a more appropriate time later ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Within the warehouse Shiba stayed with her through the trip and remained quiet. As they got to the warehouse however they saw it was brimming with the staff. Clearly they had a new shipment come in. Shiba then grabbed a piece of Mana's shirt and followed her like a child would when they got into a store. He stayed close not wanting to be near any of these other people. Clearly Shiba's isolationism is blindly apparent he was having a hard time handling it. They didn't need to take long to find the managers office nearby he was a very heavy set man with a large gut looking much like a grumpy Santa Claus he told someone to go and do something before he noticed them enter his office. He then said ""Why the hell are you children in my office. I swear i need to get new security for this place if children could simply walk in." Ais s he said that Shiba got behind Mana shaking in fear and wanting to avoid the fight. If Mana weren't here he would have made a run for it by now. clearly this Manager has no live for people that will waste his time and as they were young he clearly believed they were nobodies that sneaked their way in here</s>	<\|message\|>Felix Volpe "Ah crud, it's the fuzz! Every man for himself!" Felix darted towards the window, opening it before climbing out. It was fair to say Felix was not particularly in her good graces, especially after blowing up part of the chemistry lab with his and Raph's research. The woman was like a bloody battleaxe. It was only when he was midway out the window that he remembered an important fact. The music room was on the second floor. Too late to abandon his current act, he gripped the side of the window and used it to launch himself towards the drain pipe. He initially missed, leading to a slight bonking of his head, but soon came to his senses and properly grabbed on. Following that, he slid down the pipe to sweet, sweet freedom. As he walked away, he further examined the shard. Return the part to the whole... Cryptic voices in his head again. You know what, fuck it, he has more important things to worry about right now. It probably would be an idea to check it against a mirror, check it is actually part of one. Maybe should let the others tag along, especially that Devin guy. He's not a hardass for rules like Raph.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane As we looked up we all felt different things fear, excitement, rage, sadness, every emotion that could be described as we looked and saw the monster before us. Nobody else could have done what we did. We were the misfits, outcasts, and the forgotten. We were the worlds only hope, what does that tell you about humanity? We are getting ahead of ourselves however, this all started a year ago. It was a brand new semester and while nobody knew it yet they would soon come to know our name and respect it. While those with darkness in their hearts would learn to fear us. I am not writing this for it become some famous book or to be heard across the world. This is so we can say that we lived, we are human. So no matter what the public may think of us I will only tell the true side of the story. This is how it all began... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kage Private High School @World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce The new school year started out like any other, everyone had put on their summer uniforms as they got ready to go the only high school in the area. This place was known as Kage private high. It wasn't known for a lot but it did have a few things that the public refuses to see. The students however knew the truth. A teacher or maybe even another student nobody knows for sure, what they know however is that recently their has been a string of murders in the school. The only reason that it hasn't been swarmed by the police and media was because nobody could identify the crime scene. The only thing people saw was a patch of blood in some random spot with a finger. Said finger always held a ring that is why all the students stopped wearing rings in the hopes of not being targets. They called them "The Death Husband" cases, mainly since the only thing that could be confirmed was that it was always females and it was always on the ring finger. Their have been a few male fingers found but females were always a main target. These cases are soon what will bring this bunch of strangers together no doubt because they too were victims and the idea that others will suffer like them will no doubt spring them into solving this case... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Buraindo Precinct It was another day in the offices of the Buriando Precinct the local police department for the city. It was always a busy day another murder here another thief there. They were always short staffed and got minimal funding because they couldn't solve any of these mystery case. The victims were either never found or were done so well that the clues seemed non existent. The only one that seemed to be able to even get a few cases solves was ironically a child of one of their cops. The girl was arrogant but to the chief he didn't give a rats ass, if she solved cases that their detectives couldn't solve then she could be the queen of England for all he cared. The only reason he didn't hire her off the bat was because he knew she had more freedom when she wasn't tethered to the red tape they had to deal with so she only served in an unofficial capacity. A new case graced her through her father it was the case of the "fried piper" as it was called. This case was about a killer who was burning his victims alive. This was done through grease fire meant for french fries. Of course they analyzed the grease residue but it didn't match any known establishment legal or otherwise. They even tried to follow anyone buying the things necessary to make grease but that was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Clearly if she didn't know what to do then they would need to get help from their reclusive consultant</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe It was the start of a new year, and Felix was slightly apprehensive. Who wouldn't be, while attending a school that is the hunting ground of a serial killer. He'd probably be more terrified if he fit the killer's particular tastes. Though forced to wear the school uniform, he nevertheless refused to wear shoes, preferring his sandals, and swapped his shirt out with his regular green one. Next to him, Raphael walked alongside, similarly flaunting the dress code, but in his case he replaced the jacket with a labcoat. As they moved along, they fell into their regular conversation. "So, you are working part time at the local clinic?" the fox-themed youth asked, shuffling a deck of cards as they walked. "Yeah," his friend replied, "I figure it'll help out with getting a college scholarship... plus more experience is helpful when you get over your head again." Felix blushed slightly, almost dropping the cards from his friends admonishment. "Urgh... it's not entirely my fault..." he replied, "I can't help that trouble likes to follow me like an adorable puppy." "As loathe as I am to say this, mostly because that was a horrible metaphor, but kick the bloody puppy. Especially with all these serial killers hanging around." Finally gathering his cards, Felix took an affronted tone. "You're telling me to kick puppies? How could you, you horrible person." Those casually walking to school could see the hilarious sight of a teen in a lab coat trying to brain his vulpine friend with his bag, as they ran towards school. It was nice for them to have a bit of levity in this dark time.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu He wants to repeat those days forever. The start of something new wasn't always a refreshing beginning. The boy walking to school at the very moment couldn't acknowledge something fresh and new, for that would mean tossing aside the old. He wouldn't acknowledge it, nor could he even accept it. A soulful wound was left when his best friend departed ahead of himself. That's the only reason he was walking all by his lonesome to school. It hasn't been that long, but it wasn't really that recent either. He's lost in his own head about what he should do now. "What can I do?" he muttered to himself. It's obvious what he can do. He only needs to do two things. First, he needs to keep his everyday life whole. Second, he needs to catch the bastard who nearly destroyed it entirely. He has to atone. If he never cracked the inviolable law of his friendship, this probably would've never happened. There's no way to know that for sure, but that's all he can believe. He can only make up for it by doing what Kenji would've done. Destroy the criminal's life. Trap him and force him to self-destruct. He'll do it the way Kenji would've done, if he were to die in his place instead. While he was drowning in those poisonous thoughts, he heard two friends exchange a nice conversation that almost reminds him of the destructive relationship he had with his own friend. " Oh... I just need to reclaim my normal life." Even though he couldn't realize that it vanished alongside his only connection to the world. It's taking almost everything to not regress into a solipsistic stagnation to keep his internal balance in check. With what's left, he's going after the killer no matter what.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce As the new school year started everyone went and headed to their homeroom classes. The young victims of blood eye had the odd fortune to have the same class. Although they of course were placed in different parts of the room. It wasn't long before the first bell rang signaling the start of class. They were soon treated to the sight of their homeroom teacher coming in. She was a young lady Still in her prime as she was in her early 30s but damned if you could get her to say the exact number of years. She wore a business suit with a business skirt and a nice dark blue blouse that matched said skirt. She had long brown hair reaching to her shoulder blades with no ring on her finger though if this was because of the killer or because she simply wasn't married you can't be sure. She then introduced herself as Mujitsu Kazuta (first name Mujitsu) and she passed out the syllabus for what they would expect in the coming year. Once that was passed out she went on explaining their schedules and what they would be doing, as if it were any other school day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hermit and deaths abode As she traveled with her grease samples to find the second consultant to the police. She had to make a trip out to the sticks. She had to take a train to the suburbs near the edge of the city limits. When she got their it was another half our before she found herself at the local doctors office. The local doctor was a doctor that liked to bend the rules if it meant helping the patients but their was only a single patient she couldn't help and he lived upstairs. When she opened the door a blond girl with a white lab coat opened it. She looked to be in her early 20s still very young for being a doctor but then again she lived out where their was hardly a need for a local doctor. She sighed as she saw her come over and said "Another visit for Shiba I take it. You remember the rules your father told you?" she asked since she remembered her first visit to seeing this particular consultant. No loud noise, and don't force your way in unless its to hand him something. Once she was given the rules she walked upstairs with her and told Shiba that he had a business visitor. In moments she heard the sound of him moving to the door. He then slipped a piece of paper under the door Can I help you? the note said --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Charity Center As she soon made her way to the charity office she soon saw that everyone was already busy at work. That was mainly due to the fact that not many people would want to work for a charity organization. She was soon found by her boss as he told her "Hey Angela Thank god your here. Listen we are just swamped organizing an event at a local school but of course we are having trouble getting it set up. Can you head over and act as their temporary counselor? They have people that need someone to talk to" He said being careful not to say that she was going to help victims of missing person cases since that seemed to much for a rookie to handle. However, he had faith she could handle it unlike the rest of them she was still young enough to understand how the teenage mind works and what to say. Most of them were already hitting their 40s of course. He then gave her the address to the private high school she would be heading to before he left to help someone else get the supplies ready for said event.</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix --- As Raph had ended up in a different class, there was no one there to stop Felix's usual shenanigans. Activating a recording device he found in a second hand store, he tuned out the lesson to focus on more important things, at least in his opinion. While the blood eye case was the most important thing to figure out, there was literally nothing to go on. The letter had been a dead end, the only thing they could find was the sender was local, which was obvious. Testing it for poisons had come up with nothing. Inwardly, Felix shuddered, remembering the sessions where him and Raph tried to figure out what chemical concoction could cause the effects. On the upside his chemistry and biology had improved from the insane torture sessions Raphael calls research. Currently he was occupied with defeating Nemesis, his arch enemy in Card Gaming. So far he hadn't met her in person, as he never really cared for IRL competitions, but every time he went online they were always topping the rankings. Raph called him petty for spending obscene amounts of time on trying to beat someone who was obviously a shut-in NEET with too much time on their hands, but it was the principle of the matter. He was currently looking over the notes he took on her past matches, looking for stuff to exploit. Oh, there was also the Ring Killer... but that could wait until maths.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin was almost late for class at the sluggish pace he walked. His neutral face belied his true thoughts. He was considering skipping class to go hunt for the killer, but he believed he should at least go to school for one day. Just to remember why he's doing this. The class was mind-numbingly boring. It was just a female teacher introducing herself and explaining the schedule and what the class will consist of. While he started to yawn, his thoughts retreated to the back of his head. He focused on the memory of his dead friend and tried to pull out any clues he could think of from that scene. Bloody eye. Same thing as some other cases he heard about in this city. No possible way it could've been something external. It had to have been something internal for sure. Drugs? Poison? Kenji wasn't the type of person to use drugs. He smoked cigarettes, but he used nothing else. 'Could it have been external if someone ran an icepick through his eye all the way to his brain?' He attempted to guess at the cause, but all it led him to was the surety of it being internal damage. "Almost like a hemorrhage or a hyphema; however, those shouldn't be fatal," he muttered aloud from an enlightenment. His mind went back to the classroom when he received the syllabus, but he didn't let go of that train of thought. He doesn't know what kinds of poisons or drugs could induce a hemorrhage or hyphema. He doesn't even know if that's actually how the victims died, but that's all he has to go on. The cause could be something even more elementary than that. 'So, I have a guess on the cause, but I don't even have any idea on who the culprit could be. Going outside should serve as a nice matrix for balanced schemes.' He just needs to wait until the school day is over. The Death Husband cases? Not once did those banal crimes even enter the very peripheral of his mind. He ascertained his objective and then fully turned his thoughts towards the class. He let out a content sigh and began to enjoy the remaining sense of jubilation.</s>
<\|description\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Essentials Alias: Ophiuchus Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: 8/8 Personal Personality: A simple, boring teenager who unlike his peers, desires the everyday life. Walking to school, having meaningless conversations, and going home to play games and relax. Suigin would be boring had he not desired something like that to an almost insane degree. The everyday life is the craving that makes up his entire personality. He was a normal boy. Likes: * His best friend * The everyday * School Dislikes: * His best friend * Cooking * The abnormal Arcana Representation: Temperance Relationships (Romantically, family, allies, enemies, etc.): Classmates and friends Who did the blood eye terrorist kill? (who did he take that was so special to you?): Childhood friend Backstory (Brief or as long as you're/I'm wanting): Suigin grew up without parents, so he never had a normal family life. He lived in an orphanage with his best friend, Kenji, until they could move out just a year ago. They saved up money to buy an apartment room and they roomed together. The days up until now were the ordinary days that you could see any person in the world have. Waking up and going to school, talking about pointless things, working, and preparing for the next day. He desired that so much because it's something that he earned, which fed into his desire like a perpetual motion machine. He could never grow tired of it. Those days were wonderful, until Kenji decided he had enough of it. The greatest point of contention for the childhood friends were their desires. Suigin desired what was already known - the normal - and Kenji desired the unknown - the abnormal - which caused a huge fight to erupt between the two. Right on the top of the school roof, they beat each other bloody until they both had to be admitted to a hospital. Suigin's everyday was broken right then and there. It was 2 months later that they met up again. Suigin had a small hope that his normal life could finally come back together like a puzzle that was missing the most crucial piece, but even that wasn't given to him when he noticed his best friend bleeding from his eye. He watched his everyday shatter without even the slightest hope of returning. Ever since then, Suigin had to know why that had happened. At least as a way to atone for being the one to break their friendship. Persona Description of persona: The name of the persona is Ouroboros, a representation of the snake eating itself forever. Fitting for a person who desires to gain back their everyday life even at the sake of destroying himself. A balance that has already fallen apart halfway and desperately trying to keep it up just a little while longer. Abilities: * Dia * Frei Strengths: * Strong against Fire Weaknesses: * Weak against Ice Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s> <\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s> <\|message\|>Shiba Akabane Kage Private High School @Aurrorian@World Traveler@Not Fungus@Ryteb Pymeroce Investigation: Clue finding; final phase AS the group had convened and had gotten to work investigating the room the new counselor/ accomplice went to buy them more time. As she went out of the room to stop the faculty members that came up to investigate the noise as well she was able to stall them for a few more moments. The leader of this group was the vice principle Miss Yoshioka Aki she seemed very straight laced and was a strict teacher at the school. Most students avoid her if at all possible thanks to the cold aura she seemed to have around her. She then said "hmph, the music teacher isn't here. She is still in the faculty office trying to sort out the music for the festival. Now please step aside I know for a fact that students don't practice for the band until the afternoon classes." she told her determined to lead her team of 3 faculty office members. The students were quickly starting to run out time. The best they could do is examine the room a bit more to find any evidence, collect any samples, or investigate the room before the vice principle would barge in and catch them doing something they shouldn't they could either jump out the window and make a run for it to avoid getting into trouble or take a chance to make one final walk through around the room to collect any evidence they could use for later. After all they could simply discuss this at a more appropriate time later ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Within the warehouse Shiba stayed with her through the trip and remained quiet. As they got to the warehouse however they saw it was brimming with the staff. Clearly they had a new shipment come in. Shiba then grabbed a piece of Mana's shirt and followed her like a child would when they got into a store. He stayed close not wanting to be near any of these other people. Clearly Shiba's isolationism is blindly apparent he was having a hard time handling it. They didn't need to take long to find the managers office nearby he was a very heavy set man with a large gut looking much like a grumpy Santa Claus he told someone to go and do something before he noticed them enter his office. He then said ""Why the hell are you children in my office. I swear i need to get new security for this place if children could simply walk in." Ais s he said that Shiba got behind Mana shaking in fear and wanting to avoid the fight. If Mana weren't here he would have made a run for it by now. clearly this Manager has no live for people that will waste his time and as they were young he clearly believed they were nobodies that sneaked their way in here</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe --- "Ah crud, it's the fuzz! Every man for himself!" Felix darted towards the window, opening it before climbing out. It was fair to say Felix was not particularly in her good graces, especially after blowing up part of the chemistry lab with his and Raph's research. The woman was like a bloody battleaxe. It was only when he was midway out the window that he remembered an important fact. The music room was on the second floor. Too late to abandon his current act, he gripped the side of the window and used it to launch himself towards the drain pipe. He initially missed, leading to a slight bonking of his head, but soon came to his senses and properly grabbed on. Following that, he slid down the pipe to sweet, sweet freedom. As he walked away, he further examined the shard. Return the part to the whole... Cryptic voices in his head again. You know what, fuck it, he has more important things to worry about right now. It probably would be an idea to check it against a mirror, check it is actually part of one. Maybe should let the others tag along, especially that Devin guy. He's not a hardass for rules like Raph.</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day Judging from the air surrounding and forcefully emitted from the Vice Principal, she's an authority figure I wouldn't look to actively buddy with as a colleague, or blatantly disregard if I were a student again. I move aside for her to pass not wanting to push my luck, then make my way back to the counseling office. Inwardly, I cringe as the bathroom excuse I give to the other counselor piles up with my other lies given today, and halfheartedly toss a prayer of forgiveness on top of it all. The other counselor at least seems to take me in stride without a hint of incredulity, continuing where we last left off by showing me my temporary office space before letting me settle in. I set up for the brunt of my work expected to begin at lunchtime. Eventually I pass the time idly on my phone. When social media didn't suffice to engross me, I find myself tapping open the notepad app, then randomly away at keys while collecting my thoughts. Why didn't the music teacher go to check on their own classroom themselves? And why was it unlocked, if band practice doesn't happen until afternoon? If I don't get any immediate visitors at the beginning of the lunch period, maybe I'll sneak out again to find that music teacher. Just to ask a few questions. I nod to myself and start typing what would be my case notes. The only evidence I gleaned from spectating the student investigators was the broken glass, and I think I overheard the fox haired one mention a mirror. Beats me why a mirror would be connected to crime, though the shards could be sharp enough to cut something...or someone. I briefly search the web to update my knowledge on Death Husband, and add that context to my notes. But now I return to thinking about connections between the particular students I met. Why them, and in such a hurry, when the scene was easily accessible to any set of prying eyes? The Death Husband case has been open for so long, yet with respect to the other counselor, the school has acted lackadaisically in a drastic situation where equal measures should be taken. Did the police ask them to remain open so they could catch Death Husband in the same place? I think back to their last update on Blood Eye, with no new victims nor leads. Well if everyone's so relaxed about everything, except for those students and I, perhaps... I follow my whim searching for other cases related to Kage Private High. My heart leaps to my throat as the top search result shows the local news coverage of Blood Eye victims, related to some of the students. But I resist clicking the link, I'd avoided looking up who the Blood Eye had also left alive and hurting for their loved ones, not wanting to share the darkness and grief only I could be plunged into all this time. In other news this is turning into one of the longer days in my life.</s>	<\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin watched the redhead leap out the window. It was quite a ridiculous thing to do, granted it was only two stories high. It's doable, yet crazy thing to do at the same time. Kenji might've done the same thing. "No, actually he would've just strolled out the door like he owned the place." A twitching smile symbolizing both fondness and irritation. And just like that, he fell back into somber reminiscence. It's going to be quite the difficult habit for him to break. There's no telling what in of punishment is in store for him if he's found here. "Whatever, I don't even care anymore. I'll just take the punishment." Because that's what normal students do in a normal world. He clicked his tongue and prepared to go over the room one more time just to see if he missed anything critical. The whole room must be searched. While he was giving a thorough second go through the room, he stored the scene in his memory like a photograph. Just enough stuff to ge a general layout in his mind. He then walked out of the room once he was satisfied. Right into the path of someone who would definitely administer punishment. He sighed and prepared for a lashing. 'It had to be her of all people, didn't it.'</s>
<\|description\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana Essentials Alias: Nemesis Gender: Female Age: 18 Birthday: March 14 Written Appearance: Mana stands at 5'6, being taller than most. She has dark brown eyes and grey hair that reaches to her back, but it's almost always messily tied in a ponytail. She also has a slender build, with long thin fingers. Lately, she has been getting bags under her eyes. When she's not at school she usually wears something formal, like a button-up shirt with a black tie, alongside a brown coat and black pants. Personal Personality: Outwardly she's someone who's calm, understanding and a bit aloof. In reality, she tends to think most people are below her and aren't worth giving the time of the day unless they're useful to her at some level. This arrogance also comes up with a tint of vanity, she likes being praised and being relied upon. On the flip side, she's a very sore loser, keeping grudges for a very long time and creating them out of the pettiest reasons. Of course, she tries to keep those negative attitudes from showing up to those she's close to, though her facade does tend to slip up when she's stressed. Likes: Card games Puzzles Dislikes: Nosy people Arcana Representation: Justice Relationships: Kindaichi Kinzo: Her stepfather and local detective. Since he tends to let her look at whatever investigation he's on every once in a while he's Mana's main source of info on the Blood Eye terrorist. Though she isn't planning on sharing any clues she finds. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: None, or rather she's looking for the killer out of revenge for targeting her. Backstory: Mana was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had a good family, was an exemplary student with good grades and she got along well with most of her classmates, but she didn't care about all that. Mana was bored out of her mind, everything was too simple for her liking. Fortunately for her, her stepfather was someone who couldn't stop talking about his line of work, which to Mana was like someone putting a bunch of puzzle pieces in front of her and asking her to solve them. It started with some innocuous comments here and there, like "Have you tried looking into X?" or "Maybe you missed something in the scene of the crime", nothing too detailed, given that Mana didn't have the full picture to add anything more than basic inferences. Still, her stepfather must have noticed her interest since he made her his assistant. In the end, she had reached her last year in high school and while she had helped solve some cases, most if not all of them were pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She wanted something that would put her in the spotlight and the recent blood eye terrorist cases were going to be her golden goose. Though much like she expected she wasn't able to find anything that could give her a heads up over the police:s investigation. If it weren't from the calling card preceding the murders one could think this was just some strange disease. It frustrated her to no end that no matter where she looked or who she asked no one seemed to have a single clue on how the killer made the victims slowly bleed out to death. Many nights after she had begun her little investigation she would find a small card in her bed, which was unmistakenly the killer's calling card. Mana crumpled the card and bit her lip in rage, to the point of bleeding. The culprit had no only taken notice on her but flew right by her nose long enough to find her house and taunted her without a single soul ever noticing. It was humiliating, and she wasn't going to let that phantom get away with it, even if it was the last thing she ever did. There was no time to worry about stopping the illness, as everyone who tried to either by seeking medical help or even trying to escape from the country ended up perishing anyway, and she'd rather use her time to double her efforts to find and take revenge on the culprit. Raguel Description of persona: Raguel means "Friend of God" and is considered to be the angel of justice, fairness, and vengeance. With its main purpose being taking vengeance to those who have broken God's law. Abilities: ♦ Zio ♦ Lunge ♦ Tarunda Strengths: ♦ Resists Holy ♦ Debuffs enemies Weaknesses: ♦ Weak to Psi ♦ Weak to Curse Other Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix --- It says something about Felix's sanity that he immediately ran towards the scream. He didn't really care for detentions, though Raph would probably be pissed with him for that. Judging from the slightly deadened sound of the scream, it had to be in one of the rooms with soundproofing. This was something the boy knew from the Old Man's sexual escapades, sound proofing doesn't stop noise. He internally shuddered at the memory, but put it aside as he headed for the music room. The first one on the scene, he immediately looked around. What was the murderer's obsession with rings? Is the killer an overly dramatic fan of Lord of the Rings? No, if that was the case they'd be hoarding the rings... As he was pacing with his thoughts, he noticed a glimmer of light underneath the piano. What the, why would glass be underneath the piano? From the spread, it seems like it came from the window... which is still in one piece. "So the point of entry was a window, just not the one in this room... or would that be that version of this room?" Felix muttered as he used his shirt to pick up one of the shards and compared it to the window. "But that would imply..."</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day I simply nod at this unprecedented turn of events. Me, finally trusted by Boss to act by myself for work, not only that but to do some counseling? I essentially shadowed my seniors in the previous cases we worked, looking over my shoulder while they did the talking. Now this is no chance to mess up, Angela. Recalling my college courses, I think about how textbook my approach should be, balanced against what my peers had indirectly taught me in the field. Most of the clients we interacted with were adult heads of household however, their children or wards usually away from home like at school. It hits me then that Boss may have assigned me to counsel at a school, because I would be closer in age to the students compared to my coworkers. I clap my face in reassurance as my ride share pulls up, and minutes later I arrive at Kage Private High. I sign in at the administrative office, then a secretary leads me towards the counseling office, where I introduce myself to the sole counselor of the entire school. A bit curious that a private school has little budget for no more than one, and the dark circles under their eyes shows the load they have to carry. But one statement by them unexpectedly clarifies the true pressure they face, "I appreciate the help from you and your organization, Angela. It's...the recent case surrounding this school, the Death Husband. Students just keep coming to me with their fears, and for comfort if their classmate went missing." My heart skips a beat. Of course, I remember now hearing the school name before on the news. My mind instantly flashes to Raven, and I wouldn't be surprised if my own eyes darkened in intensity. But, this isn't Blood Eye, and I can't let my past trauma cloud my exchanges with the inevitable students that arrive for counseling later today. A scream in the distance probably makes everyone in the room break into a sweat. The secretary tells me to wait inside while they confirm the situation, so I do until a flurry of movement later outside, I notice the secretary in the main office across the hall urgently dialing the phone. I use the bathroom excuse to leave the counselor, and after meandering close enough to confirm the call was indeed for emergency services, I hurry off in a vague direction I think the scream came from. I don't ascend to another floor of the large school building in case I get called back, but the closer to the location I get the more I could tell it was somewhere above. I stand unsure of my agency in the hallway, classrooms to either side and definitely opposite the direction of the bathroom, when the bell rings. Immediately, someone with two distinctly spiky hair growths bursts out of a classroom door and sprints for the staircase, followed by three other students trailing them in succession. Considering it broke the usual pattern of the rest of the students filing out of their classes in a steady stream towards their next class, I could draw the nearest conclusion as to what they shared in common with me at the moment. "Raven would've been brave confronting a murderer like that. At least, I think she was with Blood Eye..." I mutter under my breath before moving again with the crowd. The tide directs me towards the stairs so I go with it, catching a glimpse of one of the four earlier students before finally following them under my own volition. I end at an unusually quieter spot on the second floor sparse with students, except for the four grouping around a door down the hall. I slowly approach them and peer through the doorway into what appears to be a music room. "Um, excuse me, are students supposed to be up here?" I ask, before realizing my dumb question.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal 'Already..." Devin thought as not one, but two fellow classmates nagged him about using his phone. With attitude he shoved the small device in his backpack and simply crossed his arms and zoned out while the teacher started to go over what Devin already had read the moment it was handed to him. The monotony of syllabus day was interrupted by a piercing scream that seemed to go beyond echos in the hallway. Having almost fallen into a trance the noise shot him up straight and made the whole classroom go silent. Felix seemed to shoot up and leave while the teacher only pretended to stop him. It took a few seconds but the teacher got the class back in order and seemed to shoot a dagger look at Devin when he motioned to get up. Sitting back down in his desk he let the class drone back on and return to teaching students about what it means to be late or absent from class. After class ended and Devin was released into the hallway he cut left towards his next class, but then took the stairs instead of going to his second period which was on the first floor. While clearly a powerful scream it was also clear it came from above. He didn't need to push his way through the sea of other students as the face he had on told those that saw him that Devin was in a mood. As soon as he was at the second floor he saw that the music room door was cracked open. This was weird considering the music room didn't have classes in it till the afternoon when the part time music teacher was in school grounds. Making his way over and walking into the room he was met with the same thing the others were. Once inside Devin saw that Felix hadn't just ran off to play hooky. 'And yet my phone was such a disturbance' he thought with an eye roll. Walking into the room and seeing the yardstick next to the chalk board he grabbed it and started looking around the room. He took his phone out and started to snap some pictures of the obvious parts of the crime scene which included the finger as the center piece. The glass under the piano and the finger were the most obvious parts there was no liquid found around the glass so it wasn't likely a vase or cup plus no flowers or anything else for that matter seemed out of place. "There any glass in a piano?" Devin asked Felix not being too familiar with the instrument. While he was making his way around the lockers to see if there was anything else, specifically anything made of glass that made sense he heard an adult voice asking if students were supposed to be here. "It is a classroom." Devin said while looking over at the white haired woman. He didn't want to be interrupted and was thankful that Felix had been mostly quiet while they both walked the room mostly independent from each other. "I don't think unaccompanied adults without visitors passes are though." he said with a somewhat dismissive tone. He then returned to the room and, using the yard stick, started opening any lockers that were partly open already.</s>	<\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana slowly entered the room as she inspected the books that at this point could very well act as support beams for this place. The room might be in an even worse state than the last time she visited, much to her disdain, she wasn't sure if the fact that the hoard of books was ordered by subject made the whole thing better or worse. While taking a loot at the room Mana decided to give a quick look at her phone, maybe one of the guys at the station had found something useful for once. Instead, she saw her little rival had sent her a consolatory message. Mana bit her lip as she put her phone back in her pocket, how did he dare to even think of that as a win? She was five moves tops of getting another victory! Thankfully the sound of Shiba's text to speech program brought her back to reality. It was one of the already many weird things he did that she already had gotten accustomed too, at least this way was faster than writing things on paper, and she was somewhat sure that at this point the program's voice spoke faster than his natural voice. "Ocular fluid, huh?" Mana repeated the words as Shiba mentioned them. Of course, even his calling card had to have some eye motif into it, she smiled. The terrorist couldn't resist giving them a small clue, and she was going to latch on to that until she found him. Finally, with some direction in which to take the calling card investigation, Mana stood up "Well then, let's go look for the warehouse today" she said firmly, making it clear that she wasn't asking Shiba if he wanted to go. "We'll go looking at who has access to warehouses with corpses in them, and if there have been any strange incidents."</s>
<\|description\|>Kindaichi Mana Mana Essentials Alias: Nemesis Gender: Female Age: 18 Birthday: March 14 Written Appearance: Mana stands at 5'6, being taller than most. She has dark brown eyes and grey hair that reaches to her back, but it's almost always messily tied in a ponytail. She also has a slender build, with long thin fingers. Lately, she has been getting bags under her eyes. When she's not at school she usually wears something formal, like a button-up shirt with a black tie, alongside a brown coat and black pants. Personal Personality: Outwardly she's someone who's calm, understanding and a bit aloof. In reality, she tends to think most people are below her and aren't worth giving the time of the day unless they're useful to her at some level. This arrogance also comes up with a tint of vanity, she likes being praised and being relied upon. On the flip side, she's a very sore loser, keeping grudges for a very long time and creating them out of the pettiest reasons. Of course, she tries to keep those negative attitudes from showing up to those she's close to, though her facade does tend to slip up when she's stressed. Likes: Card games Puzzles Dislikes: Nosy people Arcana Representation: Justice Relationships: Kindaichi Kinzo: Her stepfather and local detective. Since he tends to let her look at whatever investigation he's on every once in a while he's Mana's main source of info on the Blood Eye terrorist. Though she isn't planning on sharing any clues she finds. Who did the blood eye terrorist kill?: None, or rather she's looking for the killer out of revenge for targeting her. Backstory: Mana was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had a good family, was an exemplary student with good grades and she got along well with most of her classmates, but she didn't care about all that. Mana was bored out of her mind, everything was too simple for her liking. Fortunately for her, her stepfather was someone who couldn't stop talking about his line of work, which to Mana was like someone putting a bunch of puzzle pieces in front of her and asking her to solve them. It started with some innocuous comments here and there, like "Have you tried looking into X?" or "Maybe you missed something in the scene of the crime", nothing too detailed, given that Mana didn't have the full picture to add anything more than basic inferences. Still, her stepfather must have noticed her interest since he made her his assistant. In the end, she had reached her last year in high school and while she had helped solve some cases, most if not all of them were pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She wanted something that would put her in the spotlight and the recent blood eye terrorist cases were going to be her golden goose. Though much like she expected she wasn't able to find anything that could give her a heads up over the police:s investigation. If it weren't from the calling card preceding the murders one could think this was just some strange disease. It frustrated her to no end that no matter where she looked or who she asked no one seemed to have a single clue on how the killer made the victims slowly bleed out to death. Many nights after she had begun her little investigation she would find a small card in her bed, which was unmistakenly the killer's calling card. Mana crumpled the card and bit her lip in rage, to the point of bleeding. The culprit had no only taken notice on her but flew right by her nose long enough to find her house and taunted her without a single soul ever noticing. It was humiliating, and she wasn't going to let that phantom get away with it, even if it was the last thing she ever did. There was no time to worry about stopping the illness, as everyone who tried to either by seeking medical help or even trying to escape from the country ended up perishing anyway, and she'd rather use her time to double her efforts to find and take revenge on the culprit. Raguel Description of persona: Raguel means "Friend of God" and is considered to be the angel of justice, fairness, and vengeance. With its main purpose being taking vengeance to those who have broken God's law. Abilities: ♦ Zio ♦ Lunge ♦ Tarunda Strengths: ♦ Resists Holy ♦ Debuffs enemies Weaknesses: ♦ Weak to Psi ♦ Weak to Curse Other Phantom Thieves</s> <\|message\|>Felix Volpe Felix Volpe --- A fragment of a mirror? Now we just need the smoke for this bloody magic act. Okay, lets think about this logically. The music room is on the second floor, and the only exit leads out to the hall. Considering a lack of blood from the dismembered hand of the victim, they somehow exited another way. Why are there mirror shards though... 'The victim screamed' What? Why would that... wait! In the other circumstances there had been no warning of the attempted killing, or possibly kidnapping seeing as there was no body. The victim saw the killer and reacted, meaning these shards were part of something the killer was using to enter and exit. But how could a mirror help someone move a body? 'Mirrors are magical' Well yes, the fact that a surface can perfectly reflect the surroundings was magical to earlier cultures. An obscure myth was that if you stood between two mirrors you'd end up trapped. And of course everyone knows that when you break a mirror it's bad luck, but he always put it down to the fact mirrors were quite expensive in a pre-industrial world. 'Breaking the mask reveals what lies beneath' Okay, maybe he should be taking those anti-psychotics. He just realised he was having a conversation with a voice inside his head. Slipping the mirror shard into his pocket, the voice began to quieten, but it seemed almost desperate. 'Remember... what you... are' Turning around to the person investigating the locker, he walked up to share what he had found so far. Traveler"Find anything about the victim? Considering my time getting here, the killer couldn't have gotten out the main door. I also think the victim managed to fight back against them, these shards probably came from something the killer was holding. Just confused why someone would walk around with a mirror of all things, especially when committing a murder."</s> <\|message\|>Angela Gong Present Day "Well, I do have a visitor pass..." I reply behind the blue haired boy, shifting the lanyard around my neck with said identification into better view. I pause to take in the scene of students investigating a crime scene: the spiky haired student looking increasingly like a fox examining a glass shard, the blue haired boy cautiously opening lockers with a yardstick, a third student more determinedly opening another set, and a girl standing beside me looking on nervously. I wonder if it's more than a coincidence of curiosity that these four specific students, and I, were drawn to this area due to the novelty of a criminal like the Death Husband, Blood Eye even. Where would the music teacher of this school be anyways, if not watching their own classroom? If I'm to have an amateur interest in detective work as these other students seem to have, there would lie my first suspicion. I hesitantly clear my throat to talk again, as the only adult in the room, "Actually, I'm a part time counselor asked to come help your school, in that office. A...secretary was showing me around, until we heard that scream. She ran back to the office to call police, while I was close enough to find my way here. So, since the police are probably on their way..." I hesitate again. There's a fine line to cross into becoming an authority figure for these students. Except I'm not a teacher or similar person they could possibly respect in the moment, especially with me fibbing. Part of me wants to, but that part seems to think of prodding or even scolding them like younger children in trouble. Another part sees myself no, someone more like Raven in them, with youthful energy not yet tapped by becoming a working adult. I take a breath, then finish my line. "...we should investigate this as efficiently as we can, before they arrive," I'm about to take another step into the music room, when I hear approaching footsteps, "Oh, somebody's already coming." As if by instinct, I turn around and march back down the hallway, hoping to meet whoever it is and stall for time. I figure it would make up for my earlier awkward arrival if I fibbed in favor of the students rather than against. It's going to land me in some trouble with the school staff for being up here in the first place anyways. "Hello, my name's Angela Gong, you can just call me Angela. I'm a part time counselor assigned here by the local Catholic charity, non profit and secular divided of course. More here for career guidance, a bit of financial aid, some basic mental health services including referrals, you know. I was just looking around the school to get to know the place, talk to some students and introduce myself." "Oh uh, I did just come from that end of the hallway and greeted students there, I think they were cleaning up after independent band or choir practice so they didn't need supervision. Which is funny actually, part of the reason I came up here was because I heard the music room was this way, and the school's counselor mentioned wanting to see the music teacher for something. I couldn't find them inside so uh, would you happen to know where the music teacher could be, maybe their office? I'd like to make a good first impression on my colleague, if you could help me."</s> <\|message\|>Suigin Ikotsu Suigin Ikotsu Suigin sighed due to a lack of progress in finding any substantial evidence for this case. It's normal for a normal high school student for him to be an amateur in this field. Not finding any evidence and just sitting still is the normal thing to do. It's too bad that his normality was already disturbed though. He must find something somewhere else to put an end to this case. To protect his bastions of the sacred everyday, he will find the culprit. Even if he's a normal person, his craving won't allow for anything else. Still though... "Wait, hold on a second," he said to himself. He wonders if these cleaning supplies really haven't been used before. Just by eyesight alone he knows that they've been gathering dust, proving that they shouldn't have been used recently. There's a small chance that it could've been faked so he went and touched all the instruments himself. He contemplated the details of the case after finishing. "Just where am I going to find anything else?" He most likely won't be able to solve this on his own. 'No choice but to rely on other's information,' he thought to himself. He sighed as he realized this could've been solved easily if he teamed up with Kenji. He shook his head out of those thoughts again. He needs to focus on the right thing now. Death Husband first, Blood Eye second. There's a saying to save the most important for last, so he might as well do that. He needs to convince himself that this is something important if he's going to devote a sufficient amount of effort towards it. He noticed the older woman's scheme. He's actually quite thankful towards her. He should find a way to pay her back. He walked towards the other two students in the room that were investigating. 'The broken glass, the finger, the missing person, the scream, the piano, the location, the lockers.' Pymeroce @World Traveler "What did you two find? It could be anything at all, just tell me. We should also probably share theories while we're at it." He's going to use them to further his understanding of the case.</s> <\|message\|>Devin D'artagnan Coal Most of the lockers were locked, but one of the far side ones was slightly open with a jacket poking out. As he walked over he heard Kyoko mention that they shouldn't be here. He was about to ignore her when the women who spoke earlier began to speak about how she was a counselor or something. "Well there you go Kyoko." He said without looking away from the lockers. "We are here under the excellent care of part timer." Devin then watched and actually turned his head when the part timer seemed to run off into the hallway. He realized they were pressed for time and ditched the ruler and pulled the locker fully open. After a quick search through the jacket and bag he found a small purse and opened it up. "Reko Koichi..." he muttered to himself and then took a picture of the ID. "Hey Feliz you know who Reko Koichi is?" Devin wasn't interested in small talk and knowing that taking the ID would make him look all the more a suspect he left it in the purse. "Her things are here and seem to be the only ones found in the locker. "Suigin you know her?" Devin then somewhat begrudgingly turned to Kyoko. "What about you?" He could hear the woman talking to someone in the hallway and figured there was still something they were forgetting, but couldn't find. "There wasn't anything out of sorts in her locker, but if she left for a normal reason she wouldn't forget her purse I am guessing..." The name was so warm it almost made Devin barf a little. Just setting your kid up for needing anti-depressents with that sunshine of a name. He thought to himself as he looked down at the photo of the picture ID. "The fact that the finger is here means the person isn't worried about leaving evidence. In fact they are more requiring of leaving specific evidence." At this point he was musing but he looked over at Suigin. This may be the most reciprocating of a team effort he had given in the past year in any capacity.</s>	<\|message\|>Kindaichi Mana This was one of the times where she liked Shiba's pushover attitude, it meant that she didn't have to put much effort into goading him into doing what she wanted. "Don't worry about the grease" she waved her hand as if it wasn't a big deal "We'll just go take a quick look" Truth to be told she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the piper case without at least taking one look at the warehouse. As far as she cared they had all the time in the world to gather clues for the fried piper, and given that the blood terrorist was a higher profile there wasn't anything wrong with prioritizing it. Dragging Shiba with her, she gave her goodbyes to Dr. Sakura and quickly ordered a cab. The trip just as expected was a silent one with Shiba being his usual self and Mana impatiently tapping her fingers. Once they arrived she took a quick look at her surroundings, the place was brimming with people, it seemed they had arrived on a busy time. She clicked her tongue, it meant she was going to wander through the sea of people for the owners of the lot. "Let's go look for whoever's in charge, you don't have to say anything, but remember that if they ask we're on behalf of the police"</s>
<\|description\|>Lizbeth Rowe Age: 20 Gender: Female Hometown: Ballonlea, Galar Appearance: Standing at 5'9", Lizbeth is a bit on the skinny side, but is still strong enough to do day to day things. Her hair is firey red in color and goes down to about chest length, and her skin is light tan due to her parents being so as well. She has green eyes, but she likes to wear red contact lenses because "she thinks they're cool", and while she's not much for makeup, she does like to put on her favorite green lipstick and cat-eye extensions. As she needs glasses, being near sighted, she chose to wear pink ones, as it is her favorite color. On her head she wears her black knit beret with a white circle and a white line through said circle, which has a little white pompom on top of it. She wears a top that is black with pink stripes here and there, with a pink Y that lies on its side. The Y appears to have a mouth with sharp teeth in the top part of it, and has a wide, white outline. Over her top she wears a black leather jacket she usually keeps open, complemented by her black studded leather skirt, and over said skirt is a belt in which she will keep her Pokéballs attached to. The leggings she wears are black with what appear to be pink splotches all over them, and her shoes and the small glove like thing she wears on her right hand are the same. On her back is the black and pink sport rucksack that she keeps all her things in. Personality: Shy and a little reserved, Lizbeth has always been a kind girl, ready to help her family out when they ask her to. But as such, she doesn't have much interactions with other people outside of whenever she may have needed to buy something, so it takes a little bit to get to know her. Despite that, she's determined to overcome her shyness in pursuit of her Kanto exploration. Profession: Lizbeth is willing to become a Trainer in order to pursue her exploration and photography goals. Talents: Lizbeth has a mean photography skill. Or so she'd like to think, anyway. With her Rotom phone being able to fly around, she simply has to tell it to take a picture once she sees a nice photography spot. Inventory: As part of her preparations, Lizbeth has in her rucksack: - 10 Dusk Balls, a gift from one pair of her grandparents (also came with a complementary Premier Ball). - 5 Potions, from her other pair of grandparents. - 2 of each status healing potion, another gift from her parents aside from the allowance they gave her, which is stored on a card linked to her bank account. - A wallet with said card in it. Typically worn in an inner pocket of her jacket along with her Rotom phone in another inner pocket. The wallet is also able to hold eight badges on the outside of it, four on one side, four on the other. Aside from the card, the wallet also holds her ID and the trainer cards she got of the Fairy and Dark Gym leaders of Galar, Bede and Marnie. - A pair of pajamas, a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a sleeping bag and small tent which are usually kept fastened underneath her rucksack. Gotta be ready for the nightfall. - Some clothes for changing into, though they don't vary too much from her usual outfit. - The bare minimum makeup she likes to use. Starter Pokemon: Impidimp, nicknamed Ace, or Menace depending on his behavior, because he's been known to be a menace from time to time, being the little prankster he is, but most of the time, he does actually like to help Lizbeth out, and in her own words, is real ace at it. Biography: Born as the first and only child of Jacob and Isabella, Lizbeth actually saw little of her parents due to their work. Jacob was a receptionist at the Wyndon league, which meant he was away from home a lot due to the amount of challengers arriving there, and Isabella was a flight attendant, travelling a lot as she served customers on the flights. Despite this, when they were at home, they always made sure to spend their time with Lizbeth well. Lizbeth typically spent time with either of her grandparents, who didn't actually dote on her too much, only just enough. They were understanding of Jacob and Isabella's work, and were happy enough to spend more time with their grandchild. As a result, Lizbeth grew up to be a girl who never asked for much. After all, all she wanted was to just spend time with her parents when they came home, and while she was always sad to see them off, she always welcomed them back home with a smile. Her grandparents often let her wander around Glimwood Tangle just outside of Ballonlea, and as such, she had a fondness for the many Fairy and Psychic type Pokémon around and about. The Pokémon there were her friends, and she would play with them from dawn till dusk, taking breaks occasionally to go back home to her grandparents for a snack. One day, a curious little Impidimp decided to follow her home, and as much as she was surprised by it, she immediately went to her grandparents to ask if she could keep it. The little one wasn't very happy with that, and ran away. This left Lizbeth in tears, but still the day after, she went out into the woods to play as usual. There was a small giggle that followed her here and there, which made her a bit nervous, but she knew that if it came to it, the wild Pokémon would help her. Jumping out of a nearby bush, it was the same Impidimp that had followed her home. It felt a bit bad about making her cry, and had been working up the courage to confront her again, hence why it hadn't come out earlier. She was happy to see it again, and they played together ever since. Spending the years together, Lizbeth had given the little Impidimp the nickname Ace, due to his mischievous behaviour, along with his ace helping around whenever Lizbeth needed work done, such as cleaning or being sent on an errand. They were practically inseparable. At some point, the time for her to take the Gym Challenge came around, but she actually had little interest in taking part in it. With her parents away during that time, her grandparents decided to let her choose not to take part in it, and so she continued growing up, watching others take part in the challenge, and watching the matches on the telly whenever she wasn't in the woods, though the wandering into them kept happening less often as she grew older. With her teenage life almost over, she actually asked her parents on a day when they were both home, and would be for another day or two, whether they would take her and Ace for a little trip to another city. She'd grown up in just Ballonlea, and while it was her home, she also was starting to feel like wanting to see more of the world. And seeing more of the Galar region, with her own eyes, was the start of it. Jacob and Isabella made it a habit to check out different cities when they were both home, together with Lizbeth and Ace, from the humble Stow-on-Side, to the majestic Hammerlocke, and even far off into Wedgehurst. To remember each and every one of those places, Lizbeth had managed to save up money from her chores when she was younger for a new Rotom phone, and loved taking pictures of every noteworthy sight in each city and town. This would eventually lead to her starting her 20's with finding online on her phone about a league challenge in the far off Kanto region. Having not taken part in her own region's challenge, she felt this would both be a good opportunity to experience something new, as well as seeing a new region on her own. Making plans with her parents, they booked a flight, which would have Isabella working on it, and packed down whatever she would need on her trip. Her parents gave her a bit of allowance to help her starting out in a new region, and thus she headed off for the Indigo League challenge. Notes/Other: Lizbeth's color is called Medium Violet Red, which is a weird sounding color to me, but it works as the color I need. And Ace's color is called Lime Green. As for favorite Pokémon game, Platinum has been my top one for a long time, but then Sword and Shield came out and tied with it.</s> <\|message\|>Hana Tatsuyama "Are we... all going the same way? Uhh... Hana? Right?" "If we are all here for the Indigo League, and our first challenge is north of Viridian, then I would say we are all going the same way, yes," Hana answered. "And yes, Ezra, my full name was interrupted. I am Hana Tatsuyama, of the Sengun region's Kingdom of Platinos." It was the exact same choice of words she had given earlier, but it was the best way to ensure everyone was on a level playing field in terms of introductions. As before, she sketched a short bow, though this was aimed at no-one in particular due to the larger group. Hana imagined if everyone sketched bows or conducted handshakes all at once, they would be standing outside the Laboratory for longer than some of them would like. "Sengun... really?" It was a region that was rarely discussed. Naturally the name caught his attention. "I got family out there! An aunt and uncle (well, great aunt and uncle) in Mystriver Isle!" He said, trying his hardest to keep his voice and tone regulated. "They own a dojo out there. Last we talked to them, they were planning on passing ownership down to their son." He nodded and crossed his arms. "You have family in Mystriver? How curious. I haven't been out that way myself, but that Kingdom is one of the most popular among travellers and folks who wish to move to a new region, as I recall." Hana paused a moment, thinking this over. Extended family likely meant that one of them had moved to Sengun at some point in their life and settled down there. Ownership of a Dojo - presumably the most well-known in the Kingdom's borders, if Ezra was aware of the details - likely meant that that part of his family line had inherited some Warrior traits, or would do so at some point in the family tree. She didn't give voice to any of this immediately, however, knowing that it would likely overwhelm her new acquaintance with information. That was just bad form. "It seems my day is full of surprises," she eventually noted aloud.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi As Gary explosively left the room, Fary felt a small pang of pity for the gym leader. She had never met him herself, but she had heard of his talents as a gym leader and understood slightly as to why he was so volatile to the shenanigans that had transpired. The elder Oak was clearly not mentally sound by any stretch of the imagination and this was obviously not the first time this kind of thing happened. However, Professor Oak wasn't fit to be left on his own and Gary seemed to be just as happy to keep him here on his own without any assistance or supervision. Fary took her Pokedex silently, turning it over in her hands; it reminded her of a cell phone with it's huge touch screen and camera on the back. Fary pointed the camera at Emily and snapped a picture after she finished setting it up, and fiddled with a few of the settings, such as turning up the brightness of the screen. #570 Zorua ♀ Tricky Fox Pokémon Height: 2'04" / 0.7 m Weight: 27.6 lbs / 12.5 kg Ability: Illusion - Comes out disguised as the Pokémon in the party's last spot. Moves: Scratch / Leer / Pursuit / Dark Pulse If a normally talkative child suddenly stops talking, it may have been replaced by Zorua. "So, you're a trouble maker Emily, even the Pokedex agrees." Fary smirked and laughed as Emily huffed, standing up a bit stiffer at her trainer's jab and flicked her tail again on the back of the head, this time jostling Fary's ponytail. Fary already knew a vast majority of the information the Pokedex gave her on Emily, but it was nice to have a record for it. "Zo zorua, zo zorua rua." Hey, I can't help what's in my nature." Emily sniffed at the screen that showed a picture of her and Fary give her a stiff pat on the head, an awkward feeling washing over the pair as Fary was still feeling weird about starting her Pokemon trainer journey so late in life from when she was supposed to leave. Emily just laid down on her trainer's shoulders, ignoring the stiffness for now. Fary elected to not join in the current conversation regarding them going as a group, she had kind of assumed that would be the case anyway. Instead, Fary elected to silently walk back outside, some old feelings creeping back into her head as the reality of her starting her journey starting to sink in, her Pokedex still in her hand. She slipped it into the back pocket of her shorts. Fary started to drift into her own thoughts, "I should have done this ages ago with Sarah in Unova... Emily isn't a bad Pokemon, she... she's just not my Sarah." She took a seat at a bench outside and removed her pack from her shoulders. Opening the dark leather pack, she pulled out her sketch pad and started back on a drawing she had been working on for a few days, silently working away as Emily watched.</s>	<\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Are they only available in Galar? Would probably be killer on import costs…" As Ezra asked her, Lizbeth thought about whether they actually were only available in Galar. She'd never really thought about it. But she could do one thing for him. "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." She wasn't sure if her Mum could bring one with her and send to her daughter, let alone when that would even be due to the flights she was on, but asking was possible. When they moved out, Ezra and one of the other women she hadn't introduced herself to, Hana seemed to be her name, talked about moving as a group. "Oh, that would be quite lovely. Ah, excuse my manners. My name is Lizbeth Rowe, as you no doubt heard from Gary. I come from Galar myself." It was starting to sound like most or all of them came from different regions than Kanto. Though she had so far only heard Hana and Fary mention their regions, she was curious whether Ezra and the other woman also came from somewhere else. Lizbeth noticed that Fary had withdrawn herself, and although they were still strangers for the most part, she felt it wouldn't be right to just leave her alone, so she went over to her. "Excuse me." she said before sitting down beside her. Her Rotom phone had just finished scanning the Pokémon from the other people in their little group, so it retreated back into Lizbeth's pocket. "I like your drawing. Looks quite well drawn." she said to Fary with a soft smile. Ace nodded as she said that to show his agreement with her.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe As Lizbeth walked towards the lab, she noticed a man walking alongside her, carrying a strange Pokémon by him. Well, perhaps strange wasn't the right word, but it was a Pokémon she herself had never seen. It was quite "adorable..." She clasped her mouth quickly, having realized she just said that out loud, though only in a kind of hushed voice. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Maybe she could just keep walking and he wouldn't turn towards her. Maybe he thought she was weird for just saying something like that randomly. Maybemaybemaybemaybemaybemaybemaybe... As those thoughts filled her head, she began to blush until her face was bright red under her tan skin. Ace was familiar with this behaviour from her, and so he urged her to continue walking by tugging at her jacket collar and pointing towards the lab. She nodded, her head a little clearer, but her face still a beat red, and walked faster than the man did. But her walking speed made her body rock up and down a bit more than usual, and so her wallet accidentally fell out of her pocket. Lisbeth gasped. "Oh no!" What the wallet contained wasn't much, and at least her card hadn't fallen out, but her two trainer cards were standing out of it now. She scrambled to pick it back up and put the two cards away again, and she didn't bring herself to look back at the man to see if he had noticed them.</s> <\|message\|>Hana Tatsuyama "Satomi! Don't go too far ahead!" Having found the main road to the Oak Research Lab, Hana and Satomi had begun the uphill trek to the front doors. Being both lighter in weight and not having to carry a backpack and suitcase, the little Pokémon had simply dashed ahead as if she were in a race with Hana. She paused about twenty feet ahead of her Trainer at regular intervals, then sped uphill again as Hana got closer. But eventually Satomi ran out of road to travel, and Hana caught up with her at the top of the hill. "You're a little rascal sometimes, you know that?" Hana crouched down and lightly scratched the underside of Satomi's helmet-shaped head with one fingernail. It was a ticklish spot that she'd discovered early on in caring for Satomi when she was still super young. Even Steel-type Pokémon could be ticklish, and Satomi wriggled away, half-squeaking and half-laughing as she did so. "At any rate, we're here. But I think we might need to wait for more Trainers to arrive for registration." It'll be easier to speak with the Professor as part of a group, was the part she left unsaid. There were some wooden benches outside the Lab, looking down at the rest of Pallet Town, and Hana took a seat, setting her suitcase and backpack down as she did so. From the former, she dug out a half-finished case of Pokémon food and set a cube of it down on the grass. Satomi instantly rushed over. But Hana raised a finger. "Not so fast. You can have half now, and half when we start on the road out of town. Okay?" Satomi raised one bladed arm and obligingly cut the cube down the middle, taking one piece for herself. As she returned the other half to the case and put the food away, Hana sat back on the bench and did her best to relax after the effort of the walk.</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly "Adorable…" Ezra was too encompassed in his phone to notice the murmurs of the girl glancing in his direction, but Brie certainly caught the claim. "Osha osh-osh, wott." I think she just called you cute, Eazy. Brie replied, tugging on the boy's hood to acquire his attention. The young Oshawott almost recoiled at the sight of the weird pink imp trying to get its trainer under control. "Huh? What's up, Brie?" As he looked up from his smart device, the girl from the airport went red in the face in an attempt to get away from him. He hadn't even realized she was so close until just now. "Is she-?" His personal trainer mode was taking over. Considering the two seemed to have arrived from the airport at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if she was feeling some extreme case of jet lag. "She could be overexerting herself. Not good for the body in the long run." Instinctively, Ezra slowed his gait as she sped up, to better assess the situation. "Oh no!" Then she dropped her wallet in her attempts to speed walk. On reflex, Ezra practically jumped at the chance to help, but she was in better control of the situation than he anticipated. "What's that accent? Is she from-?" As he thought, he caught a quick glance at the contents spilling out of her wallet. Looked like a pair of cards. One had a black-haired girl with a cool side cut that racked the boy's brain. "Swear I've seen that one somewhere before. Online, I think? Or on a magazine or something…" Quite quickly, the girl recovered from her spill and carried on. Ezra and Brie both raised curious eyebrows at the scene. "Oshawott?" She's a weird one, huh? Brie muttered. Seemed she had no problem traveling along the incline the path was quickly turning into. As Ezra looked on, He noticed they both were heading towards the Professor's lab. "Guess I'll ask about her condition when we reach the top of this hill." He continued up the paved road, sure to stay a couple of paces behind the girl. If she got too tired to go any further, he'd figure the least he could do was offer his help.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi "Oh no!" Fary heard a small commotion ahead of her and rushed forward to see what was going on. She saw a redhead knelt over, scrambling to pick up her wallet with a Pokemon she didn't recognize. She looked flustered, and Fary wanted to make sure she was ok, so she hurried to walk up to the girl. "Hey, are you ok? You seem a bit flustered and I wanted to see if you needed any help." Fary smiled softly, offering the woman a hand up after she picked up her wallet. Emily perked up on Fary's shoulders to investigate the strange pink thing, sniffing the air. "Zoooor ruru zorua? Ruuu zoruuua zoruuaaa?" What are you? Fary do you know what this is? Emily turned her head to the side yipping slightly. "Seems my Zorua Emily is interested in your Pokemon. I have to admit, I've never seen that Pokemon before so I'm a bit curious as well. My name is Fary Nitashi, I'm from Unova, but I currently live here in Kanto in Fuschia City. It's nice to meet you." Fary scrached Emily behand the ears as she yipped at the woman's Pokemon, wanting to great it.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Hey, are you ok? You seem a bit flustered and I wanted to see if you needed any help." Lizbeth was startled by the sudden appearance of a woman appearing next to her. Probably more startled than she should have been due to how she'd been in her own head just a moment ago. The woman offered her hand, and kind of without thinking, Lizbeth took it. She was super embarrassed that she had to be helped just due to a slip of the tongue, and was still a bit red in the face. She simply nodded her head about being okay before the Pokémon on the woman's shoulder started sniffing at Ace. "Impdimp! Imp!" Hey, hey! Nose where I can see it! He wasn't too fond of another Pokémon sniffing at him, but it reminded him of the Vulpix he'd seen before when trainers had gone through Glimwood Tangle. He knew it was just curious about him like they had been, but he wasn't gonna let it have its way, and climbed under Lizbeth's beret, peeking at the other Pokémon from under it. "Seems my Zorua Emily is interested in your Pokemon. I have to admit, I've never seen that Pokemon before so I'm a bit curious as well. My name is Fary Nitashi, I'm from Unova, but I currently live here in Kanto in Fuschia City. It's nice to meet you." Lizbeth was surprised at how much the woman mentioned about herself right away. She would never have been able to say all that on first contact with someone else. She let go of Fary's hand to pet the beret with Ace under it to calm him down. "N-nice to meet you too. I'm Lizbeth Rowe, a-and I'm from Galar." A bit nervous to speak to someone new, she had a small tendancy to stutter two or three words while getting used to them. "My P-Pokémon here is Ace, an Impidimp. Don't mind him h-hiding under there, he's kinda s-shy as well around new Pokémon." She pointed with her non-petting hand when mentioning the little goblin hiding under her beret. "I've n-never seen a Zorua b-before. She's...adorable..." The last word kinda trailed off as she said it since she realised she just said it again to another Pokémon, but it should have been still audible enough for Fary to pick up. As she started walking again towards the lab, she wanted to get to know this new stranger a little more. "I don't mean to p-presume, but are you taking the L-League challenge? I kind o-of am, but I'm mostly interested in...photography..." Her Rotom phone popped out of her pocket to show itself, placing itself in her hands and displayed her gallery of Kanto pictures from the little time she'd already spent there.</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Ezra looked on as the scene he thought ended continued to play out in front of him. The clumsy redhead was approached by another girl, one that was ahead of them both. Once he realized the road was more active than he thought, he figured he should've opened his eyes just a little more. The blue-haired girl seemed pretty eager to help the red-haired girl, and just couldn't help but air out her whole life's story in the process. Ezra had no problem hearing Fary Nitashi (the name she called herself), but the other girl was fairly soft-spoken in comparison. The exclamation the redhead made earlier was a noticeable difference next to what Ezra could only assume was her natural speaking voice. All the while, Fary's helpful incentive left the boy with a tinge of guilt in the process. She reminded him of his usual attitude, how he would've been if he was home or working at his fitness studio. He thought he was being courteous and respectful by keeping his distance. But, what if he wasn't? Maybe he should've acted first? What if she was really hurt? Would he have just stood by and watched? For a flash of a second, some of his darker thoughts broke to the front of his mind. He wondered if coming out to Kanto was a good idea. He stared into his phone as he tried shaking away the negativity. Brie, on the other hand, found herself overtaken with curiosity. As Ezra slowed down, the Oshawott sped up, jumping down from his duffel bag to get a closer look at the unique Pokémon on display. The pink goblin disappeared underneath the redhead's hat, but the little black beast on Fary's shoulder was out in full display. Brie got as close as she could to the two girls, practically jumping on Fary's heels as she waved down her Pokémon. "Osha osh-a! Oshawott!" Whoa, you're a Zorua! Haven't one of you guys in a long while! She exclaimed, surprised to see another Unova-native pokemon in this strange new land. Ezra perked up in a bit of a panic as he heard Brie's cries in the distance. Looked like she was trying to introduce herself. "Wuh-oh." He mumbled some before starting in a light trot to close the distance between them.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Lizbeth Rowe "Are they only available in Galar? Would probably be killer on import costs…" As Ezra asked her, Lizbeth thought about whether they actually were only available in Galar. She'd never really thought about it. But she could do one thing for him. "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." She wasn't sure if her Mum could bring one with her and send to her daughter, let alone when that would even be due to the flights she was on, but asking was possible. When they moved out, Ezra and one of the other women she hadn't introduced herself to, Hana seemed to be her name, talked about moving as a group. "Oh, that would be quite lovely. Ah, excuse my manners. My name is Lizbeth Rowe, as you no doubt heard from Gary. I come from Galar myself." It was starting to sound like most or all of them came from different regions than Kanto. Though she had so far only heard Hana and Fary mention their regions, she was curious whether Ezra and the other woman also came from somewhere else. Lizbeth noticed that Fary had withdrawn herself, and although they were still strangers for the most part, she felt it wouldn't be right to just leave her alone, so she went over to her. "Excuse me." she said before sitting down beside her. Her Rotom phone had just finished scanning the Pokémon from the other people in their little group, so it retreated back into Lizbeth's pocket. "I like your drawing. Looks quite well drawn." she said to Fary with a soft smile. Ace nodded as she said that to show his agreement with her.</s> <\|message\|>Karen Anne Rose, aka Lilith, Mistress of Lost Souls Kanto was proving to be something of a disappointment so far. Between the supposedly most learned man in the land proving that things as complex as his family member's names and basic etiquette were elusive in his advanced age, and the toughest gym leader proving to be as insecure as a 16-year-old birthday girl with a zit on her face, it was frankly comical. Still, Lilith got what she came for. She got a Pokedex, she got an official start on the Indigo League journey and she got proof that Unova is much better than this Arceus-forsaken land. There was still a master thesis to be completed, but still, the ego boost from the events so far outweighed a potential reveal of her dreaded birth name. While the other trainers who had assembled were chatting, Lilith turned to her partner. The little candle Pokemon was still calm as ever, smiling on her shoulder as if it didn't witness that utter shitshow inside the laboratory. "Hold still for a sec, Sia." "Litwick?" But why? #607: Litwick ♀ Candle Pokémon Height: 1'00" / 0.3 m Weight: 6.8 lbs / 3.1 kg Ability: Flame Body - If a Pokemon makes contact with Litwick, there is a chance that the attacker could end up with a burn. Moves: Astonish / Smog / Ember / Haze Level 5 At first glance, Litwick appears to be a helpful Pokemon illuminating pathways through the darkness. However, it is only leading travellers astray to be able to leech off their life force to fuel its flame. "Huh... Lilith looked back up at Sia. "Is that what you've been doing all this time? Just tricking me so you can suck the life force out? "Lit! Lit! Litwicklitlit..." No! No! I mean, it's a nice perk, but... "Look, I'm happy to keep you fed with all the life force I got. Just don't lie to me, OK? "Litwicklit!" I never would! "OK then..." "That certainly just happened to all of us. I suppose our next move is to travel north, then? Perhaps as a group?" Hana wanted to get out of town, and that sounded like a great idea to Lilith's ears. "The spirits seemed to have aligned us that way. We might as well." The Unovan looked around. There wasn't much to look around at, and it was pretty easy to spot a path that would lead out of this quaint little town. Lilith couldn't wait to leave it behind. "This way. You lot can keep yapping as we move. With a place as small as Pallet Town, it wasn't long before the path opened up to an grassy plain. There were sure to be Pokemon in the area. Pidgey Rattata Sentret Zigzagoon Poochyena Wingull (No Hoothoot, as it is day time.)</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly "If you want, I could ask my Mum about it when I call her." "Oh, uh...word?" There was a bit of jest to Ezra's quip about the phone, so Lizbeth's sincere reply kinda caught him off guard. Didn't stop his curiosity from getting the best of him, however. "Yeah, okay, sure!" He replied again, giving a grin before watching the girl approach Fary. Looked like the blue-haired girl found herself in a cloud of melancholy. But the sun was out, and the day was nice. Ezra himself knew the detriment of keeping his head in those dark, metaphorical clouds. He was almost a step behind Lizbeth, almost ready to provide some support alongside the punky trainer. But the thought of the weather sidetracked him some. The sun, indeed, was out. And being adorned in a sea of sweat clothes would prove to be a detriment, especially for the road ahead. Even now, he could feel the heat inside himself build, and soon he was gonna be drenched in perspiration and blinded by his big ol' shaggy mane. "Hop down for a sec, Brie." He muttered, helping the Oshawott to the ground before removing his duffel bag. He stood back up and quickly cast off the hot clothes, pulling the large hoodie up and over his head. Goofy as ever, he was briefly lost in the article as he struggled to get his head out. But once that was done, he placed it in his bag before pulling on his sweatpants. Tearaway pants, naturally, that made their removal all the more convenient. The warm outerwear made way for what lied underneath: a fitted compression tank, dark shorts, and grey leggings. "Ah, much better. Shoulda did that from the get-go." He stretched his arms and legs and chuckled and took on the cool wind that moved through the area. Brie was willing to assist her trainer, digging through a smaller pocket on the duffel and finding a frilly lilac hairband. "Oshaa oshaaaa." You always look like you're ready to run. She mentioned, reaching up to the boy. Noticing, Ezra reached down to the young otter. "Thanks, Brie-wait. This is one of Ezzie's hair ties. How'd this get in my stuff?" With a shrug, he used the band to keep his hair in a ponytail. "Uh, random question: Are any of us from Kanto? I mean, I'm from Alola. I'd be lying if I said I knew my way around..." He asked the air, getting his pack comfortable on his back. The road looked to be a no-brainer, as it looked like a natural path out of the small town. Couldn't say the same for anything beyond that. The goth girl was clearly ready to get the show on the road and was the most gung-ho on proceeding down the path. The Litwick she conversed with caught his attention. "You're from Unova, right? It's the only place I've seen Litwicks. I mean unless you got her through a trade..." Before he knew it, he found himself approaching her, just to ensure he was addressing her specifically. It was impolite to point, after all.</s>
<\|description\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly Age: 21 Gender: Male Hometown: Hau'oli City, Alola Appearance: Ezra stands at a lofty 6'2", among one of the tallest males in his family. At 185 lbs., most of the boy's body consists mostly of trained, toned and maintained muscle. His broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms, and even longer legs give him the silhouette of a competitive swimmer, while his natural olive-tan skin and shoulder-length mane of smooth black locks give off the disposition of an accomplished beach bum. If anything, you could assume he keeps up more with his body more than he does his hair, considering how disheveled it can get at times. If it's not kept in a ponytail, it gets puffy with humidity and will get all over the place. His goatee's a bit better, but his facial hair doesn't grow as drastically anyway, so he really doesn't make any attempt to keep up with it. His choice in clothing completes his look of a casual athlete. Don't expect anything less than light, sleeveless shirts and shorts in warmer climates, and hoodies and sweatsuits when it gets chilly. Personality: On the surface, Ezra might be one of the happiest people you meet. Always a pep in his step, and a tune on his mind. It's rare to see him without a smile, something his family members picked up on ever since he was a child. To the uninitiated, he could be considered 'loud' and 'hyperactive', and honestly, that would be a fair assessment. There's a good chance you might find him talking on his phone, most likely gossiping with a family member. Despite his cheery disposition, Ezra suppresses a myriad of emotions under the surface. Sensations of doubt, anxiety, self-loathing and regret plague the boy due to some complex and personal situations involving his family. He'll do what he can to never have those dark emotions show, and uses his positive affections to keep them at bay. Profession: Trainer of both pokemon and people. Ezra's natural empathy towards the important people in his life made it easy to be a fitness instructor and personal trainer for the studio in his hometown. He's always eager to help folk better themselves, and it shows in both his work and his pokemon battles. Talents: Given his background, Ezra has accrued many athletic talents. He's a great runner, a solid lifter, and surfs for fun. His cardio skills would make his energy look limitless if you didn't know him. Ask him to do a flip and he'll ask "a frontflip or a backflip?" before doing both anyway. Inventory: Honestly, Ezra didn't come to Kanto with the thought of long-term adventure in mind. He'd figure he would be spending more time hanging around his cousins' place and taking in the sights, and it shows with what he packed in his medium-sized duffel bag: - A week's worth of his favorite clothes (with double the amount of undergarments, socks, and compression tights, along with an extra pair of sneakers) - 7 pokeballs (one of which is already preoccupied by Brie) - Smartphone (and an athletic armband to keep it out of his hands and pockets during fitness activities) - Wireless earbuds (usually secured around his neck if not in his ears) - Water bottle w/ metal tumbler (for quick protein shakes) - Way too many protein snacks (jerky, trail mix, and snack bars, all edible for both people and pokemon) - Assorted accessories and toiletries (hair ties, sunglasses, etc.) - Wallet (contains ID, passport card, spending cash, debit card (that he was instructed to use only under emergency circumstances), two family photos (one full family photo, one of his mother hugging him on his first day of school), a membership card to his local gym) - Carries wallet in a fanny pack if he needs it out on a run Starter Pokemon: Brie, a young Oshawott from the Unova region. He and his sister were invited to spend a summer with an aunt's family in Castelia City, and there he received the egg from the family as a birthday gift. Since then, he and the sassy Oshawott have been thick as thieves. She does what she can to keep him focused on his goals, and keeps him from delving too deep into the darker folds of his thoughts. Biography: To say Ezra has a big family would be an understatement. Between his mother, Felicia and his father Ezekiel are three sets of twins, all five years apart. At the oldest stand Ezra and his twin sister Esmerelda (nicknamed Eazy and Ezzie by family, respectively), below them are twin brothers Eli and Tawny, and lastly are the identical girls Elena and Esther. Fel and Zeke were getting busy, sure, but that's just how it was within the Daly and Fichuo dynasties. Hell, they aren't even the only couple in the family with several sets of twins! Early generations of the families (both Alolan-born) were full of kids, and the majority of them ventured out into the world once they could. As a result, you could probably find at least one family with a Daly or Fichuo last name in most regions. Despite the distance, they all did what they could to keep in contact with each other. Family reunions happened more often than not, and the turn out was always massive. It didn't take much for Ezra to make fast friends with many of his cousins, and his parents usually made an effort to make sure both he and Esmerelda could leave Alola from time to time to visit them. That family-encouraged wanderlust was what got him his Oshawott, and also what drew him to the Kanto region. Some Kantoian cousins of his (Zapp and his two sisters, Franny and Kelly) invited out to spend some time with them. Zapp, in particular, mentioned the local league challenge and dared his cousin to try it out while he was in the region. Ezra, ever so intrigued by the league traditions of the Kanto, stuffed some stuff into a duffel bag and made his way out. Ezzie, who had her own trip to Johto planned, exchanged some kind words and playful banter with her brother before dropping him off at the airport and seeing him off. Notes/Other: Ezra's color is #00FFAE, Brie's is #E3CA19, Favorite pokemon game is HeartGold/SoulSilver. HeartGold specifically, due to my personal ties to the original Gold Version.</s> <\|message\|>Vivian Eli Aurora Vivian was, surprise surprise, not paying attention. The Pokedex was an interesting piece of tech to be sure, though apparently when a Pokemon is trying to get a chip bag off it's face, the camera can't recognize what kind of Pokemon it is. Vivian tucked the device into a pocket on her bag, steadying the egg hanging in it's cradle with one hand, and reaching out to try and catch the now panicked Pokemon waddling it's way through the group of trainers until it tripped over itself in front of a trainer and their fox-like Pokemon. "Bud-Budew.... Budew" I guess nobody noticed the plant with no arms needed help... yea? Vivian couldn't help but chuckle as she knelt down to suddenly rip the bag off Curry's head and stuff the trash in a pocket that rustled and crinkled, as if to say that this is an embarrassingly common occurrence. "If you could stop embarrassing me in front of all the cool, exotic trainers and their Pokemon? That would be greaaat." She quickly prevented rebuttal by tapping the shining black and red Pokeball that hung from her waist like a key-chain. Vivian looked up, seemingly just noticing how close she was to the other trainer. "O-oh, hey... sorry for bothering you I'm Vivian, the chubby plant down there is Curry." Her eyes lit up as she noticed the sleek black fur and red accents of the new Pokemon next to their trainer who seemed busy in a sketchbook. Her voice faltered, as if she was about to cry. "Who are they, and what business do they have being that cute?" Curry rolled their eyes as they waddled up, trying to stand up straight as if it would make them seem larger. Budew, bud bud."Never seen something like you before..... And yet, somehow, impossibly, the smell of oversalted fried chips somehow made it even more difficult for Curry to seem intimidating. Vivian continued as she reached into her bag, mumbling something about healthier treats as she geeked out. "I've never seen a Pokemon like yours, nobody ever had one at my Grandmother's daycare in Hoenn.... oh here we go!" A sudden change from the chips and sweets, Vivian pulled a slim package of cookies from the pocket on her bag. The package held tight against the contents, vacuum sealed to keep them fresh. Opening the package she smiled as she offered the trainer and their Pokemon, Curry now very agitated at the sight as they waited for the admittedly inevitable point that Vivian would hand them one. "Lava Cookies, from my hometown. My grandmother is convinced they have some kind of healing properties, but I think that's a bit of Old People logic, trying to get me to eat better. These are made by my grandmother so they might be a bit sweeter than a regular Lava Cookie but I swear they actually are good for you." PANIC Why? We lack situational awareness that's why. Again? Vivian went pale as she realized just how hard she tunnel visioned on the new Pokemon. She turned to the other trainer who had been there, a taller girl with red hair who was followed by what she could only describe as a gremlin. "Oh Arceus, I'm sorry about that.... I guess the introduction applies to you guys too, only fair right?" Vivian shrugged, this was not the first, and it would not be the last time that a cute Pokemon had prevented her from noticing her surroundings. IT seemed they weren't moving just yet, so Vivian sat down in front of the two, moving the blue speckled egg to rest in the space between her criss-crossed legs. She held the egg tight, some primal thought in the very back of her mind telling her to keep it close, and safe.</s> <\|message\|>Fary Nitashi Fary was snapped out of her focused daze by the presence of Lizbeth and let out a small yelp of shock due to being startled."Oh, umm thank you. It's one of my favorite places from back home, it's the Rondez-View Ferris Wheel in Nimbasa City. I used to ride it quite a bit when I was younger." Fary forced a smile, not wanting to bring down the mood of their excitement. "Uh, random question: Are any of us from Kanto? Fary cleared her throat and answered Ezra. "I may not be from Kanto, but I do know the region really well. I can help guide us around if that's what you're worried about. All we have to do is head north to route one and then to Viridian City." Not soon after, another trainer came her way. She didn't get a chance to catch her name before, so it was a bit nice to be able to meet her now. It didn't take Fary long to notice the egg she was carrying, and she became curious, but that could wait."I'm Fary, and this here is my zorua Emily. You have a cute Budew with you, Curry seems to be a bit of a handful. I seem to recall a chip bag over their head a bit ago." Fary laughed softly giving Emily a pat This whole time, Emily had fallen asleep next to Fary, but was jostled awake by all of the noise that had decided to join them. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted to the sigh of some green thing that smelled of fried oil and heart attacks. "Zo.. zoruaaaa? Zora, zorua. Zoru zorua, zor zorua zorzor zorua. Rua zoruu zorrua?" What is that smell? Oh, it's you. I'm Emily, a zorua from the Unova region. What are you? Emily seemed to perk up a bit when Fary put a hand on her, her pet must more relaxed this time around. "I think I've only had one lava cookie and it was the time I went with my mom to a Pokémon Contest in Verdanturf Town. This looks great, thank you Vivian." Fary broke off some for Emily. "Here ya go, Emily, enjoy." Emily gave the cookie a sniff and looked up at her unsure if she should eat it. Fary smiled softly, petting Emily again and took a bite of her part of the cookie. After thinking for a moment, Emily ate her portion of the cookie and found that she enjoyed it, and the look on Fary's face seemed to indicate she liked it as well. "Oh wow, these are good. I just had a prepackages lava cookie all those years ago. This is so much better."</s>	<\|message\|>Ezra Geraldo Daly While her trainer conversed with the other humans, Brie concocted different agendas. Much like Ezra, the young otter didn't handle hunger very well. But unlike Ezra, she posed no politeness when it came down to the subject. Either she had food, or someone would have to answer to her scalchop. So while her trainer distracted himself with the alluring qualities of the fairer sex, she sprung into action. She scaled the tall boy, reaching and rummaging through his duffel bag for treasure. Standing frim like a tall tree, Ezra barely seemed to notice. Shoveling through his things, Brie hit pay dirt: one of his packets of jerky laid untouched. She opted to just relax in his bag and enjoy her bounty, but instead something outside captured her attention. A sound of a package being opened, followed by a sweet scent of what could only be assumed to be baked goods. Jerky in tow, Brie sprung out of Ezra's bag to track the scent. What she found on approach was the blonde from earlier, offering up a pack of unique looking cookies. "Oshhaa!" Well, don't mind if I do! If the girl was offering, who was she to say no? Shoving past the green, armless, pudgy flower bulb, Brie helped herself to Vivian's cookies, picking out one of the confectionaries with a flipper while holding her jerky in another. "Osha oshaa wott!" Mmm, something sweet to go with my savory! With nary a motion of thanks or recognition, the pushy Oshawott felt comfortable plopping down right there amidst those trainers and their pokemon, so she could properly enjoy her meal.</s>
<\|description\|>Height \| Weight \| Age Race \| Birthsign MAJOR ATTRIBUTE \| minor attribute Birthplace \| Profile --- § Appearance (Written descriptions) § Motivations and Outlook ... § Background ... Capabilities --- § Skills (See character section in OOC) § Flaws ... § Spells ... § Tactics ... § Relations & Affiliations ... § Opinions (For group members; fill after IC introduction) § Crimes and Accomplishments Optional § Other ... Inventory --- \| \| \| \| § Cash & Valuables ... \| § Keys & Lockpicks ... \| \| § Tools & Crafting Materials ... \| § Clothing, Armor & Jewelry ... \| \| § Weapon & Ammo ... \| § Potion & Arcane Supplies ... \| \| § Books & Documents ... \| § Consumables & Ingredients ... \| \| § Bags & Containers ... \| § Other ... \| Name Race \| Age \| Birthsign Major attribute \| Expert skill(s) \| Role Application submitted on: IC date \| IC location Replace this line with an X if filled with the help of a scribe, otherwise, remove. --- Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response Response --- (Leave this section to be filled by GM) Contract: Assignment \| Term \| Pay Authenticated by: Lies told in questionnaire: (message this to GM if desired) Background not included in questionnaire: Additional appearance details: Additional personality analysis: Additional skills and flaws: Additional inventory items: From left to right: Carlisle Flyte, Bosmer, Knight of the Flame Sir Yusbeck, Orc, Order of the Raven champion Mistress Solaire, Breton, Synod professor Everard III, Breton, mercenary captain</s> <\|message\|>Height \| Weight \| Age Dibella's House of Common Pleasures 2100, Last Seed 21, 4E 205 --- The sun had set, the curfew had taken effect. Yet in the premiere brothel of Wayrest, the night has just begun. Citizens and occupying soldiers flocked to the "entertainment" district alike, and the latter were more than happy to let their orders slide. Not all who came to one particular brothel, commonly called the House of Commons, came for the bodily pleasures. It was a large three story building of many rooms; many of them housed former pirates trapped between rock and a hard place, while other were occupied by opportunists hoping to pilfer the legendary treasures of the Corsairs. One such individual was Ander. He had rented a small room three days ago, never requiring any services and never returning until dark. Tonight, he was carried in by a band of mercenaries. Ander was unconscious, but in stable condition. He was soaked liked the mercenaries, though thankfully, only in water. They had emerged from a manhole, guided by receipts in Ander's pocket and Alim's directions. Overlooking the bustling lobby, where red lights glazed across dark leather, were the premium guest rooms. These weren't the rooms for pirates and scavengers; only the richest (and often the anonymous) could afford them. Sounds of pleasure and pain seeped through the cracks of mostly sound-proof doors. One such room was taken by Relyssa an hour ago. Another was where a Breton man in an ash gray cloak had emerged. This man wore leather armor under his cloak, and partly concealed under his hood was a silver circlet and messy black hair. His relaxed shoulders showed his ease, yet a faint frown made it clear he was not happy. His right hand hovered around his waist, as if protecting an invisible object attached to his belt. The Breton man took out a pipe, lit it with a spark spell and watched the scene below. "S'toth trusts you were satisfied with his services?" Came a sultry purr from the same room. The Khajiit was a busy one tonight, for his barbed appendages were coveted by curious lords and ladies alike. "Most enjoyable." The Breton man nodded absentmindedly. Without turning to acknowledge the prostitute, he offered a handful of coins. "Here's your tips." As S'toth left, the Breton man focused on the newcomers below. He watched Gustav rent a premium room for himself, and cheaper options for his employees. He watched Xenia Richton, madam of the house, chide them for leaving a wet mess (on this already wet mess of an establishment), and redirecting Ander to the nearest clinic. He watched some soldiers cast suspicious glances at the mercenaries (but none of them did anything, since they weren't supposed to be there in the first place). He watched mercenaries from other companies, who were hired by the armies, size up their newest competitors. Finally, he watched the lonesome Nibenese sailor trailing after them. The Breton man smiled to himself. He made his way downstairs, brushing past the mercenaries and not acknowledging them. He weaved through the sweaty, drunk and aroused mass of people, almost unnoticed, until he was in front of the Nibenese lad. "You there, come." He gestured. "I have a job for you."</s> <\|message\|>Relyssa Deserine 21st Last Seed, A house, somewhere in Wayrest. --- A set of pliers sat askew amidst a pile of silver wire, coiled like a snake but bent and twisted unnaturally. A small vortex that was the circular frame for a diagram on parchment; tea stained, and tickled with cigar ash - smudged just so as to hide the design. The thick tracing that had been made with pencil was etched so confidently on the surface that it had also created an indentation, a river of charcoal creating the image of mastercrafted jewellery. Holding down the corners of the parchment were crystal tumblers, slabs of solid paint, and a cigar box. Trembling fingers reached out to feel the current, stroking each precise line as a jaw quivered, droplets of a rich liquer clung to the dry lower lip of a mouth held ajar. The red that stained the bloodshot corner of otherwise beautiful eyes were the warning lines of danger at the situation. A rasping breath heaved from the scrawny gentleman's chest and he swallowed back another gulp of the whisky. He was long past feeling the burn rush down his oesophagus and into his stomach. All that sat there was a bleak emptiness that rumbled and that's where the sting fell. "Did I…?" he wheezed, blinking down at the page as he tried to make sense of the words written before him, and the line-art of the Lover's Knot, half buried under his clutter and stained with his mess. "Did I do it? Did I steal it?" he whimpered, memories of holding the piece lingering only half there in the darkest corners of his mind, like a ghost. A spectre that elicited a sense of panic and a throbbing anxiety in his chest. His ribcage was too frail to hold such a thunderous heartbeat and he brought down the amber liquid again to drown it, to turn it slick and heavy and bring everything down to the floor. His legs obeyed the command, stop-starting in their movement so it appeared janky and broken. Like a newborn deer finding itself for the first time. His eyes too, were that of a deer as it stared headfirst into danger. Njall pinched the corner of his sketch, dragging it and the crystal tumbler, the paint, and the cigar box down with it. A smash, and thud, and a clatter. All intrusive sounds that were not so intrusive to a lost and drunken mind, just the perfect kind of ambiance. "I remember something… I remember something," he muttered, staring at it closely, his pupils dilating into tiny dots the closer he brought the parchment to his face -- stopping it only when it grazed the tip of his aquiline nose. "Diamonds, glass… Something, something." he struggled, desperately gulping down the last drops of his whisky. "I wasn't in Evermore, was I?" he breathed. Pale and unwashed, Njall could suddenly smell his own breath as it pushed back at him from the paper. A warm and intoxicating fume that it would be dangerous to bring close to a flame. After a moment or two more of scrutinous inspection, the drunken Nord felt that the best course of action was to carefully fold, and fold again the drawing - before shoving it roughly under the leg of his table, and when he staggered back to his feet to place the items in a heap in the centre, the wobbled the entire structure. "Gone now, gone to someplace…" he mused, scratching his oily hairline with a finger. He turned his face this way and that, careful and suspicious of the shadows that flickered against the walls of his humble lodgings. "Like watchful demons tonight you are," he spoke out to them, narrowing his eyes some. "Don't eat my applause," he cursed, wagging a finger at the moving darkness of a lamp that flickered. Njall sighed, his shoulders drooping. His lids were heavy as his stupor continued to worsen. The paper under the table leg was all but gone to him now, and instead his focus turned to a canvas propped against the wall. The abstract shape of a feminine figure in black, topped with red like a plumed crown stared back at the palid Nord, at least from where her eyes should have been painted. "I know, I know-misbehaving again," he slurred out, shrugging his shoulders. "Just that, well…" With yet another sigh, it was clear the man had given up on whatever needed to be said. Instead, retreating once more to the floor, only this time taking to spreading out on the floor beside his mysterious woman. He seemed more relaxed there, the stillness briefly bringing colour back to his complexion. On the ceiling, more strokes of red adorned the beams and careful tiling. An invasion of an artist's colour on an architect's best work. The tendrils and tentacles of red gave his mind something to focus on, and as his head began to spin around, and around, and around, he visualised them peeling away from the ceiling, spiraling down carefully to caress and blanket him. They cocooned him from whatever it was that had been bothering him only minutes ago. Njall fell asleep like that, as he so often did.</s>	<\|message\|>Height \| Weight \| Age 8:15pm, Last Seed 21 Dibella's House of Common Pleasures --- "It's not the type of job you expect here." Everard clarified to Finch. He gestured to the stage, where exotic dancers performed lewd routines. "Let's speak somewhere private, and trust me, it's not what you think it is." The two men entered the Everard's premium suite, and as expected, it had been cleaned up after his session with S'toth. "Close the door." Everard instructed. He sat on a leather sofa, and reaching to the table in front, he uncorked a bottle of wine and set down two glasses. "Take a seat when you're done." "Summerset Reserve, 176 vintage, Shimmerene export." Everard read off the wine label. He poured himself a glass first, and only when he's satisfied after two drags did he fill Finch's glass. "You don't even know what this is, don't you? Normal people like us can't even afford to look at it." "I'll jump straight to business." Everard stated plainly. "I heard people call you 'Finch', and you tend to get into places you shouldn't be in." "I'm Everard, leader of the Blackhounds, and depending on who you ask, the future king of Wayrest or an opportunistic bastard." The Breton man finished his glass. He took the wine bottle and began drinking directly from it. "People say a lot of stuff about me and most of them don't even believe their own words. So don't bother telling anyone about our meeting here; people will laugh you off at best, or worse, may kill you for spreading treasonous rumors." "Here's where you come in." Everard kicked his feet up on the table. "I had a very valuable sword, one made of gold. Some say it's daedric, but I all I care is that it's mine. However, my spymaster, Mathieu the Whisper, decided to steal it from me! That conniving scum! Fuck!" Everard threw his wine glass into the wall behind Finch. It shattered. "Excuse me; I get too attached to things." Everard straightened his jacket collar. He took from big gulp from the wine bottle, and settled back to his previous position as if nothing had happened. "But my loss is your gain, right? We're bloody opportunists, you and I. I have a lot of gold for you, if you can return my sword to me." "Now, here's what you need to do." Everard went to a book shelf and took out a map of Wayrest. "Mathieu prays every evening at the temple, here, just before they close down. It's in the southern occupation zone. They know me and won't let me through, but Mathieu, he's the religious type and on good terms with the priests, so they let him go." "You'll catch him in the temple around sunset. Take my sword back, and preferably killing Mathieu in the process." Everard stared at Finch for a second, then he laughed. "Don't even think about doing it alone. Mathieu is one of the best nightblades in High Rock, and the sword will further strengthen him. Remember that group of people ahead of you? They're mercenaries. Sub-contract them." "On more thing, wait here, and drink the rest if you want." Mathieu pushed the half-drank wine bottle to Finch, and went to a locked chest. He returned with a fabric covered shield. Pulling the cover off, the shield underneath was made of cold gray scales. "Real dragon hide, only wielded by the elites of Jehanna." Everard explained. "A frost dragon flew there from Skyrim, so they killed it and made equipment from its remains. The previous owner, invincible in combat, died from food poisoning. Now you, a nobody, gets to inherit it." "This is your down payment. Of course, you can sell it for a pretty sum on the black market. Alternately, you or one of your allies can use it against Mathieu. I recommend giving it to someome with actual upper body strength." "I want my sword back the morning after tomorrow." Everard declared. He took out his journal and ripped off several pages. "Don't bother asking questions. Everything you need to know is here, including a sketch of that spineless traitor Mathieu. I am much better with written words than spoken ones. Do burn it when you're done." "Now, get to work, and get out of my room." Everard pointed to the door.</s>
<\|description\|>Meeka Halsey "She holds her head high to detract from her heavy heart." 𝔽irst 𝕀mpressions Race: Greater Beastfolk Age: 20 Gender: Female Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Shuyi Zheng Shuyi absent-mindedly drove her donkey cart that was trailing at the end of a merchant caravan. It was a long journey to Chrana, so she was glad to have found a group to travel with. The merchants that led this group was insistent on a tight schedule, so there wasn't much chance for Shuyi to get to know anyone; only a few mercenaries tried to make conversation with her when they made camp, but Shuyi would always be exhausted to the point of passing out. As they drew closer to the Entei Baharan city, Shuyi began to feel anxious. This was the first time she's been this far from home – she hasn't even gone far from the imperial capital since birth. She wondered about what the guild is like, and what kinds of people she may meet there. At least it's better than adventuring alone , she thought as she was reminded of her failed attempt a few weeks prior. At this point, it was late afternoon, and the caravan had stopped at a clearing just inside the gates of Chrana. The journey was complete, and the caravan was disbanding. Shuyi found the merchant leader, paid the other half of the due, and wish each other good fortune. Despite seeming stern, and maybe even a bit… unscrupulous? Shuyi wouldn't mind doing business with the merchant again. With that thought, Shuyi started for the guildhall with her donkey cart. It was nearly sundown when Shuyi finally arrived in front of the guildhall. Normally it shouldn't have taken that long, but it was difficult for the cart to move through the crowd that did not seem deterred by the setting sun. Plus, Shuyi was so dazzled by the city, she was unable to make a beeline. This was a brand-new world to her. At first, she was shocked by the amount of people and things, but that slowly turned into intrigue. Many times, she stopped herself from taking a detour, by telling herself that she should get settled first, and that she will get plenty of chances to wander later. After leaving her cart in a safe place, Shuyi cautiously stepped into the guildhall. She almost immediately ran out since she wasn't prepared for the rowdiness. She expected order and discipline, and this was the opposite. This is what adventurers are like, I guess? She could only attempt to reassure herself as the anxiety in her grew stronger. Surveying the almost tavern-like place, she caught a glimpse of a well-dress, well-mannered man, who, surprisingly, didn't jut out like a sore thumb. That's gotta be someone in charge. I should go talk to him. Deciding that was the best course of action, Shuyi makes her way towards the man while attempting to skirt around clusters of people. Along the way, she caught words like "beastfolk", "spirit", "contract", "oni", and "violent". Shuyi has heard of other races but have never met any. She has seen spirits, though, as it was common for the upper-class to form contract with them. Maybe there will be people from other races that are also taking this job. The thought was short-lasted as she arrived at the counter where the man stood. Taking out the flyer, she hesitantly asked, "Um, hi, are you Nivaan?" After a little pause, she realized she hasn't introduced herself. "Excuse my manners, I am Shuyi Zheng. I was given this flyer during my travels and was told to come here to find Nivaan for the job." She tried not to wince at the word "travels". The truth was, less than two days after she left for the wilderness, she got attacked by beasts. She was saved by an adventurer, who, upon hearing her intentions, gave her the flyer and instructions. However, she wasn't about to tell a complete stranger something this embarrassing.</s> <\|message\|>Yuuris Ishii clicky to read the Pre-rp with @Satoshi Kyou Yuuris dusted off his pants, stareing down at the small cat in front of him. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. After all, He'd only come here due to a...dubious note, and now he was the contractor to a spirit who'd been on the verge of death. He wasn't exactly happy with this situation, but there had been no way he was going to walk away knowing he had the ability to save someone.... Save someone from the same fate as.... No. He wasn't going to think about that right now. He blamed these sudden thoughts on the details of this...contract, pulling up memories that he didn't want to think about. "It better only be a day." he muttered before lifting the shield up and stareing at it...wondering how he was going to carry it for the time being. After a moment, he decided to attach it to his bag, unshouldering it and buckling the shield's grips to it before placing the bag back over his shoulder. He stared down at his new companion and chewed his lip. Her current size was....impossible. She was just too small....there was no way she'd be able to keep up with his pace in this form. With a grumble, and without asking, he bent down and grasped the cat by the scruff, lifting her up and setting her on the shoulder opposite of the silk cape that wrapped around half of him. He wasn't going to take the chance of her little claws pulling a hole in the fabric, since he rather liked this particular cape. "Stay." he saidd sternly, keeping dull grey eyes on her for only a brief moment before looking elsewhere. After all, he still had some things to do here. He still needed to meet with the person who'd left that note. Interestingly enough, he didn't seem too bothered by the coldness that radiated off of her.... With that, he set off, only pausing briefly to make sure that the spirit on his shoulder wasn't going to fall off. His pace was brisk....he'd wasted too much time with this little event and now he was behind schedule. And it didn't take long for him to reach the guildhall....not when the crowd around them seemed to part for the young man. He was used to this; his lack of personality and cold blunt nature often gave people the feeling that something was wrong. He'd been told once that he gave off the feeling of someone who was dead but alive at the same time. But he couldn't remember by who. Finally, the guildhall was in sight, and he grunted, pushing the door open and entering the rowdy...almost arena. As usual, many people looked up to see who'd entered...and almost instantly there was a hush that briefly ran through the place. It didn't last long, as people quickly turned their attention away...but the conversations shifted.... "What's the Stonehearted Hunter doing here of all places?!" "Damn, I thought he'd already died....." "Don't look at him you idiot! You'll be cursed!" "He brings bad luck wherever he goes...guess it's time to leave...." Yuuris paid no mind to the whispers, to the hushed tones underneath the brawls and rowdy drunks. He made his way directly to the guild counter, standing just behind a young lady. He heard her introduce herself, and hand the man behind the desk the exact same flyer. He gave a grunt, leaning around her and placed his own flyer down on the counter, showing that he was here for the same thing. He really didn't seem like he was the friendly type.</s> <\|message\|>Wilben Felpip Oventamer This was far from Wilben's first time Chrana. It was a bustling city in a bustling region, thousands moving in and out of it every day. Wilben had visited more than a few times for many reasons: meeting investors, picking through local markets, and scouting the competition to name a few - though for that last part, of course none came close to his perfect vision, Le Paradis. Coincidentally, Le Paradis was the reason the Gnome was there now. When his kitchen staff brought a certain advertisement to his attention, he'd thought that it would be a good opportunity to push his business to true world stardom. After all, if it's owner was part of some famous crew touring the world, wouldn't that bring in a lot people hoping to get a glimpse of said crew? Of course, once these star chasers tasted the menu, well, that would be that. New regulars. The plan made perfect sense to him. The chef had arrived in the capital late last night and spent not even a single moment outside of his hotel room until the dawn came and he was refreshed and ready to meet with the city's guildmaster. After taking some time to double check his appearance (wouldn't want to look sloppy in a business meeting, however informal!), Wilben was off through the bazaar and towards the guildhall. Now, it was common knowledge that Gnomes were a small people. Wilben was no exception. At a normal pace it would probably take a Gnome twice the amount of time it would take a Human to get to the same place. Wilben did not walk at a normal pace. His ego was larger than life, and he took bold strides - which had him crashing into a lot of legs just trying to make it through the crowd. "Ugh, get out of the way!" he grumbled, physically shoving any poor soul that happened to be standing in his path. The bazaar was a sea of humans - and not-so-humans - yelping and looking down at their feet. It was a trail of bruised knees and stepped on toes right up to the guild's door, when someone snatched Wilben by the back of his jacket and lifted him into the air. "Yer bein' awful rude, don'cha think?" The man that grabbed him was nearly as wide as he was tall, with a scar or three on each of his muscular arms. The ruffian looked Wilben up and down, taking in all three feet of him, and snorted. The Gnome just crossed his arms. "It's obvious you ain't from around here. In Chrana we do things a certain--" "Stop," Wilben interrupted, raising a hand in front of the man's face who blinked in genuine surprise. "I have somewhere to be, so I will pay you five hundred gold right now to fuck off. Deal?" "What--" It was clear that Wilben's would-be captor was getting angry, so the chef wiggled out of his grip and mustered all the strength in his little body to deliver a kick right to the man's shin. As he howled in pain, Wilben went right through the guild's doors. Not his problem the guy didn't know a sweet deal when he heard it. Straightening his coat, Wilben ducked under an unruly but ultimately friendly couple of gents and halfway towards the counter he paused seeing a crowd there. "Great," he sighed. No one liked waiting in line. He hadn't had to wait in a line since - wait, who said he had to? He was Wilben Felpip Oventamer!"Ahem!" The rather loud clearing of his throat quietened the guildhall for just a few moments before it roared back to life again, people chatting, singing, fighting and swapping rumors. The guild's master raised a brow, a humorous smile tugging at his lips as he nodded his head toward the side to indicate a hallway. An invitation of sorts, Wilben supposed. That was good, clearly his reputation preceded him. Without further ado the Gnome turned and headed towards the meeting area, a room tucked away towards the back of the guild. He knew he'd found the right place when he'd found a room that wasn't totally empty nor filled to the brim with gung-ho adventurers. The room's sole occupant was a human man with shaggy dark hair. He couldn't say he'd every seen the man before, but after a while a lot of humans started to look the same. This one in particular sort of looked like a hobo. "Books and covers, Felpip," Wilben muttered to himself, looking away from the man and climbing into one of the chairs.</s> <\|message\|>Eshima "Eshi" Ashikaga [Post Redacted as part of Fixing Undesired Narrative, FUN for short]</s>	<\|message\|>Meeka Halsey Meeka was a bit surprised at the commotion coming from behind her. She would have never thought that someone would get sent flying across the room. Though, from what her ears picked up, it was quite deserved. Thinking about it, Meeka never really got into a fight with her antagonizers. There were plenty where she was from, and unless Morton was there to handle it there was little to dissuade them. Meeka usually tried to ignore nasty comments, aggressive people, or people she didn't like in particular. Sure she could make threats with her shooting skills, and shoot examples to show she could make good on those threats, but if it came to a physical struggle, she wouldn't be able to pull off what the half oni just did. In a pinch she was sure she could use her fangs and claws, and she would, but that would probably only serve to make them think of her as some rabid beast when its all said and done. Meeka refocused on her task at hand, following the man she presented the flyer to into a back room where it looked like some chairs were set out for them. Meeka scanned the room, seeing a human and a gnome already inside and waiting. She went to a chair that was the furthest from the two as not to seem like she was intruding in their space, and neatly took a seat, smoothing out her dress to reduce visible wrinkles in the fabric. She sat straight and proper with her hands resting in her lap as she waited. To pass the time in her mind, she started to think about the different places she would go. Maybe she would find other wolf beastfolk? That could be interesting. Maybe even learn some new spells, though she would have to work on her calligraphy a bit more before moving on to new talisman designs.</s>
<\|description\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Face Claim: Max Irons AGE 18 GENDER Male Nationality Canadian Intelligence Connection Canadian Security Intelligence Service College/Field of Study Keble College (Archaeology) Personality Colin is often seen as a person gifted with a certain sense of warmth that draws crowds together. However, Colin is also characterized with a ruthless level of rationality, using his drive, determination and sharp mind to achieve whatever end he has set for himself. This was made very clear during his REDACTED where he made drastic changes as the REDACTED and REDACTED squad. The trouble many people have with Colin is that he can put people on edge after they have known him for some time. They suddenly realize his mannerisms, personality, and body language rarely changes from his warm to calculating sides making him hard to read or predict. REDACTED HISTORY Colin was born in REDACTED, Ontario Canada to his parents REDACTED and REDACTED Sheehan. Both worked for the Canadian Government with his mother working as a field agent for the CSIS and his father working for REDACTED. When they were first approached to join Verita it was while working on a joint operation involving a REDACTED working out of Australia. They had gotten tired with the politics of protecting people and were quick to join when the Verita contacted them. Allowing their son to join was another matter completely. While on a REDACTED in Ireland Colin's mother was the first one given the opportunity to integrate Colin into the secret community, but she rebuffed it immediately. When the organization approached his father on the other hand he went home and brought it up with his wife for discussion. His arguments were heard, but after the initial conversation they were vetoed by his wife. Colin was at this point still completely out of the loop involving his parents real work and their involvement in the Verita, but he could tell they were arguing about something and it put a huge strain on him and the family. Both seemed to be very conflicted, while his father seemed open to bringing Colin into the fold they both still needed convincing. After two years they decided to accept the proposal after a mission in REDACTED went bad and the Verita had to extract them after they were left in the cold by their handlers and contacts. Conditioning their son was not something that they took lightly and they immediately started him with REDACTED, REDACTED, and other training programs. First told about The Academy program during his freshmen year in secondary high school Colin was initially excited about the opportunity; however, his parents were quick to leave things vague and completely left out the underlining program and instead presenting it as an academic program only. The closer Colin got to graduation and the more he saw his friends blazing their own paths the more uneasy he became with his parents attaching him to this program. He took focus away from his REDACTED and instead started to party and lax on his studies which put him at odds with his family repeatedly. It wasn't until he confronted his parents about why they decided to sign him up for The Academy when they had no right that they finally shared everything with their Son. That night change Colin's life forever as his parents told him about a mission in REDACTED. He learned that his mother, instead of being a pencil pusher in the Canadian bureaucracy machine; was a team leader within REDACTED. Her unit specialized in counter intelligence operations which meant she REDACTED and this past mission got switched on them. Instead of REDACTED it was REDACTED and once they knew their cover was blown they escaped, but not before leaving a .45 resignation letter in one of their contacts. He learned that his father was indeed a police officer but not in the public relations department as he had been raised to believe. Instead he was a senior field commander with the REDACTED. While it was rare for them to work together the two had repeatedly been called upon in different capacities to find and REDACTED a drug lord who was involved in several attacks on REDACTED. Colin learned that night that the program he was signed up for wasn't just an academic track, but one that would completely embed him in the world of espionage. Colin immediately returned to his studies and training with new resolve and has since seen his path line up directly with that of Verita. A true believer in the organization he has an almost zealot belief in what they are attempting to accomplish and will not waver when the moment comes. Equipment * Mothers favorite REDACTED. * Fathers old school flip phone. * Competitive REDACTED Equipment. * Collection of James Bond Books. * Standard Android Google Pixel 4. * His Fathers Diving Watch. Weapons Equipment * Sig Sauer P226 Pistol (Gift from REDACTED) * Several Hidden Knives (Gift from REDACTED) Other * Colin enjoys Baseball and listens to REDACTED games on the radio often. * He is fluent in both English and REDACTED. * Colin has kept up his REDACTED as a stress relief hobby. * He has a deep respect and love for all things puzzle related.</s> <\|message\|>刘梦潭 --- --- Maddie's eyes were drawn to the building that she was supposed to be staying at. In a way, it both stood out and blended in. The building was a metallic, cool-looking platinum black rectangle, not elaborate to attract unwarranted attention, and looked quite like an average flat, but at the same time there was something about the building that stood out to her. Something unique about its sleek design was charming to the future spy. As Maddie was examining the building, she heard the sounds of footsteps on the pavement, growing louder. Maddie immediately swiveled towards the source of the walking to see a young lady standing near her by the building. Maddie's eyes immediately went about registering information about this girl. As her father would always tell her, "Every drop of information you learn will grow to become a waterfall of power." The girl, Maddie noticed, appeared fairly youthful, and so Maddie either assumed she was one of her peers, or some type of student-teacher, perhaps. She also noticed the girl was quite stocky, very well-built, with a domineering look about her. This information, combined with the fact that she was standing alongside Maddie outside this square box building, led her to believe that she was a student as well. Before Maddie could speak if she wanted to, another girl approached, wearing strikingly loud high-heels and toting a variety of goods, before immediately asking, "I guess you two are students as well?" Maddie could tell the girl, another one roughly their age, had a clear American tone and once again made the assumption she was yet another spy, albeit a slightly more social one. Made sense; this one didn't seem to be quite as muscle-bound as the blonde-ish girl, making Maddie assume her field of expertise lied somewhere in the area of support or communication. Maddie cleared her throat. "I think so," she said, her English highly polished and spoken with an audible English accent, a product of her tutelage under several English-born teachers. She then added, "At least, if you both are here for the reason I imagine you're here for." She extended her hand. "Maddie Lau. And you two?" @Infernal Flame</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Reykjavik Airport The tarmac outside Reykjavik, Iceland was cold with a brilliant sun overhead. Colin knew they had a word for days like this as he had seen it on a YouTube video once. Gluggaveður was the word and it fit the situation perfectly. From the inside while going through customs Devin saw through the window the wonderfully light Icelandic countryside. It was easy to see as the airport was basically in its own part of the island removed from most everything including their capital city. The flight that he had been on needed to take a pit stop to refuel. The travel from Vancouver had been somewhat dull due to the lack of human interaction. Unknown to him his ticket wasn't for an economy seat to London, but in fact a private plane that was taking him straight to Oxford. The stop in Iceland was planned, but his requirement to go through customs was not. It was fine for him as he had everything he needed, but what did feel weird was that every time he spoke to someone new they asked him the same question "Are you the only one traveling on this plane?" His answer was as civil as their repeating of the question. "No." In Transit Finally after what felt like an hour, but was really only 20 minutes he and the flight was released to take off. The bright Iceland sun was still above as they took off at 4 AM. The rest of the flight was as mundane as the first half. When the final clearance to land was given Colin secretly thanked God as he was starting to get stir-crazy in the small metal tube. As soon as the doors to the plan hit the tarmac he was out and made his way out of the small airport. His small duffel bag was in one hand with his other holding his phone. Five clicks later he was in an Uber taking him to the requested address. The ride seemed to twist and turn, but he kept a close eye on the map and asked the driver a question or two so as to keep things focused on what he wanted them to. He knew he was nervous as it would have been better for him to remain silent and simply study the map so as to be able to navigate around himself. Still not every day you can say you are starting the rest of your life... Shoe Box When the drivers cell phone announced that they had arrived at the destination Colin thanked him and got out of the car. Standing next to the sidewalk he looked down at his phone to confirm and then over at the three people standing in front of the address. As the car pulled up he noticed the one of them had seemingly only just arrived and started to talk to the others. Oblivious to them and simply saying "Excuse me" he walked right past them and up to the large black building and saw that there was a doorbell. 'Home looks inviting.' he thought as he then rang the doorbell and then glanced back at the three before turning back to the door.</s>	<\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan 20 Minutes Before Students Arrival BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Clank. Rabinder had taken his hand and smashed it down on his alarms snooze button as quickly as he had come to realize what the sound was. He groaned as another day apologetically seemed to be starting. He stayed in bed another five minutes before finally making his way to the bathroom. A quick shower lead him to his dresser where he threw on some underwear, a plain white t-shirt and some sweats. He then made his way up the stairs to the first floor of the Shoe Box and over to the kitchen. There he started to pour himself a bowl of cereal when his watch started to beep. Is there no end to this torture... he thought as he too his bowl and made his way into a back meeting room where the student guides awaited distribution. He set his cereal bowl down and spoke out load to the room "Show me outside cameras - front." He said and several of the mounted monitors sprung to life showing the front part of the house. He watched as one by one the new spies to be arrived quickly and on time. He noted that just like last time everyone started off by standing around until a last arrival decided to simply walk up and ring the doorbell. "You have 5 guests at the front door. Some are armed and there are several unknown electronic devices on their persons." The somewhat automated voice had little in the way of tone, but Rabinder knew what the computer was really trying to say as he picked up his bowl and made his way to the door. He unlocked the chain lock and opened the door to see a young man standing at the doorway with the rest a few paces back. All of them were looking at him as he took a bite out of his frosted flakes. "Come on in." He said through the sugar cereal. He then turned and walked into the living room and put his bowl on the counter top that separated the kitchen and casual room. "So this is the Shoe Box. My name is Rabinder Singha. You can find four bedrooms in the second floor and 3 in this floor. I'm not your dad so you can figure out how you want to go about selecting your sleeping quarters. First meeting is going to be..." He paused until the home smart system spoke. "Briefing will begin at 10 AM with William Stephenson, Elizabeth Lew, and Nathan Hale in attendance. They have said that they expect it to last no more than 3 hours and that attendance is mandatory." "Awwww...." Rabinder muttered when he heard the name Elizabeth would be in attendance. "Thank you." He said in a dismissive voice. "Anyway you can leave your bags here until you figure out your rooms. Just don't come to me to help settle anything."</s>
<\|description\|>刘梦潭 Liu2 meng4 tan2 lau4 mung6 taam4 Madeleine "Maddie" Lau A G E 18 G E N D E R Female N a t i o n a l i t y Chinese / Hong Kongese I n t e l l i g e n c e C o n n e c t i o n MSS ( Ministry of State Security / China) D e c l a r e d M a j o r Classics and Oriental Studies at Mansfield College A P P E A R A N C E Maddie's most noticeable feature is her clear Oriental heritage- she has pale ivory skin complemented by a mane of jet black hair and sharp, caramel eyes. Maddie is slightly below-average in height, but she has a well-developed figure and is lightly muscled, not enough so to be considered overly sinewy but still wiry overall. She very noticeably stands with excellent posture, a combination of both strict family training and a desire for increased height. In terms of apparel, Maddie is rather lackadaisical. Not to say she's utterly un-fashionable, and certainly can dress the part on important days, but often times Maddie will find herself in a mess due to a sheer lack of determination to make herself look better. Despite that, Maddie does have a conventional beauty about her (especially when she [is] prepared) that makes certain objectives for a spy a bit easier, wink wink. P E R S O N A L I T Y Maddie is a naturally vibrant individual- affable and social, a generally warm person that is easy to get along with. When it comes to conversation, Maddie is always open to talk. Despite her openness to conversation, and a propensity for small talk, Maddie finds difficulty in discussing feelings and things that are deeper on an emotional level, often coming off as awkward and gauche when this occurs. Perhaps what is most memorable about Maddie's personality is her undying curiosity. She is always inquisitive and observant of her surroundings, always taking close notice of everything, and committing much of what she sees into memory. Often described as a "genius," Maddie is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to miscellaneous knowledge, an easy Jeopardy champion if she were to be tested. She is well-versed in many fields and enjoys pursuing those interests with other people. For the areas that Maddie is not an expert in, she is more than willing to step outside of her comfort zone and engage in them. [more to follow] wip, but quick gist- sociable but awkward, smart, very curious, a bit more innocent than one would expect from a spy (facade? maybe), a bit of a nerd, but nice, et cetera R E D A C T E D H I S T O R Y Maddie's conception is somewhat of a unique love story. Her father, [REDACTED], was an agent for the MSS, a traveling man who specialized in diplomacy with other countries. A linguist that spoke [REDACTED] different languages, he had been assigned by his superior, [REDACTED], to help influence the transfer of sovereignty of Hong Kong back to China. Hong Kongese from birth, he agreed and spent years traveling to secure crucial agreements and place critical bribes for the transfer to occur. One year, he met [REDACTED], a political science professor at Hong Kong University, and sparked a relationship with her. Their courtship led to a marriage and a child a few years later, that child being Madeleine Lau. With Maddie's father [REDACTED] being out-of-country quite often to work abroad, Maddie was primarily raised by her mother, who soon came to realize that her child was very interesting. Maddie started demonstrating an aptitude for learning very early on, especially in the fields of literature, where her vocabulary blossomed from a young age. Gifted with a ludicrously skilled eidetic memory, Maddie had tackled the likes of Plato's Republic and Machiavelli's The Prince by the age of 8. She was an exceptionally fast learner and gifted student, and Maddie's father came to realize that her talents would be highly useful in Veritas, and so he began to hone her talents with a specialty in spy training. Homeschooled on a grand combination of skills applicable to a spy, Maddie picked up on them exceptionally, and soon became a literal walking encyclopedia of spy knowledge. However, after a near-death mission in [REDACTED], [REDACTED], Maddie's father decided it would be best not to expose his daughter to the dangers of the intelligence community yet, and as such Maddie's experience in actual espionage is theoretical, limited at best. That being said, there's enough knowledge in that brain to make her a force to be reckoned with for sure. Don't underestimate her skills, or you may find yourself [REDACTED] S K I L L S Eidetic Memory: Maddie's most notable characteristic. While not entirely photographic, her memory is still inarguably phenomenal, and allows her to cite information from a variety of sources with ease. Her incredibly observant nature combined with her exceptional knowledge comes in handy often. She's often been deemed as a walking encyclopedia for her vast wealth of knowledge stored inside her brain. Martial Arts: Most likely Maddie's second most notable characteristic, she is a gifted martial artist, having learned from her father, who himself trained heavily in hand-to-hand combat due to the liability of carrying a weapon into the field on certain occasions. Maddie's specialty is in Xing Yi Quan, a kung fu style translating to "Shape-Will Fist" that focuses on quick, aggressive strikes. That being said, Maddie is versed in jiu-jitsu, karate, judo, muay thai, krav maga, and aikido on a theoretical level, with a great understanding in the strengths and weaknesses in all the styles, though lacking in actual practice in all of them. Linguistics: Maddie is fluent in English, Mandarian, and Cantonese, though she tends to use only the former and the latter in her regular life. Maddie also has some experience in speaking French and Japanese, though she cannot read or write in either of them. Speed-reading: Maddie is an exceptionally fast reader, having mastered the ability to avoid subvocalization, and thus allows her to quickly absorb information for processing at a later time. E Q U I P M E N T Two CZ 75 Pistols Thompson Pro Hunter Ballpoint pen Bobby pins Perfume sprays Earrings Mints Other WIP NOTE: personality, appearance, some other info will be coming soon.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Currently On Chapter 1 - Campus Orientation Each Student was given a detailed itinerary laying out their travel arrangements to Oxford, England. As most have arrived in the country via plan they were each assigned a different method of traveling the roughly 1 hour trip from the airport to the university and their new home. When they arrive at the address provided they are simply told to 'await further instructions according to the itinerary.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Night Before Orientation Sitting with his back to the view, William Stephenson held a large manilla envelope in his hand. He used his butter knife to open it from the side and wiggled the photos out onto the plate in front of him. Each picture was a snapshot of a person going about their day at an airport it seemed. None were connected or had any specific perspective other than they weren't looking at the camera. In fact each seemed blissfully unaware of the photograph being taken. Looking at each one carefully and then flipping them to look at the back he saw a multitude of numbers. It looked through them as if he were reading them. He quietly put them back in the envelope and then set it on fire using a candle. The action seemed to catch no one's attention as the clamor and chaos of a busy high end restaurant ran around him. A few minutes later he was joined by a woman in her mid 50's. Her elegant black and white dress matched his suit and tie perfectly with an obvious touch of coordination between them. "You never could stop with the theatrics." She said after she saw the ashes from the burnt paper on the white table cloth. Her accent was a mix of South African and something else that was hard to hear if you didn't know her. "Yes, well, this time it isn't me who seems to be the ringleader…" Stephenson let this thought linger as the table fell into silence. When he finally continued it was only after he saw no movement in his tablemate to break the silence. "The Academy has been mine to oversee for the past 7 years. I see no reason that the recent incidents should reflect on me." The woman seemed to break as she looked down at her purse and then back at the man. "You may see this as an overreaction; however, you would do well to remember that this pet project of yours is not viewed so highly. It took more than a few tense conversations to allow you to continue as overseer." A phone in her purse started to ring. She gave a polite smile and pulled it out. "I am needed in Istanbul. I trust you will see things as they are and understand what position you are in." The woman then stood up gave a curt nod leaving Stephenson just as food was being brought over to the table. He silently watched her left and then accepted his meal while sending her plate back. The rest of the night he was lost in his own thoughts… In this world you always know what position you are in… even when you're dead.</s>	<\|message\|>刘梦潭 Despite the roaring of the helicopter blades, the sounds of air being sliced around her, the jarring of the helicopter controls and the incessant chatter of the pilot and co-pilot, it couldn't be any more quiet inside Maddie's head as she sat inside the chopper. She was sitting back in a small, cushioned chair, her arms folded, as she waited for the helicopter to land at long last. Her deep, dark brown, chocolate eyes scanned the room, examining every nook, every cranny, every angle of the small helicopter's interior. As her father would always tell her, "Every opportunity you have awake is one to observe your surroundings. Hone your awareness. There is no use for sunlight if is not being focused." She would spend hours on some days just observing scenery, observing rooms, observing people and recalling information about them. She thought back to days when her father would take her to restaurants on the Eastern district, and would ask her to close her eyes and recall details about patrons from memory, their clothing, their positions relative to each other, and more. Maddie enjoyed those experiences, these simpler tests of wit and memory over a dish of gu lou juk as opposed to being smack-dab in the middle of an enemy base, surrounded by hostiles, looking for anything that can get you out of that situation. "And here I am, drifting away again," she mumbled to herself, looking up again. While it wasn't the first time she had been away from home, it was the first time that she would be this far away from home for this long, and it was taking its toll on Maddie's mental state ever so slightly. It wasn't like Maddie lacked the ability to take care of herself in any sense of the word, nor was she afraid of the challenges that awaited her in Oxford, England. As both a longtime student of espionage and near-native English speaker, she was confident she would adjust well to her new life. But sometimes emotions do not act rationally, and indeed, Maddie believed the strange "butterflies-in-stomach" experience she was currently undergoing was related to the strange way that emotions sometimes work. There was suddenly a loud bump as the helicopter landed in Oxford, giving Maddie a sudden jolt. She stood quickly as the pilot emerged from the cockpit, peaking his head out as he spoke in a thick drawl. "Aye, we're 'ere, love. Ye can ged off 'bout now. Ye ain't a far walk 'rom the 'dress ye gave me. Just a few blocks 'round the corner and ye'll be right o'er there." Maddie quickly stood, grabbing her bag, and gave the pilot a curt nod. "Thank you, sir. Your services are well-appreciated." The man gave a nod back. "Take care." He gave another glance, now suspicious. "Ey, who are ye, walking 'round London alone with a private 'elicopper ride? Who sent ye here? What mischief 'ya up to?" The girl was already long gone. Maddie walked away from the helipad down the streets of Oxford, her eyes once again buzzing alight in a new environment. She wore a choker top, white with pale blue flower imprints winding around it, underneath a black Broome leather jacket with gold highlights. She also wore a pair of black jeans and a pair of matching knee-high black boots. Around her shoulder was a dark blue satchel with silver trim and silver dragon emblem sewed onto the center, a gift from her mother a year earlier. Winding through the streets of Oxford, observing all the way, Maddie approached a large, almost out-of-place black building. She looked down at the scrap of paper she held in her hand before looking back up at the building. "Seems...about right," she said quietly, in English, to herself. Despite having learned it at a very young age, Maddie still was not entirely confident with her English skills, perhaps from a lack of practice opportunities. She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Guess I'll wait."</s>
<\|description\|>Cairo Valentine Lalatović Florence Pugh\| #DAA520 pronounced Lalatoevich N A T I O N A L I T Y Serbian-French A G E 18 G E N D E R Female S E X U A L I T Y REDACTED- with a slight preference for REDACTED I N T E L L I G E N C E C O N N E C T I O N Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure (DGSE) or General Directorate for External Security in English C O U R S E & C O L L E G E Modern Languages (Spanish and Arabic) at Magdalen College A P P E A R A N C E Cairo's most distinctive feature is her slightly deep voice and rasping laugh. She has an international accent that, more often than not, sounds standard American. However, her accent has been known to change to fit with those she talks to. The second thing most people notice are her green-brown eyes that complement her full, dark brown eyebrows and blonde-brown hair. Her hair is thick and wavy, falling a couple inches below her shoulder. She has a strong, almost squarish face with a pointed chin and full lips. With high cheekbones, her upper lip protrudes ever so lightly from the bottom giving her a haughty look. Due to her constant training, she has a very lean build with plenty of muscles. With a boyish frame, she doesn't have that hourglass figure of most women. One of her best features are her legs, which are strong, thick and long. In her clothing choices, Cairo is fastidious. Her outfits are always well put together and thought out, regardless of whether it's a plain white t-shirt and jeans with her signature blazer or leather jacket, or it's a monochrome look straight out of the pages of Vogue Italia. While she's not adverse to dresses, and has been seen on occasion sporting a flowery dress or a satin number, it's for sure not her go to. Most of the time, she's seen in either pants or shorts of some kind; but almost never in a skirt. Her clothing tends to err on the side of comfortable, classic looks with a focus on practicality. I N T E R E S T S * Languages and Linguistics * Travelling * Weapons Training * Running * Mountaineering * Judo, Krav Maga and MMA * REDACTED and REDACTED * REDACTED * REDACTED and REDACTED P E R S O N A L I T Y Cairo's the definition of a cool girl. Aloof, self-assured, sharp and charismatic, with enough edge to make her interesting. More often than not people take her slightly REDACTED, and REDACTED at face value; neglecting to see beyond her tough exterior. For those allowed beyond that wall, Cairo is fiercely REDACTED, REDACTED and REDACTED. REDACTED SECTION She can also be quite shy, although she's been taught to hide that well. When shy, her REDACTED REDACTED is a cold and aloof personality; choosing to unnerve rather than endear. With her masculine vibe and intense energy, she has been known to intimidate and impress in equal measure. REDACTED SENTENCE She's a bit reckless and REDACTED, which has left her in sticky situations in the past. Contrary to how she appears, REDACTED, throwing herself into situations and getting herself out of them through sheer force of will. Cairo's also a bit of a REDACTED, and always up for an adventure. REDACTED SECTION R E D A C T E D H I S T O R Y Born the daughter of REDACTED and REDACTED, Cairo's always been a part of this life. Her grandfather had been part of REDACTED during the Cold War, but defected to REDACTED with his family during the height of the Cold War. As such, her father grew up in France and joined REDACTED where he met her mother; herself a child of an operative. REDACTED SECTION Posing as a low-level diplomat and a diplomat's husband, the two have travelled from post to post until Cairo was born. From the moment of her birth, Cairo was raised to join the long line of intelligence operatives. Due to her upbringing, Cairo grew up quite distanced from children her age. She's been training as an operative, and with the goal of joining Verità for as long as she can remember. REDACTED SENTENCE While she has been taught all the necessary skills, and more, required of a lethal agent she has yet to kill. Most of her practical experience has been centered on stealth or infiltration. As such, she is able to easily adapt to most situations and blend in without raising alarm. M I S C. & E Q U I P M E N T She is a polyglot and speaks REDACTED and REDACTED as her native languages. She is fluent in REDACTED and REDACTED, easily passing for a native speaker. She is also working on a variety of other languages, most advanced of which are REDACTED, REDACTED and REDACTED. As for her equipment, Cairo is an expert marksman and usually carries with her, at the most basic level, a Walther PPK handgun. She also has in her arsenal a 9mm Glock 17, a 9mm Heckler & Koch USP, a French military issue sniper rifle, and an M16 assault rifle. She's also been taught some other fighting using swords, sticks and makeshift weapons. Of more interest are REDACTED that, when fitted together, form a hairpin. She also has several magnetic bracelets which can REDACTED SECTION. She also has 2 packs of cigarettes that, as she doesn't smoke, work as REDACTED SECTION. She has some other interesting gadgets such as REDACTED SECTION. Lastly, Cairo has her personal climbing gear that has been configured for intelligence and stealth work.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan Reykjavik Airport The tarmac outside Reykjavik, Iceland was cold with a brilliant sun overhead. Colin knew they had a word for days like this as he had seen it on a YouTube video once. Gluggaveður was the word and it fit the situation perfectly. From the inside while going through customs Devin saw through the window the wonderfully light Icelandic countryside. It was easy to see as the airport was basically in its own part of the island removed from most everything including their capital city. The flight that he had been on needed to take a pit stop to refuel. The travel from Vancouver had been somewhat dull due to the lack of human interaction. Unknown to him his ticket wasn't for an economy seat to London, but in fact a private plane that was taking him straight to Oxford. The stop in Iceland was planned, but his requirement to go through customs was not. It was fine for him as he had everything he needed, but what did feel weird was that every time he spoke to someone new they asked him the same question "Are you the only one traveling on this plane?" His answer was as civil as their repeating of the question. "No." In Transit Finally after what felt like an hour, but was really only 20 minutes he and the flight was released to take off. The bright Iceland sun was still above as they took off at 4 AM. The rest of the flight was as mundane as the first half. When the final clearance to land was given Colin secretly thanked God as he was starting to get stir-crazy in the small metal tube. As soon as the doors to the plan hit the tarmac he was out and made his way out of the small airport. His small duffel bag was in one hand with his other holding his phone. Five clicks later he was in an Uber taking him to the requested address. The ride seemed to twist and turn, but he kept a close eye on the map and asked the driver a question or two so as to keep things focused on what he wanted them to. He knew he was nervous as it would have been better for him to remain silent and simply study the map so as to be able to navigate around himself. Still not every day you can say you are starting the rest of your life... Shoe Box When the drivers cell phone announced that they had arrived at the destination Colin thanked him and got out of the car. Standing next to the sidewalk he looked down at his phone to confirm and then over at the three people standing in front of the address. As the car pulled up he noticed the one of them had seemingly only just arrived and started to talk to the others. Oblivious to them and simply saying "Excuse me" he walked right past them and up to the large black building and saw that there was a doorbell. 'Home looks inviting.' he thought as he then rang the doorbell and then glanced back at the three before turning back to the door.</s> <\|message\|>Colin REDACTED Sheehan 20 Minutes Before Students Arrival BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Clank. Rabinder had taken his hand and smashed it down on his alarms snooze button as quickly as he had come to realize what the sound was. He groaned as another day apologetically seemed to be starting. He stayed in bed another five minutes before finally making his way to the bathroom. A quick shower lead him to his dresser where he threw on some underwear, a plain white t-shirt and some sweats. He then made his way up the stairs to the first floor of the Shoe Box and over to the kitchen. There he started to pour himself a bowl of cereal when his watch started to beep. Is there no end to this torture... he thought as he too his bowl and made his way into a back meeting room where the student guides awaited distribution. He set his cereal bowl down and spoke out load to the room "Show me outside cameras - front." He said and several of the mounted monitors sprung to life showing the front part of the house. He watched as one by one the new spies to be arrived quickly and on time. He noted that just like last time everyone started off by standing around until a last arrival decided to simply walk up and ring the doorbell. "You have 5 guests at the front door. Some are armed and there are several unknown electronic devices on their persons." The somewhat automated voice had little in the way of tone, but Rabinder knew what the computer was really trying to say as he picked up his bowl and made his way to the door. He unlocked the chain lock and opened the door to see a young man standing at the doorway with the rest a few paces back. All of them were looking at him as he took a bite out of his frosted flakes. "Come on in." He said through the sugar cereal. He then turned and walked into the living room and put his bowl on the counter top that separated the kitchen and casual room. "So this is the Shoe Box. My name is Rabinder Singha. You can find four bedrooms in the second floor and 3 in this floor. I'm not your dad so you can figure out how you want to go about selecting your sleeping quarters. First meeting is going to be..." He paused until the home smart system spoke. "Briefing will begin at 10 AM with William Stephenson, Elizabeth Lew, and Nathan Hale in attendance. They have said that they expect it to last no more than 3 hours and that attendance is mandatory." "Awwww...." Rabinder muttered when he heard the name Elizabeth would be in attendance. "Thank you." He said in a dismissive voice. "Anyway you can leave your bags here until you figure out your rooms. Just don't come to me to help settle anything."</s>	<\|message\|>Cairo Valentine Lalatović Same time, same place. --- Cairo smiled carefully at the new girl in welcome, her mouth closed and slightly pointy. The other two started chatting lightly, slipping effortlessly into that sort of small talk that never came easily to Cairo, the girl. Cairo, the spy, however, could engage even the most guarded of her marks in conversation, flitting seamlessly from one topic to the next. But the girl herself, was more awkward then that. That's why, when she was given an opening, a chance to introduce herself, her nervousness came out in short, clipped sentences. "Cairo." She extended her hand to clasp the Asian chick's one, her grip firm. Before much more could be said, a boy breezed by them, displacing the other girls a little. Cairo, built as robustly as she was, barely shifted. He rang the doorbell, and the assembled group waited. Another boy had joined by the time the anticipation tinged silence has slowly morphed into tension. Finally, the door swung open to reveal a boy— no, man— boy-man standing in the doorway eating some cereal carelessly. He looked Indian, or Middle Eastern, with the lazy air characteristic of the many fresher boys who populated UK universities. He waved them in as he turned further into the building. Curious, Cairo stepped away from the sidewalk, and past the boy who'd pressed the doorbell, into the house proper. Her bags were placed neatly to one side of the living room. It was an open plan, modern space with the living room bleeding effortlessly into the kitchen. Not that it's a hardship to make it look effortless since there are only two colours to speak of in this house, she thought to herself. He gave a little spiel, with the barest of information actually revealed, in that same careless voice that matched the rest of his persona. At the announcement that they would be choosing their rooms for themselves, Cairo let out an internal sigh of frustration. Toss a couple of unfamiliar people into a group, and there was bound to be some tension. None of that community spirit has been created, nor the bonds of friendship so she thought it would be too much to ask to get them to decide on this in an orderly way. But she'd try. "Thanks, Rabindar. About the rooms," with this she turned to face the rest of the students, "why don't we all individually check them out and meet back here in 5 minutes to decide who gets what, based on if certain people have any preferences." Although she didn't know it, she looked pretty intimidating as she stared the rest of them down, her eyes icy, and her resting b*tch face firmly in place.</s>
<\|description\|>Joss Age: 27 Occupation: Driver/ Amateur Mechanic / Appointed "Fixer" Personality Traits: Introverted \| Friendly \| Flirtatious (with certain people) \| Risk-taker \| Addiction (pain meds from an accident)</s> <\|message\|>Joss Like many places throughout the world, as the sun begins to melt behind the horizon and the last vestiges of light give way to the shroud of darkness, the whole landscape seems to transform. What could be considered to most a colorful and enriching experience during the day, would slowly morph into something so much more. Perhaps not as vibrant to the eye as one would normally perceive, but rather the other senses are opened up to new experiences of which could be found lurking in the shadows. Within the urban playground of New York City's Five Boroughs, a place just below the surface of the normal psyche, a "Shadowland" resides, perceived under the light of the moon -from dusk 'til dawn- and only to those individuals brought into its fold. Normal humans live out their lives on a daily basis, many never knowing about the otherworldly existence. But it has been there long before the settlement of man, and it will no doubt be there at their extinction. The Shadowland is but a mirror image of the realm it resides in, but much more exotic yet void of natural color, where just about anything you can imagine may be procured, and where shapeshifting creatures known as "Changelings" exist, serving or -sometimes- enslaving humans for their own interests. Residentials, businesses, and a myriad of other establishments are a secret home to these creatures, but one doesn't simply waltz unknowingly into this realm. No. These select humans must be invited by a creature who visits the mortal realm under the guise of humanity, but actually lives in the Shadowland, which then reveals their true form. For the most part, those humans fortunate -unfortunate?- enough to have delved into the ancient, secretive society of the Underworld and are allowed to return to the mortal plane, are stripped of any recollection of where they had been. A void in their memory, which other memories quickly collapse onto, covering any trace of memory loss and maintaining the integrity of the Changelings realm. However, there are those who carry with them a piece of the Shadowland. A fragmental memory you could even call it, and something that, while isn't wholly apparent to the host, conjures up flashes of the otherworld whether in dreams, or brief waking glimpses. Generally, these mortals are hunted down by a Shadowland "memory plucker", pulling just enough from the individual to satisfy their mission, because anything more may cause the target to fall into insanity or worse, death. If all is successful, then there is nothing more to do, however, if the secrecy of the Shadowland is compromised in any way, or the rare death of a mortal caused by removing memories does occur, it is up to an appointed "Fixer" to clear up any loose ends. Fixers were generally those humans who, for one reason or another, proved their loyalty to those within the Shadowland, and could be trusted to assist in keeping its anonymity within a certain region of the mortal plane. The title of "Fixer" can be given to any human, in any walk of life or profession, but is generally bestowed upon those who have contacts and influence within governmental and local agencies to call upon for assistance. Each Fixer's own memories and knowledge of the Shadowlands existence are slim to none, believing rather that they work for an underground organization who pays them well enough to keep their affairs in line. No questions asked.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell The day was...dull. Olivia hated dull days. They always went by so slowly. No matter how many things she got done and how productive she was, the clock always felt like it was ticking by at a snail's pace. And no matter what she did to keep busy, the clock would not change how fast it was going. Then there was there was the fact that the reason Olivia was even a pawn shop owner in New York City was for the interesting bits of life that managed to find it's way to her shop. Like the couples that would barge in before closing in a rush to buy whatever piece of jewelry she had to offer so they could elope. Or the teenagers that wandered in thinking the shop would be a good place to practice their stealing. She even enjoyed the angry strangers that would come along with stories of how a family member pawned something of theirs. Today, the customers were normal. No new stories to share and definitely nothing interesting about them make the day good or bad. At the moment, Olivia was taking advantage of the dull and quiet day to organize her inventory. She was rather particular about the way she presented her shop. She wanted her customers to feel comfortable, while also keeping her shop spotless and items placed exactly right. Olivia somehow managed to keep the shop from looking like an indoor garage sale, which she thought was a pretty impressive feat, though she had her doubts others saw it that way. Olivia looked at the clock. An hour before closing. She gave an audible sigh and placed another old book on the shelf. At least the day was almost done.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The knock at the window went unheard a few times, along with the muffled voice on the other side, which was anything but pleased. A sharp tap on the glass with the tip of a 9mm handgun definitely did the trick though, as the short-haired driver awoke from a dead sleep, their eyes opening wide to see the man in a navy blue business suit standing outside. "Shit…" The driver grunted under their breath as tired eyes were rubbed under black RayBans, enough for the mascara around sky blue eyes to smear just a little against olive-toned skin. "Roll down the fuckin' window." The muffled -but understood- voice of the other demanded, surveying the area for a moment before looking back at the driver, who was adjusting their black, tattered motorcycle jacket which smelled of old leather and motor oil. "Now." "Okay, okay, chill man." The driver mumbled as they cranked the window all the way down. There were very little modern amenities with the car, which was a sleek black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Rebuilt by the driver over the course of several years, from junk, to a stylish piece of art, and a beast of an eight-cylinder engine. Most of what was used were refurbished, but original, parts which were hard enough to come by. All in all, it was the most prized possession of the one driving it. It was definitely considered their baby. "I assume you missed the three phone calls and several text messages?" The man asked, his voice stern as though being reprimanded by a disapproving father. The other looked down at their phone and realized it was true. "Look, I'm sor-" "We don't need your excuses, Joss." The man leaned over with a hand propped on the door, and adjusted his eyeglasses. "But you need to get your shit together or you're out, capisce?" Working for an Italian crime family in New York City felt like working for all the cliche mobster films rolled in one. Sure, they treated you well when you did your job, but you had to endure some of the oddest characters. Some worse than others. This guy, however, was more or less in the middle of that spectrum, but Joss knew there were no real friends in their line of work, just assholes and lesser assholes. "Yeah, I get it." They signed, lighting up a cigarette that had been sitting on the dash for awhile, and taking a long drag." "Jesus girl, why do you still smoke those things. Don't you know they can kill ya?" The older man smirked, his yellowed tobacco-stained teeth peaking through dark lips. " 'They.' 'Them.' 'Driver.' Or just call me by my name." Joss interjected. "What?" "Don't call me 'girl'." The other said, blowing smoke out the window and into the man's face. "Fuck's sake, yeah, I forgot about that 'non-binary' bullshit." The man shook his head. "Look, I'll call you whatever you want as long as you're on time tonight. Remember. Sonny's over on twenty-third. Eleven sharp." And with that, the man tapped the hood of the car and walked away across the street, disappearing around a corner. Joss checked the time, barely quarter to eight in the morning, so still plenty of time to grab some breakfast, head home and shower, and possibly sleep off the rest of the lingering hangover from the night before. The engine roared to life, and moments later, the car and driver were gone.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s>	<\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s>
<\|description\|>Joss Age: 27 Occupation: Driver/ Amateur Mechanic / Appointed "Fixer" Personality Traits: Introverted \| Friendly \| Flirtatious (with certain people) \| Risk-taker \| Addiction (pain meds from an accident)</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s> <\|message\|>Joss For a moment, Joss was taken aback by Olivia's coldness, wondering what in the hell could be so important that conversing with a friend would be a distraction? Of course, they normally thought such things, and shrugged it off as self-esteem issues or simply bad timing. However, it wasn't always like that, not from what the Driver ever remembered. It seemed like within the last year or so, Olivia had become more of a reclusive, and less interested anything else but her work. "Look, you don't have to go, it's no bother." Joss said in a hurry, noticing the girl across the table gathering up her papers and other supplies. "You're not leaving already? I just got here. Well, can I at least walk you out?" The breakfast sandwich all but disappeared into their mouth at the end of the question, not wanting a missed opportunity with a friend. "Um, how about I give you a ride somewhere?" Joss took a big gulp of coffee to wash down the remaining food.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia paused at the question of getting a ride. She could use that. Her first collection had grown quite big. She had items she had to bring back home along with all of these contracts that had to be dealt with. It was a lot and the task of hauling had started to get kind of daunting. It would be much easier if she had a car. "I'm just going across the street," Olivia pointed to her pawn shop that hardly required a decent walk to get there, much less a drive. She pulled her hair back down to cover up the slight point in her ears again, glad she's have a way home to fix the small flaws starting to show in her glamour. She gave Joss a smile, probably the first on in a long time. Olivia realized it was probably just going to encourage them to keep trying to hang out, but she was prepared to take that consequence. "But I do have somewhere to go after I close up today. A ride would be nice, if that's not too much of a bother."</s>	<\|message\|>Joss Their face lit up with excitement when Olivia mentioned giving them a ride later that day. "Of course I can help you!" Joss exclaimed, just about loud enough to make a few heads turn from other tables across the dining area. "I mean, it has been forever since we actually got to hang out, so I have no problem with that." In their overly enthusiastic moment, something was off just a bit. "Wait, um, what time do you need a ride tonight?" They remembered that they had to be at Sonny's down on Twenty-third at eleven, but there's no way that Olivia would need a ride that late. Was there? The Italian restaurant Joss had to stop off at was only about fifteen minutes away so it wouldn't be a big deal either way. "You know what, we can make it work. I'm here for you, Liv, you know this." The Driver smiled, reaching across the table hoping to hold the hand of her friend. A friend they liked for a long time but wasn't up-front enough to tell her how they really felt about her. Joss wanted something more, but also, didn't want to rush it.</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Campbell Age: 29 Occupation: Pawnshop Owner Personality Traits: Cold \| Animal Lover (when no one is looking) \| Straight to the point \| Neat Freak</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell The day was...dull. Olivia hated dull days. They always went by so slowly. No matter how many things she got done and how productive she was, the clock always felt like it was ticking by at a snail's pace. And no matter what she did to keep busy, the clock would not change how fast it was going. Then there was there was the fact that the reason Olivia was even a pawn shop owner in New York City was for the interesting bits of life that managed to find it's way to her shop. Like the couples that would barge in before closing in a rush to buy whatever piece of jewelry she had to offer so they could elope. Or the teenagers that wandered in thinking the shop would be a good place to practice their stealing. She even enjoyed the angry strangers that would come along with stories of how a family member pawned something of theirs. Today, the customers were normal. No new stories to share and definitely nothing interesting about them make the day good or bad. At the moment, Olivia was taking advantage of the dull and quiet day to organize her inventory. She was rather particular about the way she presented her shop. She wanted her customers to feel comfortable, while also keeping her shop spotless and items placed exactly right. Olivia somehow managed to keep the shop from looking like an indoor garage sale, which she thought was a pretty impressive feat, though she had her doubts others saw it that way. Olivia looked at the clock. An hour before closing. She gave an audible sigh and placed another old book on the shelf. At least the day was almost done.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The knock at the window went unheard a few times, along with the muffled voice on the other side, which was anything but pleased. A sharp tap on the glass with the tip of a 9mm handgun definitely did the trick though, as the short-haired driver awoke from a dead sleep, their eyes opening wide to see the man in a navy blue business suit standing outside. "Shit…" The driver grunted under their breath as tired eyes were rubbed under black RayBans, enough for the mascara around sky blue eyes to smear just a little against olive-toned skin. "Roll down the fuckin' window." The muffled -but understood- voice of the other demanded, surveying the area for a moment before looking back at the driver, who was adjusting their black, tattered motorcycle jacket which smelled of old leather and motor oil. "Now." "Okay, okay, chill man." The driver mumbled as they cranked the window all the way down. There were very little modern amenities with the car, which was a sleek black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Rebuilt by the driver over the course of several years, from junk, to a stylish piece of art, and a beast of an eight-cylinder engine. Most of what was used were refurbished, but original, parts which were hard enough to come by. All in all, it was the most prized possession of the one driving it. It was definitely considered their baby. "I assume you missed the three phone calls and several text messages?" The man asked, his voice stern as though being reprimanded by a disapproving father. The other looked down at their phone and realized it was true. "Look, I'm sor-" "We don't need your excuses, Joss." The man leaned over with a hand propped on the door, and adjusted his eyeglasses. "But you need to get your shit together or you're out, capisce?" Working for an Italian crime family in New York City felt like working for all the cliche mobster films rolled in one. Sure, they treated you well when you did your job, but you had to endure some of the oddest characters. Some worse than others. This guy, however, was more or less in the middle of that spectrum, but Joss knew there were no real friends in their line of work, just assholes and lesser assholes. "Yeah, I get it." They signed, lighting up a cigarette that had been sitting on the dash for awhile, and taking a long drag." "Jesus girl, why do you still smoke those things. Don't you know they can kill ya?" The older man smirked, his yellowed tobacco-stained teeth peaking through dark lips. " 'They.' 'Them.' 'Driver.' Or just call me by my name." Joss interjected. "What?" "Don't call me 'girl'." The other said, blowing smoke out the window and into the man's face. "Fuck's sake, yeah, I forgot about that 'non-binary' bullshit." The man shook his head. "Look, I'll call you whatever you want as long as you're on time tonight. Remember. Sonny's over on twenty-third. Eleven sharp." And with that, the man tapped the hood of the car and walked away across the street, disappearing around a corner. Joss checked the time, barely quarter to eight in the morning, so still plenty of time to grab some breakfast, head home and shower, and possibly sleep off the rest of the lingering hangover from the night before. The engine roared to life, and moments later, the car and driver were gone.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Campbell Age: 29 Occupation: Pawnshop Owner Personality Traits: Cold \| Animal Lover (when no one is looking) \| Straight to the point \| Neat Freak</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again. Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money. Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window. The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed. She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily. Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Joss The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort. Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads. With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities. On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend. "Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload." They just loved pointing out the obvious. "Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?" "Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you." "Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object. The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession. She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way. Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table. She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress. "Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life." While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything. "I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime." Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?" It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths. It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents. It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person. She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."</s> <\|message\|>Joss For a moment, Joss was taken aback by Olivia's coldness, wondering what in the hell could be so important that conversing with a friend would be a distraction? Of course, they normally thought such things, and shrugged it off as self-esteem issues or simply bad timing. However, it wasn't always like that, not from what the Driver ever remembered. It seemed like within the last year or so, Olivia had become more of a reclusive, and less interested anything else but her work. "Look, you don't have to go, it's no bother." Joss said in a hurry, noticing the girl across the table gathering up her papers and other supplies. "You're not leaving already? I just got here. Well, can I at least walk you out?" The breakfast sandwich all but disappeared into their mouth at the end of the question, not wanting a missed opportunity with a friend. "Um, how about I give you a ride somewhere?" Joss took a big gulp of coffee to wash down the remaining food.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia paused at the question of getting a ride. She could use that. Her first collection had grown quite big. She had items she had to bring back home along with all of these contracts that had to be dealt with. It was a lot and the task of hauling had started to get kind of daunting. It would be much easier if she had a car. "I'm just going across the street," Olivia pointed to her pawn shop that hardly required a decent walk to get there, much less a drive. She pulled her hair back down to cover up the slight point in her ears again, glad she's have a way home to fix the small flaws starting to show in her glamour. She gave Joss a smile, probably the first on in a long time. Olivia realized it was probably just going to encourage them to keep trying to hang out, but she was prepared to take that consequence. "But I do have somewhere to go after I close up today. A ride would be nice, if that's not too much of a bother."</s> <\|message\|>Joss Their face lit up with excitement when Olivia mentioned giving them a ride later that day. "Of course I can help you!" Joss exclaimed, just about loud enough to make a few heads turn from other tables across the dining area. "I mean, it has been forever since we actually got to hang out, so I have no problem with that." In their overly enthusiastic moment, something was off just a bit. "Wait, um, what time do you need a ride tonight?" They remembered that they had to be at Sonny's down on Twenty-third at eleven, but there's no way that Olivia would need a ride that late. Was there? The Italian restaurant Joss had to stop off at was only about fifteen minutes away so it wouldn't be a big deal either way. "You know what, we can make it work. I'm here for you, Liv, you know this." The Driver smiled, reaching across the table hoping to hold the hand of her friend. A friend they liked for a long time but wasn't up-front enough to tell her how they really felt about her. Joss wanted something more, but also, didn't want to rush it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Campbell Olivia sighed and made a big effort not to roll her eyes when Joss got excited over the simple favor she asked of them. She thought about backing out and just walking, but what was done was done. It would be harder now to take it away. Besides, it would be a lot easier to go by car. She had a lot of stuff to get over there. And perhaps it'd be easier to get rid of Joss if she just kept using them for favors. At some point a human would realize they were being used, right? "Just meet me outside the shop around ten, alright?" Olivia kept her voice down in hopes to get Joss to pull back the enthusiasm. "And I need your trunk to be empty. I have a lot of things to haul over."</s>
<\|description\|>Kingdom of Hispalis Name of Leader: King Charles XII Philip Age: 36 National Capital: Toletum (in Emerita) National Currency: Oro National Languages: Hispalian Nation Claim 1: Vaconia 2: Bracara 3: Emerita 4: Cesaracosta 5: Barcino 6: Carthago 7: Malaca Nation Demographics Nation Size: 7 Population: 10 Homogeneity: 8 Colonial Demographics Colonial Holdings: 1 Colonial Stability: 4 Colonial Influence: 3 Army Infantry Strength: 7 Infantry Quality: 8 Infantry Logistics: 8 Cavalry Strength: 1 Cavalry Quality: 2 Cavalry Logistics: 1 Artillery Strength: 5 Artillery Quality: 5 Artillery Logistics: 5 Army Commander Quality: 7 Navy Ship of the Line Strength: 4 Ship of the Line Quality: 4 Ship of the Line Logistics: 4 Cruiser Strength: 1 Cruiser Quality: 1 Cruiser Logistics: 1 Naval Commander Quality: 3 Economics Development of Low Industry: 10 Development of Middle Industry: 10 Development of High Industry: 10</s> <\|message\|>The Empire of Khazaria The Winter Palace at the city of Mel-Izar was turning into a rather busy place. The bells of war had been called all over the country and now it seemed that another front was about to open. To the south, the long-standing rivals of Khazaria, Komentiolos, had begun their naval operations over the black sea. Waiting for the results was stressful enough for the ex-imperial regent, Sevil Macar but it seemed that the sixteen-year-old. Şahin Macar remained calm over this throne waiting for the reports both from the west and south, his mind had turned into an incognita for most but not for Sevil, the aunt that had raised him. She was quick to recognize that the true face of the Emperor was that of a young emperor, excited to prove his worth yet nervous to fail in the early steps that could have him labeled for the entirety of his reign. A defeat was not allowed for him and his pride, when he gave the order to Alp Tarkhan to attack the western areas with impunity it was quite clear that he sought glory and prestige as the ruler of his kingdom should succeed. But at the same time, he worried over a possible defeat of the coalition army to the west. It was impossible to tell by the reports, just how much Alp Tarkhan was collaborating with his allies and only seeking glory for himself rather than trying to actually win the war. One of Sahin's fingers constantly tapped the arm side of his throne, he was anxiously waiting for the report that Alp Tarkhan had promised would arrive soon and two weeks had passed and nothing had been sent. Had Alp Tarkhan been defeated and his army routed so that the news would probably take far longer to get through the wartorn region of the Dorist province. It made him smile though, that a war begun with a provocation by the Dorist had turned so sour to them, rallied the eastern neighbors and probably secured another hundred years of peace between Stevata, Teclav and Khazaria. A couple of servants beverages to the young Emperor and he drank them graciously, it helped cool his head off. He looked at his aunt and nodded, thanking her for the gesture. It was already the afternoon and it was about time to take a bath, the Emperor was thinking of retiring from his throne room in the winter palace for the day, perhaps tomorrow would bring the reports he sought so much or perhaps not. It was then that footsteps of metal Khazarian boots could be heard coming from the hallway, Sahin macar leaned his back on his throne preparing himself for whatever was to come. This could be an early victory or defeat depending on just how well Alp Tarkhan had worded the letter addressed to him. The guards opened the door and the messenger the Emperor had sent to Alp Tarkhan could be seen. He bowed to the Emperor and then approached him, leaving the message on the hands of Imperial Regent Sevil Macar, who then passed it to the young emperor. The messenger respectfully retreated back waiting for the Emperor to speak, his aunt waiting for him to read it and then pass judgment. But her eyes were far focused on his facial gestures, something that could tell more than a thousand words in circumstances like this. "It is done." The Emperor stood up after reading the report, leaving the report on the experienced hands of his aunt. "Alp Tarkhan has been victorious!" He said rallying the cheers of his bureaucracy, servants and the guardsmen. It was tradition to always cheer a victory and it was the Emperor's judgement to say if a battle was a victory or not, but it seemed that the conditions on the front had stabilized and for the better. One of the Dorist's armies had been defeated on the field, while casualties had been inflicted upon his own forces it was expected that the Khazarian footmen wouldn't perform as well as its cavalry or their Dorist counterparts. "It is certainly a victory." Confirmed Sevil, the Emperor's aunt with a nod of her head. Her approval gave the whole court a sense of relief. "But it won't be much so for the sons, brothers, and fathers who were sent to the battle." She finished with those words, the Emperor glaring at her trying to understand her but finally doing so and instead of minimizing the death of his subjects, he remembered the great sacrifices that past emperors had also taken to ensure that their subjects had not suffered as much. "You are right, the soldiers who have fallen in this battle are just as important as any other of my subjects, they deserve a propel rest with the great sky father. I am sure that the pensions we pay to windows and orphans will get to the families of the fallen. They have done their part for the Empire and I can only thank them for that with shiny coins and pretty words.." He finished, realizing that just as his mother and father had died because of fate, the bodies littering the fields had also died because of the pettiness of fate. He calmed himself though and he knew that the war wasn't yet over. Two Dorist armies remained to the west and the navy of Komentiolos had been hurting trade and commerce through their raiding and letters of marque. But the navy of Khazaria had yet to fulfill its potential and much like the army, it still needed years of training and preparedness to fulfill the security needs of his nation. The war had also begun to drain the national treasuries, time would be needed to solve all those issues but the backstabbers of the Komentiolos true nature could finally be seen. "Anyways. This victory is enough for us at the moment, it is time to rally help from the south and who else that our long-standing friends to the south. We had indeed promised to respect their neutrality out of respect for their marriage ties with their neighbors to the west. But that was for the conflict with Dorist, this time the hidden dagger of Komentiolos has struck us like that of an opportunist crow looking for meat. But they won't find any rotten meat in our empire! and less without allies to support us. They will pay the price of this affront with interest." The speech of the emperor roused another cheer from the nobles within the court and his officers. "Bring me a scribe. I want this message immediately sent to the king of Paranas."</s> <\|message\|>The Grimhout Empire Arch-Duke Jean-Baptise Dervau closed his eyes, feeling the roll of the ship beneath him and letting the spray of the sea wash over him. The sun had made a rare appearance over the channel, and Jean-Baptiste could feel the warmth of it on his face. It had been too long since he was last at sea, he missed the freedom of it. Even though, the weight of ruling the empire weighed less on his shoulders, and for a moment, he was just a boy again. But it was only a moment, and as he opened his eyes again, the significance of his position came rushing back. The coastline of Kehsi stretched out before him, drawing closer with every passing moment. Jean-Baptiste had envisioned taking this voyage before, but back then he had been a reckless teenager, envisioning himself at the head of a fleet. Turning away from the approaching shore, Jean-Baptiste allowed himself a smile at how far reality was from his fantasy. 'Tigre' was a formidable ship in her own right, but she was taking the journey alone, a flag of diplomacy flying from her mainmast rather than one of war. Jean-Baptiste had grown up hearing stories of the countless wars between Grimhout and Kehsi, and yet now he stood upon a ship sailing into the very heart of Kehsi. If his journey was successful, those wars would remain firmly in the past, and perhaps both nations could finally begin to heal those old wounds. The Archduke found his gaze drifting back towards the distant shoreline of his own nation, and for a moment, he questioned his own actions. He was proud to call Christophe his son, and he was under no illusions about his own mortality, but leaving his son as the de facto ruler of the Empire in his absence... Was it too much to thrust upon the young man's shoulders? As if on cue, Jean-Baptiste heard the man standing next to him shift on his feet, and felt a hand on his shoulder. Tearing his eyes away from the shores of Grimhout, Jean-Baptiste glanced into the face of his brother, and saw a wry smile on the other man's face. "I know that face. You shouldn't worry so much. Christophe is a good man, and besides, Roseline will keep him in line. She has plenty of experience with that!" Jean-Baptiste felt the worry lifting off him as he smiled. It had been Roseline's idea to bring Marc-Antoine with him on the diplomatic mission, and he was already glad that he had listened. The brothers had grown up together, and they always seemed to know what the other one was thinking. While Charles was the care-free charmer, Marc-Antoine had always had his head screwed on right, and Jean-Baptiste had found himself coming to his youngest brother for advice more times than he could count. His mission was taking him into uncharted territory, and he could think of few men that he would rather by his side. "Thank you, brother. But it is not only Christophe I am worried for." For an instant, the smile on Marc-Antoine's face faltered, and he turned to look towards the coastline of Kehsi. There was a brief moment of silence as the two brothers both watched the ancient enemy draw closer. The task that lay before them was one that their ancestors had always fallen short of. Could they succeed where so many others had failed?</s>	<\|message\|>Kingdom of Hispalis The harsh cacophony of agitated water and grinding steel filled the air in a largely empty room with two notable excepts, a metallic hunk of animated iron in the middle and several men standing around it. While it was an unsightly object... the men in the room knew the potential value that such an object could have as it made repetitive movements. That was the key... it was a tireless metal beast of repetition. It did not have to rest. It did not sleep. It did not stop. It only had to eat. As long as the fires were fueled with coal, the engine would not stop. Day and night, it would continue its repetition. Grueling, repetitive manual labor could be replaced. Hispalis was on the verge of a new revolution. Yet, the King of Hispalis kept his excitement tempered. The engine worked. It worked TOO well. It had the potential to disturb the jobs and livelihoods of thousands if not millions. Millers, weavers... and more could find themselves replaced by the 'machine'. Productive citizens were a foundation of a nation, and the engine threatened to disturb it if they were too careless with the implementation of the machine. Charles looked to the creator, Julio Vera, and said "Your ingenuity and resourcefulness are a treasure to the nation. Mr. Vera, you will hear from me soon. In the decades to come, your work may span entire cities if not the entire country. I will see to it, but first we must test the engine and see how economically viable it is in commercial use. Until then, farewell and continue to be a shining paragon of Hispalis ingenuity." --- King Charles looked at the reports from the growing wars to the east. It was a scary fact and statistic to read, yet he knew that for the people who lived there that the horrors of war had reared its ugly head. Perhaps... it could have been avoided, but by now it was clearly too late. He prayed that the conflict would end swiftly and that despite all the bloodshed that it would not be in complete vain. "...And when the burning moment breaks, And all things else are out of mind, And only joy of battle takes Him by the throat and makes him blind, Through joy and blindness he shall know, Not caring much to know, that still Nor lead nor steel shall reach him, so That it be not the Destined Will. The thundering line of battle stands, And in the air Death moans and sings; But Day shall clasp him with strong hands, And Night shall fold him in soft wings."</s>
<\|description\|>Felix Jones Age: 10 (Born: 24 Feb) ID Number: MY-1801-FJ Nationality: Australian Appearance: MY-1801-FJ is a young boy of Chinese-Australian descent with straight black hair and brown eyes. His physical characteristics and build are all around average for his age, though he is marginally smaller than the norm, coming in at only 136cm tall and weighing 31kg. MY-1801-FJ wears his hair long and has opted to wear the female inmate uniform, though it is unclear whether this has anything to do with gender identity as he has had little exposure to social conventions beyond the confines of Facility B. Background: At age 2 MY-1801-FJ was pulled out from under the wreckage of a detached semi-trailer in Australia, entirely uninjured, in an accident that killed both his parents. His miraculous survival gained news attention at the time and the suspicious circumstances thereof quickly attracted the attention of the Ward, under the suspicion of an anomalous ability. Sure enough, the subsequent forensic investigation was able to quickly prove the impossibility of MY-1801-FJ's survival and without any remaining legal guardians, he was quickly brought into Facility B. MY-1801-FJ has been exceptionally well behaved throughout his childhood in Facility B and has complied with most tests as to his anomalous abilities, save for those that would result in extensive damage to his body or which involve the application of fire, both of which he has developed a strong aversion to. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subject seems to dislike using of his anomalous ability as well as the presence of particularly high-temperature heat sources]. Outside of testing, MY-1801-FJ spent most of his time in Facility B either withdrawn into his head or receiving a basic education from facility staff. Powers: MY-1801-FJ possesses the ability to degenerate and regenerate his cellular material. Degeneration - Any cellular material produced by MY-1801-FJ body will begin to degenerate roughly 1 second after being damaged or separated from the body, disappearing from the outside-in at a rate of around 3cm/sec. The degeneration process generates a relatively large amount of heat, roughly 14.1 kJ/in³ degenerated, this heat is suspected to be the product of inefficiencies in the degeneration process. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subject can be injured by the heat he generates and in cases involving extensive damage this may develop into a feedback loop wherein the damage from the heat generated by the Subject's degeneration exceeds their regenerative capabilities (See Subject Experiment 34 Incident Log). Under no circumstances are tests to be conducted on Subject without access to some means of external cooling]. Regeneration - MY-1801-FJ regenerates from any physical damage to or removal of his living cells by any means other than his body's natural biological processes at a rate of roughly 3.6cm/sec from any damaged surface. There has been no observed limit to the amount that MY-1801-FJ can regenerate over a given period of time, however, he will stop regenerating should the total mass of all his non-degenerated tissue (both body parts and dead tissues yet to degenerate) exceed around twice his normal body weight. It is believed that MY-1801-FJ regenerative abilities are fuelled by his degenerated biomass, however, this has yet to be proven. [SUBJECT NOTE: Subjects regenerative abilities have been confirmed not to trigger as a result of suffocation, non-physical toxins or starvation, special clearance is required for further testing into these matters]. Privileges: * Stuffed Toy: A stuffed toy brought with MY-1801-FJ when he first entered the facility. * Educational Materials: MY-1801-FJ has been provided with standard educational materials and is scheduled for lessons with containment staff bi-weekly. * Desk: MY-1801-FJ has been provided with a desk and chair. [SUBJECT NOTE: Despite usually excellent subject corporation, MY-1801-FJ seems reluctant to request for anything by way of privileges].</s> <\|message\|>Seo-Ra Han (Seora) Seo-Ra Han [FR-2164-SRH] Interacting with: @Rabidporcupine@duskshine749 Location: Red Security Wards Hallway, Facility B --- She finally received an answer. Unless the other voice she had heard faintly in the distance, this one was much closer, and was a whole lot closer as it communicated in English. Trying her best to locate the owner of the voice, she turned and swiveled until she found her eyes on an extremely tall individual. The man's skin tone was considerably darker than hers, with a strong greyish hue to it. He stood more than double her height and was pretty much a giant in pretty much every single way. He was big. Big and muscular. If anything screamed giant warrior, this was pretty much it. Give him a giant club, and he was as close as one could possibly get to resembling one of the giant was one of the many fantasy novels she'd read before. The specifics were lost to her, but this much she knew. The messy medium length hair that topped his head was dark brown, and any attempts to figure out his race and nationality were unsuccessful. She'd also noticed that the clothing he wore was similar to hers, just a whole lot bigger to fit his giant frame. He also had the collar on his neck and the same red patch she had on her. If she maintained her gaze any longer at the giant, it would be impossible to deny that she was staring, but in her defense, there was no one else around and she was just glad to see someone else around at the moment. The answer to that came almost immediately, as another individual came in to join the moment. Just a while ago, there was none, and now there were two. It was so rather quickly how things have turned. The newcomer was also male, and taller than her, but nowhere as tall as the giant. In contrast, his skin was far fairer and paler than the both of them and his blue eyes were unmistakable. His nationality may not be known to her, but she knew that he was a Caucasian. The blue eyes were a dead giveaway. He asked the question to which all of them may have been wondering, and she shook her head to indicate she did not know anything about their current situation. "Unless any of you have a clue of what's happening, we should all go and find out."</s> <\|message\|>Malcolm @Symphoni The giant turned to greet the new arrival. He seemed normal enough, but if the little theory worming it's way into his head was correct, then it was exceedingly possible that this observation would be quite wrong. "Hey... Guy." He said, sending the guy a nod. After another giving him another quick look over, he nodded again, mumbling to himself. "Another red, huh?" As he did so, the man asked if either of them knew what was going on, to which the woman responded by saying that unless he or the guy who first asked had any idea, then they should get moving to find out. However, if his theory was anywhere even close to the truth, then he should definitely mention it now. If he didn't, then they might end up walking blindly into what could very well be an even more dangerous situation than the flickering lights and shit might suggest. "Uh, well, I'm not gonna pretend I know for certain, but I think I might have a theory... or something, I guess." He took a deep breath to steady himself, hoping that this wouldn't go over too badly. "Ok, so from what I can tell, this is some kind of... facility... I think. When I woke up, I was in a cell which I'm guessing was probably built for me, considering how big it was. It was also pretty well furnished, so I don't think it's an actual prison, or at least not a normal one. More like they were trying to encourage me to want to stay there. I'm pretty sure there was probably some way for them to stop me if I didn't though, but whatever, that's not the main point. My guess is this is some kind of facility meant to keep freaks like me here. Probably permanently." Ok, he was beating around the bush. He had to get to the point. "Ok, so it's obvious why I'm here, because... well, look at me. I'm not exactly blending into society any time soon. You guys though... Ok, I'm just gonna come out and ask. Please don't take this the wrong way, but do you guys also have something that makes you... I don't know, not entirely human?"</s> <\|message\|>Stephen Perth He didn't know what brought him back to reality. Perhaps his brain had finally cooled down from the drowsiness of sleep, and had decided that he had had enough of travelling in the dream world. Or it was the unusual air of emptiness that alarmed his body that something wasn't going accordingly. But regardless, the brown-haired man finally exited unconsciousness as he opened his eyes, back to an unfamiliar room. Bare white walls boxed his surroundings, which consisted of a modest desk, dresser, television and a treadmill. The pure simplicity and unbearable dullness of his surroundings soon geared the conclusion that he was in prison. That, and also the fact that... 'What's this bloody thing?' A circular object latched onto the skin of his neck. Its grip was annoyingly tight, but bearable. Who put this on him? Who dared to? And for what reasons? Questions led to another, in perfect accordance to the chain of causality, trying to find the simplest of answers to one of the questions, but as he approached the most basic of information, what he realized was that...he remembered nothing. Not even his name, his family, where he came from, or better yet what was the place he is currently in. His mind was eerily blank. This strange feeling, this definitely wasn't normal. How could he know nothing of anything? Was this supposed to be a dream? Was he still asleep? He lifted himself upright as he swung his legs around down onto the floor. The ice cold floor that made his feet cringe also made him realize that this was actually reality. He wasn't dreaming. He was now in some sort of prison, in a grey garment with a blue tag on it, and he had no idea what was going on. 'I need some water.' His throat was torturously dry from the deep sleep he had. With a quick swallow, he let out a cough for the throat to clear itself. A white puff of smoke suddenly rushed out of his mouth like a volcano. The sudden appearance of such anomaly made him shut his mouth immediately. It wasn't really smoke. A slap of his hand on the lingering cloud revealed that this was merely steam. A thick layer for sure. Oh yeah...his memories began to slowly recover. Just a little, enough to remember that he did possess this strange ability to create these weird harmless mist. Looking around the room, he also remembered the bonsai tree. Oh how he loved to look at it, watch the light go on and off. The hand exerciser and the treadmill, in which he remembered using. So there definitely was something that he remembered, that was for sure. Finally, he stood up, on planet Earth in what it felt like forever since. He'd probably need a bit of time before he could be perfectly active, but he wasn't willing to wait. His curiosity was itching him. And so he made his way to the opened door. Peeking his head slowly outside, he noticed two other men not too far from his location, talking about something. Oh good, they probably know better than he does right now. He waited until his presence caught their attention before saying his greetings. "Hello. Do you guys happen to know what is going on right now?" @ReedeThe23rd</s>	<\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ Even if he could no longer recall it the boy had spent the vast majority of his life in Facility B, to the point where even before he'd lost them his earliest memories were spent surrounded by various anomalous beings within Facility B's stark white halls. Consequently, the boy's idea of what could be considered normal had been stretched to an absolutely absurd degree, so much so that when the boy saw the shadowed figure step out from their room across the hall from him, the boy was neither frightened by its inhuman appearance, nor did he find it at all odd to see such an imposing figure holding such a cute plushie. In fact, in his own mind, the boy could find nothing out of the ordinary about the scene in front of him at all. No, instead what caused the boy to shrink away from the demonic-looking figure, was the sight of it waving at him, years of limited human interaction having conditioned the boy into being shy around those he was unfamiliar with. The boy averted his gaze, letting an awkward silence hang between the pair for several long moments as he fidgeted and tried to work out what to say. Finally, the boy looked back up at the shadowed figure and spoke, "Um… could you please tell me what's going on?", the boy asked, frowning for a moment before adding, "… I think I forgot?". Having asked his question, the boy's shyness subsided, if only a by little, as he stared at the shadowy figure with expectant, hopeful eyes and awaited a response. As needlessly awkward as he'd made the encounter the boy still felt rather pleased with himself for having successfully spoken to an unfamiliar human being, sensing that that was probably some kind of personal achievement for him.</s>
<\|description\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Age: 29 ID Number: MP-1834-JC Nationality: Multiple: Spain, United Kingdom Appearance: MP-1834-JC is a Hispanic male, measuring 169 cm and weighing 76 kg as of [VOID]. MP-1834-JC has curled brown hair down to his temples, brown eyes, and above-average musculature for his age. A red heart shape wrapped in green thorned vines is tattooed on his left upper arm, the vines specifically obscuring the heart across its horizontal center line. A knife is tattooed on to his right forearm, drawn to suggest it is piercing the flesh, complete with blood spilling on to and around the blade. The Spanish text "Bomba de Gasolina" (translating to English as "Petrol Pump" or "Gasoline Pump") is tattooed in Impact font on his abdomen in two separate lines; two black arrows point from either side of the word "Gasolina" toward his genitalia. Background: MP-1834-JC was born on the 8th of December, [VOID] in Ibiza Town on the Spanish island of Ibiza. At age 1, his family moved to the United Kingdom, taking residence in central London for work-related reasons. MP-1834-JC received average education and accommodation throughout his early life, but is noted to have been involved in gang activity as young as fifteen, and did not pursue education beyond A-levels, instead becoming further involved with the Hispanic gang [VOID] (see Acquisition). Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MP-1834-JC on [VOID] due to inter-gang violence against [VOID] (see Acquisition). He was apprehended shortly thereafter, putting up relatively little resistance due to [VOID], and initially contained as a Blue security threat, but was reassessed as a Purple security threat after [VOID] (see Addendum 1). Aggression against staff has notably increased since then, and MP-1834-JC refuses to clarify when he first became aware of his anomalous properties. Powers: Auto-Liquefaction \|\| MP-1834-JC is able to discorporate his body into an increasingly liquidous mass, described by the subject as a sensation of "melting". MP-1834-JC can fully discorporate into a flexible gel-like state over the course of forty five seconds, and into a water-like state over the course of ninety seconds, with selective control over which portions of his body discorporate first if desired; he experiences no apparent pain or harm from this process, and can reverse the discorporation at will, reverting to his standard appearance over the same timeframes as described above. MP-1834-JC loses muscular control as liquefaction increases, being notably impaired whilst partially molten and unable to move when fully liquefied, but retains sensory input and becomes increasingly able to alter his form regardless of bodily structure at greater levels of discorporation; greater discorporation also results in greater resilience to kinetic force, and small physical injuries can be erased through a process of partial dissolution and reformation, though severe injuries such as extensive burns and substantial head or neck trauma remain potentially life-threatening. Privileges: * Dresser, inside face oriented toward camera * Pull-up bar, bolted into floor next to dresser SECURITY NOTE: MP-1834-JC is noteworthy for being highly non-cooperative with staff as of [VOID], frequently refusing to participate in testing except under duress, and often citing his desire to escape Facility B. MP-1834-JC is not unsocial with fellow subjects, but is prone to sudden bursts of aggression with little apparent provocation, though he is aware that he lacks the ability to significantly harm any staff members without himself risking injury. Consequently, MP-1834-JC's privileges are highly restricted, and should be thoroughly examined for potential escape risks before being allowed.</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @Bartimaeus The alarm woke the girl as it did every morning, though as its sound warbled and petered off, she couldn't help but think that that was unusual and strange. What did it normally sound like though? Why couldn't she remember? For that matter, why couldn't she remember anything? She laid there in her bed for several minutes just trying to think backwards through her time here, her childhood, her family. All of it came up blank. What small pieces she could pull up were fairly vague. She remembered there being others who look like her. Sisters, maybe? Were they twins? Triplets? She remembered different figures who would come in after the alarm. Who were they? Finally she sat up and looked around the room. The walls were very plain, but it didn't look like a prison cell, if that's what this place was. She had a desk, a bookshelf full of books and a stack of puzzles on top. One puzzle sat partially finished on her desk along with a music box. She picked that up and gave it a wind, and as the music played she smiled. If she was a prisoner, she must be a pretty well behaved one to have been given this stuff. She spotted something else on the desk as well, a small note which read FY-2322-VAM. What did that mean? It must've been pretty important if she'd written it down. It felt familiar. Was it an identifier? Whatever it was, she decided to call herself Vam for now, until she could figure out what her name actually was. She could hear voices in the hallway. Someone else was here. Cautiously she crept towards the door and peeked out into the hall. The shadowy/inky figure there caught her a bit off guard, but she found she somehow wasn't afraid of the strange appearance, as if she was used to seeing that kind of thing. She didn't know who these two were or if she could trust them, but hiding in her room probably wouldn't do her much good, so hesitantly she approached them and gave them a wave.</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos A couple of things caught his attention. First, a yelp as he called out; and then, as he moved toward it with low, concerned muttering, another voice. Muffled, but clearly upset. Clearly wanting out. '...a'ight,' he quietly decided to himself, 'maybe I oughta check things out. They're prolly people like me, right?' "Like him." Immediately, he figured that was wrong. He had some way of working himself, sort of... something that wasn't normal. Right, that might be why he was here. And, for that reason, he figured he should keep that to himself until he had to show it off. But first, the source of the yelp. The door he was pretty sure it came from was open, anyway; stepping to up it, he pushed it open and leaned in, taking a look around the place. It had more stuff in it than where he'd woken up, anyway: dresser, desk, night light, a bookcase, the hell happened with him that meant he didn't have that? Why the fuck didn't he have a bookcase? Whatever motherfucker put him in that prison did him dirty, that was for damn sure! But, clearly there were toys, too, dolls and shit... was this- were there kids in here too? Was that lump under the blanket a little girl? Shit, he didn't want to be a babysitter for some toddler, and he sure as fuck didn't want to be in some place that kept fuckin' children in jail! ...he had a quick think about what to do next outside of the cell. Clearly, there was some reason he was here. If it was that, then maybe he wasn't wrong to start with: maybe this kid, and anyone else in here, also had that, or something like that. So... would the kid go anywhere if he just left them there? Probably not. Which meant he had to be babysit a toddler after all. Fuck him stupid. Sighing aggressively, he moved back into the room, pushing the door wide and leaning against it as he sort of went over what he needed to say. If everyone else was too scared to do anything, then he had to be the guy who made them do things. And for a scared little girl... 'Uh, look, kid,' he began awkwardly, 'I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not the sorta guy who'd hit a child or nothing, you hear?' Shit, this was dumb. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. 'So, err, you know. You need to come outta there, and, like... eh, como digo esto... you know, stuff needs doing, a'ight? And you need to help me out with that, I guess.' Yeah, he was no good with kids. He really wasn't going to be getting any awards for being a great dad here.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Purple Ward Last Recorded Interaction: @BCTheEntity --- As she laid there with the blanket over her head, danger raced through her thoughts. There weren't any specific dangers, the little girl being unable to come up with any, but ever new sound only fueled the fear she was feeling. What was initially just a startle grew more terrifying the longer she hid on the bed. The muffled cries for help from beyond the chamber door down the hall certainly didn't help. The person calling was just so far away that any words he might have cried were muffled into gibberish. More people were awaking since the pitiful alarm sounded through the halls, and the little girl had no idea what to make of it. After what felt like hours passed, the little girl took a peek from under the sheets. The door still loomed ajar, exposed for anyone who would wish to enter. Loose fibers from the blanket made it difficult enough to see if the dim lighting was still too bright. She quickly closed the small opening when she spotted the door moving. Someone had entered the room. Was it the person who called out before so aggressively? Or was it another stranger who wished her harm? Perhaps it was a savior. She did not dare to take another peek lest she give away her position. She clenched when the door reached its limit creaking under the weight of someone leaning against it. She waited for something to happen when the entity that occupied the same room as her began to speak. She opened her eyes. The man's tone of voice was not angry or murderous. It wasn't exactly that of a gentle mother or father, but it matched the words being spoken. When the man ended his attempted dialog of solace, the girl sat up with the blanket pushed away. He seemed genuine about not wanting to hurt her. The little girl relaxed. The man needed help, and she was not sure what she could do, but there seemed to be some trouble, and at the very least, this man was not it. She slid off the bed, and slowly walked up to the man. "I'll help." She said quickly, and clenching her hands together. "I'm sorry I ran. I I didn't know who you were. I don't um…" the little girl swayed a little side to side almost like she was having second thoughts. She still had no idea who this man was. Just a moment ago she was hiding from him like her life depended on it. Not only that, but her memories of basically anything relevant to her situation, or even anything before that eluded her as well. She frowned and then looked back up at the man. "I'll help however I can, but do you know where I am? I can't remember anything."</s>	<\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos So she didn't remember anything either? Figures. He'd remember if he'd ever met a little girl. But then, if he didn't remember her... fuck, weird memory shit was stupid as hell. And it kind of occurred to him that he might be in trouble if he started throwing out swears around the kid, too. Damn. 'Yeah, you and me both,' he shrugged, grimacing. 'I guess we'll have to figure out what's up. First... well, come out in the corridor with me. Take any toys you want, too, I guess.' Motioning for her to follow along, he stepped back out, trying to remember where he'd heard that other voice calling from... was it a fair distance away? Maybe? Shit. And then there were a bunch of other cells... 'Alright, kid, you're gonna need to trust me on this,' he said to her, trying to sound sort of reasonable, 'but I'm gonna go check out where that other voice came from. In the meantime, you look in the other ce- rooms, and see if there's anybody who hasn't come out yet, okay? And... uh... if something tries to get you, you run back to me? Sound like a plan?' The correction about the cells was something he probably didn't need to do, but then if this was a prison, the kid didn't need to know it. Nor did she need to think he was immediately abandoning her. He wasn't some crazy who left kids to die... he didn't think he was, anyway. Had he said "something" earlier? No, that would've scared her, he must've said "somebody"... yeah, that sounded right. "If somebody tries to get you", and so on. Once she'd agreed to that- or hell, if she clung to him like a scared puppy, he wasn't going to handhold her through all of this- he'd start walking off, trying to find where that voice had called out from earlier. If he was right, it was a little ways away... and sure enough, he eventually found a door that was for some reason still closed, and clearly containing somebody who was trying his damndest to get out. 'Ay, mate,' he called through the door, tapping on it to make sure he got the guy's attention. From the glass window looking in, he seemed like... well, a bit of a skinny weirdo. Bicho raro flaco. 'You, uh, need some help? You look like yer stuck in there.'</s>
<\|description\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Age: 29 ID Number: MP-1834-JC Nationality: Multiple: Spain, United Kingdom Appearance: MP-1834-JC is a Hispanic male, measuring 169 cm and weighing 76 kg as of [VOID]. MP-1834-JC has curled brown hair down to his temples, brown eyes, and above-average musculature for his age. A red heart shape wrapped in green thorned vines is tattooed on his left upper arm, the vines specifically obscuring the heart across its horizontal center line. A knife is tattooed on to his right forearm, drawn to suggest it is piercing the flesh, complete with blood spilling on to and around the blade. The Spanish text "Bomba de Gasolina" (translating to English as "Petrol Pump" or "Gasoline Pump") is tattooed in Impact font on his abdomen in two separate lines; two black arrows point from either side of the word "Gasolina" toward his genitalia. Background: MP-1834-JC was born on the 8th of December, [VOID] in Ibiza Town on the Spanish island of Ibiza. At age 1, his family moved to the United Kingdom, taking residence in central London for work-related reasons. MP-1834-JC received average education and accommodation throughout his early life, but is noted to have been involved in gang activity as young as fifteen, and did not pursue education beyond A-levels, instead becoming further involved with the Hispanic gang [VOID] (see Acquisition). Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MP-1834-JC on [VOID] due to inter-gang violence against [VOID] (see Acquisition). He was apprehended shortly thereafter, putting up relatively little resistance due to [VOID], and initially contained as a Blue security threat, but was reassessed as a Purple security threat after [VOID] (see Addendum 1). Aggression against staff has notably increased since then, and MP-1834-JC refuses to clarify when he first became aware of his anomalous properties. Powers: Auto-Liquefaction \|\| MP-1834-JC is able to discorporate his body into an increasingly liquidous mass, described by the subject as a sensation of "melting". MP-1834-JC can fully discorporate into a flexible gel-like state over the course of forty five seconds, and into a water-like state over the course of ninety seconds, with selective control over which portions of his body discorporate first if desired; he experiences no apparent pain or harm from this process, and can reverse the discorporation at will, reverting to his standard appearance over the same timeframes as described above. MP-1834-JC loses muscular control as liquefaction increases, being notably impaired whilst partially molten and unable to move when fully liquefied, but retains sensory input and becomes increasingly able to alter his form regardless of bodily structure at greater levels of discorporation; greater discorporation also results in greater resilience to kinetic force, and small physical injuries can be erased through a process of partial dissolution and reformation, though severe injuries such as extensive burns and substantial head or neck trauma remain potentially life-threatening. Privileges: * Dresser, inside face oriented toward camera * Pull-up bar, bolted into floor next to dresser SECURITY NOTE: MP-1834-JC is noteworthy for being highly non-cooperative with staff as of [VOID], frequently refusing to participate in testing except under duress, and often citing his desire to escape Facility B. MP-1834-JC is not unsocial with fellow subjects, but is prone to sudden bursts of aggression with little apparent provocation, though he is aware that he lacks the ability to significantly harm any staff members without himself risking injury. Consequently, MP-1834-JC's privileges are highly restricted, and should be thoroughly examined for potential escape risks before being allowed.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @AelitaJezebelle@randomness Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- The one who had touched him moved in front of him, but surprisingly nothing more came of it than the sound of a gentle, reassuring voice. Once again, a voice very different from the whispers. ...'Once again'? Uncertainly, the young man slowly lowered the meager shield of limbs he had created for himself, still hazy eyes staring out in confusion past them into a pair of blue ones. These ones did not feel as familiar as the brown ones from before... However, as his gaze flickered haltingly around, he somehow did feel less as though it -whatever it was- had him. But everything was no less wrong. The blue eyes took his hand and told him to come with them... Them? No, it was... a woman, wasn't it? A woman with blue eyes... Why had he thought....? No, what had he thought, again? ...She was telling him to go with her, so surely that was right. Yes, he allowed her to lead him away, just as they always did... they... Yet it felt early, somehow, for that. Didn't it? Wasn't there something that he was supposed to do first? Something... something... The man, the eating man, came into view again, and all at once the awful red came rushing back to him. The blue eyes were leading his body away, down an ever-lengthening tunnel and gradually pulling further and further away from him. Leaving him alone, drawn deeper and deeper into the red. Spiraling slowly down, down, sinking, sucked down toward the cracks below the surface... The whispers were getting loud again. Another touch on his other hand drew him sharply back out, and he might have flinched again had it not been accompanied by the return of the small voice. Well, he gave a much lesser flinch, at least. Looking down, he saw those brown eyes. They matched the blue ones more now, but at least he remembered they were real. They were both real, right? The girl and the woman... ...Weren't they? He hadn't much noticed what she'd said, but neither could he see the red anymore from the direction he was facing, and that was an improvement. In its place, however, were the two clearest thoughts he could remember having yet. The first was the realization that for a moment he'd nearly lost what little of himself he had to spare. This thought swiftly wavered and drifted away, as all other thoughts had up to that point. However, the second and far more unsettling of the two was a lingering one. One which he did not fully understand, yet which filled him with a resurgence of that deep sense of dread. Enough to lead him to staggering unstably as words so clear they hardly seemed like his own cut through the fog of his mind. 'That was close.'</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @Lady Selune@Nyxira The young girl talking to her caught her attention, and she smiled down at her, "Oh? My name?...Well...I actually don't remember my name. I saw a paper in my room that had VAM on it though that looked like some sort of identification, so I suppose you can call me Vam. Dolly's a nice name. It's nice to meet you." Staying in this gore-filled room didn't sound like something she was particularly excited about. If Dolly wanted to stay though, she would. She may not really know the girl, but she was only a child, and she felt obligated to protect her. This guy everyone kept calling Dougie too. He clearly wasn't all here right now, so she felt obligated to protect him too. She watched as the tables were flipped over. It was a relief not to have to keep looking at the bodies, especially for the children not to have to look at them. Though she didn't say anything out loud, internally she was grateful to Adelina for that. She thought for a moment about getting some food for her and her little group, but movement from the man at the table caught her attention. He was writing something, it seemed? She took Dougie's hand again and walked over to see what it was. It made her feel sick to watch him writing with his own blood though, and what he said didn't make it much better. "She...Oh, that's awful!" He must've been in such pain before then! No wonder he'd been eating so messily and wincing. "...How did you avoid...this fate?" she asked, motioning to the carnage around them, "Having your tongue ripped out is awful! I'm sorry that happened, but it seems you somehow avoided worse." She looked around the room for any sort of paper or writing instruments. Surely they could find the guy some better method of communication than his own blood.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Cafeteria Last Recorded Interaction: @AelitaJezebelle@Nyxira@BCTheEntity@duskshine749 --- Dolly sat at the table Blade was laying down the food at. She gave a small smile to Vam and Dougie as they stood nearby, quickly turning her attention again to the food. As she watched, her stomach growled. It was simple cereal and milk, but that didn't matter to Dolly. Dolly grabbed a couple of the bowls and started to pour the cereal for the three of them as Blade looked elsewhere. As she was preparing her meal, some odd sounds came from behind by the other row of tables. Dolly suspected that perhaps someone was choking on their food. Blade's reaction quickly squashed that idea. Dolly's eyes followed Blade as he went over to investigate what was going on. She saw Vam had joined him along with Dougie. Dolly spun around in her chair now more curious as to what was going on. Right then, Blade had called out, beckoning her to join him. Blade called out wanting to know if anyone was sporting a red triangle upon their shirt. She hopped from her seat and joined Blade over by the lone man. Standing next to Blade with the other figure at the table, Dolly noticed the writing upon the mostly clear white surface. Her face scrunched upon reading the sloppy writing. She couldn't help but feel sad for the lone man. She could not imagine what it would be like to lose your tongue, let alone how painful. But the writing also mentioned the red triangle. Dolly didn't give much thought to the clothes she was wearing. Outside of the bands and collar, that is. Did the patches mean anything? Dolly took a look at her blouse, and then up at Blade. She had a purple square as did Blade. Dolly looked at the others. Vam had spoken with Mute and then left in search of something, so Dolly couldn't see her shirt. As for Dougie, he had a… well, Dolly couldn't quite tell if Dougie had a patch. His sweatshirt covered most of his torso and upper body. "Excuse me." Dolly said quietly as she scooted up to him. He still seemed unaware, lost in his own eyes. Whatever he could be thinking eluded Dolly, but she felt that he was perhaps uncomfortable with the situation. Dolly certainly was. As softly as she could, Dolly pulled the collar of Dougie's hoodie to the side, just enough to look at the patch on his shirt. It was also a purple square. "Um, me and Dougie have purple squares." Said Dolly. She fixed Dougie's hoodie as gently as she could, turning around again to face Blade. "Are there other colors?" Just as she asked the question, someone spoke up. Dolly spun around Blade waited for more answers. She watched as a man from one of the other tables came over. It was one of the first people who had entered the cafeteria, and who had come from one of the other halls by himself. He did have a red patch on his shirt, but it was also a square, not a triangle. "But it's not a triangle." Said Dolly thoughtlessly looking up at the man calling himself Red. She wasn't sure of the significance, Red only had one similarity to the figure Mute described. Even so, Dolly was growing increasingly nervous, but she tried her best to hide it. Everyone was here, so there was safety in numbers. Dolly quickly averted her gaze and left the three of them to discuss it. Dolly had moved over to near where the one who threw Blade sat against one of the flipped tables. The boy who Dolly followed in was also with her. They had yellow squares on their shirts. Dolly had absolutely no idea what they meant, but now she knew that the colors had to have meant something. What she was able to figure out at least was that everyone from the same hall had the same colors. All the yellow patches showed up together. She and the others from her hall had purple, and Red was by himself. Dolly walked back up next to blade. "I couldn't find any other red ones. They're all squares. No triangles."</s>	<\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos Blade Well, Dolly soundly answered his question, after pouring the cereal and milk and going around looking. Nobody here had a triangle - all squares, including his and Mute's, but they were each squares of different colours. Weird... maybe a triangle meant they were less smart or something? 'Like animals...' he murmured to himself, taking another spoonful of his breakfast. Nice of her to deal with that for the three purples; he made sure to give her a pat on the head for the good work, both investigating and breakfasting. Everyone else seemed occupied - except for Druggie Dougie. He'd stumbled a bit and made some weird groan a few moments before Dolly got back, one of the few noises he'd made up to that point. But why? Was it the blood? If it was anything like with Dolly freaking out before... Whatever. He looked a little more in-there than he had, anyway. Just in case, though, Blade called out 'Ay, Dougie, you back in the real world yet? Your cereal's getting soggy,' trying to get his attention on to the cereal. Fucker needed to eat, too, even if he was having a crash. Heh, he probably had the munchies going, at that.</s>
<\|description\|>Jean De Merwe Age: 25 Years ID Number: MB-1896-JDM Nationality: South African Appearance: MB-1896-JDM is a Caucasian male, measuring 184cm and weighing 153 lbs as of [VOID]. MB-1896-JDM has black hair that falls just above his shoulders, as well as facial hair growing as stubbles both below the nose and above the jawline. MB-1896-JDM has minor scars along his hands and arms as well as dark brown eyes, but otherwise no distinguishing features. MB-1896-JDM wears male clothing. Background: MB-1896-JDM was born on the 25th of February, [VOID] in Lindley, Free State. MB-1896-JDM's early childhood consisted of working on his family's farm with his two elder brothers while also attending the local primary school, living close to the poverty line for most of his life. MB-1896-JDM is currently unsure of when his anomalous nature manifested, claiming to have had it for as long as he could remember, with apparent success controlling his anomalous properties. MB-1896-JDM spent his high school years in a boarding school located in Pretoria and attended [VOID] on a scholarship after graduating and earned a degree in journalism. MB-1896-JDM's anomalous nature remained hidden throughout his education. He is unmarried and doesn't have any children. Anomalous Containment Staff were made aware of MB-1896-JDM on [VOID] during an incident where [VOID] (See Addendum 3.) MB-1896-JDM fully resisted staff throughout his transportation to Facility B, going out of his way to be difficult. Subject has made a total of two escape attempts thus far, both after a period of compliance. Powers: MB-1896-JDM heals exponentially faster than an average human, the time it takes his injuries to heal varies between a few minutes up to three days depending on the severity of the injury. Furthermore he has the ability to heal the wounds of others by transferring them to himself. Wounds can also be transferred from him unto others. His ability relies on skin to skin contact [SUBJECT NOTE: ENSURE TO NEVER MAKE ANY SKIN-TO-SKIN CONTACT WITH THE SUBJECT]. Ability also extends to minor illnesses such as the common cold, it has yet to be seen what effect it has on major diseases. Using the ability for anything other than minor injuries requires a lot of energy from the subject, resulting in a required resting period that varies in lenght depending on energy used. Privileges: Esure objects can't be used to cause harm. * Flashlight * Two journals * Small bookshelf * 17 books, including, but not limited to, 'Die Buiter' series, Lord of the Rings and 'Koning van Katoren'. * Writing supplies</s> <\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ A young boy awoke sprawled out face-first atop a cheap wire mesh bed. In spite of his uncomfortable resting position, the boy wore a peaceful expression as he attempted to settle himself back into sleep, only for the piercing sound of an alarm to ring out from somewhere outside, its ringing wrenching him from his serenity and into wakefulness. Almost as if on cue the boy's stomach growled, urging him to get up and ready. Wait who? And ready for what? Visibly confused the boy sat up rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, feeling something was off as he noticed the lighting flickered eerily. "Huh? What's going on?", he mumbled to himself, taking a moment to look around the room, surprisingly plain and sparsely furnished for a kid of his age, with little more than a cheap desk and bed. Stranger still was that the room he found himself in seemed entirely unfamiliar to the kid, his frustration and confusion only growing as he tried to search his memories for answers and came up with nothing but haze. Getting up the boy examined himself as best he could in the current conditions, taking note of his surprisingly long black hair and the simple grey dress he wore, entirely devoid of colour save for a single yellow patch. Like everything else he'd encountered since waking up, the boy found even his own appearance strangely unfamiliar and alien. Was that normal? It didn't feel like it… Eventually, with the last of his grogginess overtaken by his confusion, worry and now gradually mounting curiosity, the boy looked towards the door. Maybe there was someone outside who could tell him what was going on or maybe where he was? That seemed pretty likely and it wouldn't hurt to try and find something to eat in the meantime… With that in mind, the boy approached the door, peeking out before tentatively stepping into the space beyond. "Hello? Is anybody there?"</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos The alarm that woke him up was much less of an alarm, and much more of a whinge. Which might be why he didn't immediately react to it. He finally got his eyes open after an extra minute or two, muttering 'Ai, hijo de puta, ¿qué demonios está pasando...?' and blearily shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs and the lingering feeling that something might be wrong after all. Or, at least, different from usual. ...those cobwebs were taking their sweet time getting out. He was almost having a hard time recalling what "usual" was - but given the fact he was in an empty white room, wearing a uniform grey outfit with a swatch of purple on the chest, complete with collars round his neck and wrists, with little but a pull-up bar and dresser in sight- oh, and a camera in one corner... yeah, this was probably a prison. He- What was he in here for? He should know that if he was in prison. And what kind of prison put big old collars and shit round the prisoner's necks? ...what was his name again? 'Ah, shit. It's one of those fuckin' situations.' Not that he could remember what "those fuckin' situations" typically were, but for some reason, it seemed likely that this was one of them. Huffing grumpily, he rolled out of the minimalist bed, checking the uniform he had on again - no name, not number, nothing to say what he was called even as he knew he ought to be called out for it about now - and checked the rest of the room. There was nothing fancy about it, no seams or hidden doors he could take note of, though the main door was clearly open anyway. So, out he went, pushing the heavy slab of rubber-edged steel aside so he could get past. Outside was about as bland as inside. Only difference was, it was a white corridor lined with more doors, instead of a white room. And it wasn't lit very well. All the lights were freaking out, for some reason. Seriously, this was a prison, right? He was pretty sure he knew a prison when he saw one, though he wasn't exactly sure what that meant. Clearly, he wasn't the only prisoner, though... were there normally people to look after the prisoners? And if there were, where were those guys? 'Ay, anyone 'round?' he yelled, wandering down the corridor a bit towards where it... felt, he guessed, like he'd normally need to go. 'If anyone wants to tell me what the fuck's happening, now's the time.' He couldn't help but take note of his voice as he spoke - he assumed it was something related to his skin tone, but he also realised that what he was speaking right now had not been the same as what he'd been speaking when he first woke up. Spitting out a few words in that first language, he was relieved that he at least hadn't lost his ability to speak it, and kept track of where it was different as he muttered to himself. It was, overall, more fluid than the rougher, slouchier tone he had with his second language, as though it wanted to flow more, but it almost seemed angrier as a result? Weird, real weird.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David A sudden sharp sound echoed throughout the room before it suddenly lost life and continued on as a whimper before finally dying completely. The sound was distorted, only a pitiful excuse of what it usually was. Nevertheless, it was enough to stir the little girl from sleep. Slowly opening her eyes, the girl sat up in her bed, the covers sliding off her body. She yawned and rubbed her eyes before looking around her room. Her room? It was a room. And it was a room she occupied. But nothing in it resembled anything she would call hers. In fact, she could not recall what would normally be hers in the first place. Now more awake, the little girl called out. Much like the alarm, her call was barely audible outside the room. Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, the girl looked about the room again. There were few child furnishings, but otherwise the room was bare and dull. Several cameras near the corners of the ceiling faced towards the ground, seemingly without power. At the far side of the room stood an open door, facing an equally blank white wall of the corridor beyond. Not much light illuminated the wall, leaving most of what laid beyond too dark to see. Sliding off the bed, the girl cringed as her bare feet touched the cold concrete floor. Next to the bed were a pair of basic grey shoes without laces. She grabbed them to put on. She stopped initially when she saw the bands around her wrists. Sitting back on the bed, the girl looked at them, and tried to take them off unsuccessfully. She now took notice of the rest of her attire. She was dressed in a simple one-piece dress, grey matching the dull atmosphere of rest of the room. She placed her hands upon the collar around her neck, just as irremovable as the bracelets. Not even recognizing her own clothes anymore, the girl was growing increasingly fearful about where she was or what was going on. She wanted to find a safe place to hide until she could find someone who could help her. Jumping off the bed again, she put on the shoes and creeped to the entrance of the door. It was open, so she could perhaps flee from the captors that held her. She looked out the entrance, seeing the hall was clear in one direction. Before she turned to look the other way, she heard someone call out. The voice was aggressive and it startled the little girl. She yelped and not so quietly ran back into the room diving into the bed and covered herself up. The little girl didn't see who call out, flickering lights and the darkness that it brought helping with that. Perhaps the figure who yelled would pass by and not harm the girl.</s>	<\|message\|>Jean De Merwe It was the blaring of a warbling alarm that drew him back to consciousness with a muttered curse. Rolling over, he tried to ignored it, but as it continued on and sleep was wrenched further and further from him, a sense of...wrongness settled in with each warble. Was it supposed to sound like that? Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groaning as the alarm continued its assault on his ears. "Het daardie vervlakste ding geen einde nie!" Opening his eyes to glare at his surroundings, he was met by the sight of a plain, white room, empty of all but some writing supplies and a tiny flashlight on top of a small bookshelf next to the bed. There couldn't be more than twenty books, a meager excuse of a collection if there ever was one. His apparel wasn't very reassuring either. Grey trousers and shirt with a blue patch on the chest and... WAS HE WEARING A COLLAR?! THE HELL?!! What was going on? Where was this place? It sure wasn't home, that much he knew! Then again...he wasn't exactly sure where that was either... A sickening feeling started to settle in his gut as he attempted to backtrack. Trying to recall anything from his past, his home, his family, his name...he was met only with failure. Head falling into his hands, he allowed himself one minute to mutter every curse in his vocabulary before forcing himself to get it together just as the alarm finally squeaked to a stop. The silence that followed was both eerie and a relief at the same time. Not about to waste any longer on just sitting around, he stood up. Sparing a quick glance at the open door, he made his way to the bookcase. He might as well take stock of his immediate surroundings before heading into even less known territory. The writing supplies proved to be disappointing, seeing as there weren't any pens and the pencils were made out of rubber - a pain for anyone to write with. The lights flickered and he grabbed the flashlight, it may be small with limited range, but it was better than nothing. That just left the books. "Lord of the rings, Koning van Katoren, a world atlas, die nege Buiter boeke, Sense and sensibility, drie Shakespeare's en Terry Pratchett se Mort...well, quality over quantity en als..." Reaching out, he stroked the backs of the books softly. He may not be able to remember his name, but he knew these books, loved each one of them, a clear sign of their importance to him. Fingers landing of one of two unmarked books, he pulled it out and opened it. It appeared to be a journal, the handwriting painfully familiar (his own, maybe?), but the dialect in which it was written... He couldn't place it. He recognized some words and letters, but most of it, while familiar, escaped him. He did see a doodle of what appeared to be a person getting stabbed with a pencil(?) that might explain the rubber, but he couldn't be sure. Not seeing anything else of note, he took a step towards the room's only exit, glanced at the ominous flickering of the lights and the atlas joined the flashlight in his hands. It might just be a book, but it was big and could hit hard, which was better than nothing. "Ek sweer, as een of ander bleddie ongedierte iewers uitspring, gaan ek iemand iets aandoen." Stepping outside, he glanced around the hall. The lights flickered and silence surrounded him. Holding the book at the ready, he started walking down. "Hallo, enigiemand daar? Anybody there?" Hopefully he'll find the exit soon as well as some answers as to what the hell was going on...</s>
<\|description\|>Malcolm Age: Estimated to be somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. Lack of memories makes exact identification difficult. ID Number: MR-2242-M Nationality: MR-2242-M identifies as Canadian, as this is where his memories first begin. True nationality is currently unknown. Appearance: MR-2242-M is a young man of undetermined race, standing at 9'8" and weighing approximately 400 lb. Subject has tan skin, although with a very strong grey tint, and medium length, messy dark brown hair. Subjects eyes are light brown. Subject seems to be extremely fit at any given time despite limited exercise, likely due to any and all fat being consumed through his abilities. Face has seemingly permanent stubble, growing back quickly even when shaved, but slowing exponentially before it can grow longer. Background: Unfortunately, MR-2242-M doesn't actually remember much of anything in terms of his past, or even his original name. His memories start about three and a half years ago, just a few days before his capture by the Facility. Even then, the majority of those memories were of him hiding out in the forest, after his one and only attempt to venture into a town caused the inhabitants to panic. He also has little memory of his capture. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a cave he had claimed for himself, and when he woke up, he was in the room he would come to call home for the next three and a half years. Early on, he was questioned many times and subjected to hundreds upon hundreds of tests, trying to determine his abilities and whether any of his memories remained. When the results proved that none did, his treatment improved drastically, although he is still regularly reminded to inform Facility personnel if he should begin to notice any animalistic impulses, or any faint memories should start to emerge once more. Powers: MR-2242-M is a powerful shapeshifter, able to incorporate the genetic information of any creature whose meat he has eaten into his own and either alter his own physiology to match it or grow it out of his body as an extra body part. For example, he can alter his sense of smell by replicating the olfactory system of a bear or change sections of his skin to the armoured exoskeleton of a crab, or he could grow wings or tentacles out of any part of his body. He can also grow extra body parts out of these new body parts, allowing for some extremely versatile mutations. This involves mass generation of cells at an extremely rapid pace, using up lipids from the food he eats. This also gives him the additional ability to regenerate from a number of injuries that would otherwise leave him maimed or dead, as long as he has eaten enough to provide the necessary lipids. Privileges: [SECURITY NOTE; MR-2242-M IS TO BE LIMITED TO A LARGELY LOW FAT VEGAN DIET IN ORDER TO LIMIT LIPID DEVELOPMENT. IF SUBJECT MAINTAINS GOOD BEHAVIOR, HE MAY BE ALLOWED ONE LOW FAT MEAT BASED MEAL A WEEK, SUCH AS CHICKEN OR WHITE FISH] * Large Desk * Dresser with size adjusted subject clothing * Size appropriate writing equipment * Three large journals, more to be added when full * Bookshelf * A number of young adult novels * Small television set with a DVD player * Various animated movies and television series on DVD [SECURITY NOTE; FILMS DEPICTING HUMAN NATURE AS VILLAINOUS OR IN AN OTHERWISE NEGATIVE LIGHT ARE PROHIBITED]</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord Location: Personal Containment Cell [Yellow ward] --- --- His eyes snapped open as the sound of an alarm met his ears. But it was still dark. Feeling a hint of panic, the boy tried to strain his eyes, reaching up and touching his face - before realizing he had a sleepmask over his eyes; he slipped it up onto his forehead. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking as the warbling cacophony interrupted the rushing thoughts of his freshly awoken consciousness. He turned his head to the left as he laid flat on his back upon his bed, seeing now that he was in a stark white room, with very little decorating its interior. Where was he? He tried to recall how he got into this room, to no avail. He pushed his arm against the bed, propping himself up so he could get a better view of his surroundings. Except, there was something off. He looked at his arm, and his heart jumped. He swatted at his arm with his other, pushing himself back against the corner his bed was situated into, only to see that his other hand was covered in an inky black material as well. He tried to shout as he attempted to smack and claw the blackness away from his body, only to find himself accomplishing nothing - he couldn't speak. His silent breath was ragged as he held his arms out in front of him, away from his body as he tried to distance himself from this ichor intrusion that he found attached to him body. He found himself noiselessly hyperventilating as he stared at the wisps curling and slowly crawling around the blackness of his arm as his knees pressed against his chest. He looked at the backs of his hands for what seemed like forever, until he heard the wails of the alarm die down. He moved his finger, slowly. It moved as he willed it. He tried to close his hand. It became a fist. He joined his hands together. The touch was dull, but he could feel it nonetheless. W-what...is going on.. The boy moved his hands to the bed and pushed himself off, landing lightly next to it. He looked down, and his feet were also covered in the inky blackness as his arms were. He reached up and pulled at his shirt - underneath it, more shadow. It sent chills up his spine. It didn't feel uncomfortable - in fact he felt physically well - but it...didn't seem normal. And he couldn't remember how this stuff had got all over him. He paused as the lights flickered. Was there some sort of power outage? Speaking of his clothes - whose were these? Not his, surely. And-- He looked at his hands again - they had squarish, metallic bracelets on them. Why? There was one on his neck too. His eyes scanned the room, one thing in particular catching his eye. Upon the nearby desk there was a plushie. A stuffed dog. He grabbed it - it was pretty, and made him slightly more comfortable just holding it. He clutched it under his arm. The boy looked towards the only exit to the room, an open doorway with the door shuttered into the wall. This place was so completely foreign. He tentatively stepped towards the door, feeling his hands quiver as he did. He tried to control his breathing, but it was difficult. He stopped just before reaching the doorway, tentatively putting a hand on the doorframe as his other clutched the dog. And then he heard a voice. "Hello? Is anybody there?" It was a young voice. He hesitated, before making himself peek out in the direction of the voice. There was the stark white hall - and there was a boy. A very young boy. Why was here? Where were all the other people? He slowly, hesitantly, stepped out of the doorway and into the hall facing the boy, the dog plushie clutched tightly under his shadowy arm as his left held onto the doorway. He tried to speak out to him - but yet again to no avail. He couldn't talk. He took hesitant steps towards the boy as he held his hand up in an awkward wave.</s> <\|message\|>Seo-Ra Han (Seora) Seo-Ra Han [FR-2164-SRH] Like many contained in the cells of Facility B, the young woman found herself awake by the sound of warbling alarms and sirens. Upon waking from her slumber, strangely enough, she had no memory of who she was, and where exactly she was and what she was doing in this strange place. The red light of the camera that was strategically place to provide an unobstructed view of her no longer had the glowing red eye that signified that it was on. Among the flickering lights, the woman noticed that her room was filled with a variety of sprinklers, as though a fire might break out at any moment. Feeling something heavy at her holding her head down, her hands found themselves grabbing onto a metal collar worn at her neck. What was this for? Was this supposed to keep her contained? Was she a dangerous person? The alarms and sirens soon abruptly stopped, replaced by the eerie silence of the building, with the flickering bzzt of the lights as they switched from the usual full powered mode to emergency power. A quick glance around saw her in a room with a small amount of furniture that she must have been quite fortunate to have the luxury to possess. Whatever she did, she must have had some luck to not be in an empty cell like most prisoners. She had to be a prisoner, what else could explain the nondescript gown she currently wore, and the thick metal collar around her neck? There was no other logical explanation. The woman spoke for the first time among the eerie silence. "안녕하세요?" No answer came back to greet back. Walking out of the emptiness that used to be occupied by her cell door, the woman stepped out into the hallway, repeating her words once again. "안녕하세요 누구 있어요? [annyeonghaseyo nugu iss-eoyo?]" A few minutes would pass before she would repeat once more, this time in English. "Hello? Is anyone there?" This time she heard something, her ears straining to pick up on the sound. She had no idea if that was directed at her. It was a voice, faint and somewhere in the distance, that she couldn't quite make out. It confirmed something for her. She wasn't alone. There were still people out there, and her gut told her that the answer she sought for her current situation would likely be found in the company of others, what with her recent memory being non-existent and all.[/b]</s>	<\|message\|>Malcolm The young man blinked awake as the alarm began, trying to figure out just what was going on. Despite not recognizing it, he still somehow felt that the room was kind of familiar. A couple of seconds later, he decided he was extremely grateful of that fact, as he realised that he couldn't even remember his own name. "I guess I should just be glad I remember how to speak english..." Taking a closer look around the room, he had to say that most of it seemed relatively normal. There was a nice big mirror, a bed, a desk, a dresser filled with clothes identical to what he was currently wearing apart from the collar around his neck, which he would concede as one of the first things to tip him off that something wasn't quite right apart from the alarms, which was obviously strange as well. There were a few other things that really sealed the deal, or wait, maybe it just counted as one thing. That thing, or those things depending on how you decided to look at it, was that no matter how he looked at it, the TV that sat in the corner of his room was just too damn small. The same could be said for the bookshelf, filled with novels that he was pretty sure could probably fit in the palm of his hand with little to no trouble. And, perhaps most importantly, the door into the room was maybe a little under two thirds of his height at best. No matter what he told himself, there was no way he could justify that. True, he couldn't remember anything about himself or his situation, but he was like, seventy percent sure that a door would usually be tall enough for people to get through without squatting. And then he was distracted by a loud growl. Thankfully though, the feeling that accompanied it meant that he didn't have as much to fear as something deep down in the back of his mind told him he otherwise should have. "I'm really hungry." Turning to the mirror, he did a quick double take as he noticed something else which he was pretty sure wasn't especially normal, in that much like the uniform he was wearing, his skin also held a distinctly grey shade. He considered taking more time to ponder this latest development, which he was pretty damn sure was definitely out of the ordinary, but another growl of protest from his stomach reminded him that he had a matter that may not be objectively more pressing, but certainly felt that way to him. And so he opened the door and ducked to get through, although apparently not low enough if the sudden pain in his forehead was any indication. Thankfully though, once he'd clambered through he found himself in a nice normal-sized hallway, colored the same sterile white as his room if the flickering lights weren't playing tricks on him. No sooner had he made it out though that he heard a woman's voice, calling out in a language he thought he recognized somewhat but couldn't quite manage to understand. The woman repeated herself a few times, before eventually switching to english to his relief. "Yeah." He called out in response when the woman asked if anyone was around. "I'm here." He made his way towards the area he thought the voice was coming from, before eventually finding a woman who appeared to be... well, he wasn't fully sure where she was from specifically, but he was going to take a wild guess at it being somewhere in Asia, and he noted that she was dressed pretty much exactly the same as he was, right down to the collar and red patch. Another thing he noted was that she was maybe half his height at most. "You know what?" He asked no one in particular. "This might actually explain a lot."</s>
<\|description\|>Malcolm Age: Estimated to be somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. Lack of memories makes exact identification difficult. ID Number: MR-2242-M Nationality: MR-2242-M identifies as Canadian, as this is where his memories first begin. True nationality is currently unknown. Appearance: MR-2242-M is a young man of undetermined race, standing at 9'8" and weighing approximately 400 lb. Subject has tan skin, although with a very strong grey tint, and medium length, messy dark brown hair. Subjects eyes are light brown. Subject seems to be extremely fit at any given time despite limited exercise, likely due to any and all fat being consumed through his abilities. Face has seemingly permanent stubble, growing back quickly even when shaved, but slowing exponentially before it can grow longer. Background: Unfortunately, MR-2242-M doesn't actually remember much of anything in terms of his past, or even his original name. His memories start about three and a half years ago, just a few days before his capture by the Facility. Even then, the majority of those memories were of him hiding out in the forest, after his one and only attempt to venture into a town caused the inhabitants to panic. He also has little memory of his capture. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a cave he had claimed for himself, and when he woke up, he was in the room he would come to call home for the next three and a half years. Early on, he was questioned many times and subjected to hundreds upon hundreds of tests, trying to determine his abilities and whether any of his memories remained. When the results proved that none did, his treatment improved drastically, although he is still regularly reminded to inform Facility personnel if he should begin to notice any animalistic impulses, or any faint memories should start to emerge once more. Powers: MR-2242-M is a powerful shapeshifter, able to incorporate the genetic information of any creature whose meat he has eaten into his own and either alter his own physiology to match it or grow it out of his body as an extra body part. For example, he can alter his sense of smell by replicating the olfactory system of a bear or change sections of his skin to the armoured exoskeleton of a crab, or he could grow wings or tentacles out of any part of his body. He can also grow extra body parts out of these new body parts, allowing for some extremely versatile mutations. This involves mass generation of cells at an extremely rapid pace, using up lipids from the food he eats. This also gives him the additional ability to regenerate from a number of injuries that would otherwise leave him maimed or dead, as long as he has eaten enough to provide the necessary lipids. Privileges: [SECURITY NOTE; MR-2242-M IS TO BE LIMITED TO A LARGELY LOW FAT VEGAN DIET IN ORDER TO LIMIT LIPID DEVELOPMENT. IF SUBJECT MAINTAINS GOOD BEHAVIOR, HE MAY BE ALLOWED ONE LOW FAT MEAT BASED MEAL A WEEK, SUCH AS CHICKEN OR WHITE FISH] * Large Desk * Dresser with size adjusted subject clothing * Size appropriate writing equipment * Three large journals, more to be added when full * Bookshelf * A number of young adult novels * Small television set with a DVD player * Various animated movies and television series on DVD [SECURITY NOTE; FILMS DEPICTING HUMAN NATURE AS VILLAINOUS OR IN AN OTHERWISE NEGATIVE LIGHT ARE PROHIBITED]</s> <\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn @TheMushroomLord@t2wave With things a bit calmer, Vam took the time to look closer at the object now in her hand. It was bone. HER bone?! How had she done that? It had felt so natural and effortless. The voice in her head quickly snapped her out of her thoughts and she spun around in confusion, trying to find the source. The shadowy being appeared to be looking at her, granted it was hard to tell. Had that come from him? Was it a him? Again, hard to tell. She stared at him a moment before finally responding in a quiet voice, "...I don't know..I don't remember..Who are you?" The younger boy suggested going to the canteen, and she nodded her agreement. Yes, food sounded nice..if there was any food there. She wasn't convinced any staff was here at all. That was an automated message, after all. It didn't care who was here. It would still play. Everything was clearly malfunctioning though. If there were staff, wouldn't they have come by now? There would be someone guarding prisoners, right? Still she began to walk towards where she guessed the canteen was. That is until another sound stopped her, and she quickly turned, gripping the bone tightly again. She stood frozen until the metal on metal sound stopped. It sounded fairly close, and she didn't know if she should be afraid of whatever it was or not..but she definitely felt it regardless! She was the only one of them with a weapon, so she motioned to the other two to stay and slowly approached where the sound had come from, prepared to fight if need be.</s> <\|message\|>Emily David Subject: FP-1991-ED Last Recorded Location: Purple Ward Last Recorded Interaction: @BCTheEntity@Nyxira@Bazmund --- The girl calling her self Dolly looked at the man who accompanied Blade back to the group. Of all the door they walked past to reunite together, there didn't seem to be many other people within the hall. The entire hall full of identical rooms, and only four of them were occupied. Dolly didn't question why Blade passed up the remaining doors, she figured they were probably empty anyway. She looked up at the person Blade had found. The newest member of their little band was taller than everyone, but looked much skinnier. Dolly found it a little funny because it was like the man was stretched out half a foot, but kept it to herself. So far, she was the only child there, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. She turned back to the person she had found with the hoodie. He didn't seem to react one way or another, and Blade caught on that the man was not all there. After introductions were made, Dolly spoke up, "Um, if you don't mind, I've decided to call myself Dolly." She wasn't entirely against the name Blade had tried to assign her, but she was more partial to Dolly. It sounded nicer. But since she didn't have a name for any of the others outside of Blade, she thought it would be easier to keep it that way. Not entirely sure what a druggie was, she opted to just stick with Dougie for simplicities sake and it sounded more like a name than Druggie did. She also thought Sticks was a funny name. Dolly followed Blade as he walked down the hall towards, well she was not quite sure, but it seemed like food would be that way. She grabbed a hold of Dougie's hand and led him as they rest of the group started down the hall. She let go, and once she found that he was going to keep following them, ran to catch up to Blade as he took the lead. Side by side, she looked up at him while keeping pace. "You didn't give yourself a name. I thought of Blade because of the knife on your arm. Is that alright?" she asked. As they walked down the hall, Dolly commented about the halls, the doors they passed by. She wanted to ask him about the loud noise that echoed the halls before the lights had cut out. As far as she was aware, she was the only one who got scared by it. Dougie stood stationary as she clung to him, and the others didn't bring it up either. Before she opened her mouth, they stopped by a pair of large double doors. Like the others, these doors were unlocked and pushed open ever so slightly. Presumably this was the cafeteria. Dolly forgot her question when the possibility of food just on the other side presented itself. She was hungry, Blade was hungry, and presumably the other two were hungry as well. Now would probably not be the time to ask, but in the back of her mind, she was afraid whatever that noise was going to come back.</s> <\|message\|>Felix Jones Felix Jones — MY-1801-FJ The boy watched his friend as he awaited their response, absentmindedly wondering if the wisps of shadowy stuff were thicker than they had been just moments before. Noticing his friend making some kind of gesture to him, a fist with their thumb pointed towards the ceiling, confusion flashed across the boy's face as he tried to determine the meaning behind the motion, a lifetime without meaningful social interaction having left him at a loss to many basic social conventions. The boy's confusion was short-lived, however, as only moments later the accompanying message reached the boy, making the gestures meaning clear, "Good idea". Unlike the last time his friend had spoken, this time the boy was pretty certain that his friend hadn't physically spoken, their voice seeming to have come from somewhere directionless. In his head maybe? The boy dismissed the thought, as far as he was concerned some people just spoke like that and right now he was more preoccupied with the pride that had begun to well up in him from the praise he'd received, however small that praise had actually been. The boy moved to follow his companion, the smile on his face showing that his pleased feeling had not yet faded. The boy noticed his friend making the same thumbs-up gesture and another that the boy recognised as 'come here' to the girl but didn't think much of it, it wasn't like he was being asked to do anything difficult like speak to her after all. The boy found a strange comfort in having someone friendly to walk beside, an alien feeling, but a nice one nonetheless. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the boy was snapped out of his stupor by a loud banging noise, followed by another, then another, then another, until, with a metallic screech, the noise stopped. The boy saw the girl hold the flat of her palm out towards him and his friend. That one meant she wanted them to stop, didn't it? Watching her as she slowly began to move in the direction the noise had emanated from just moments before, the boy saw her clutching tightly in her hands the unidentified object he'd noticed earlier, what appeared to be some sort of sharpened instrument, made out of what looked like bone. Was she planning to go and see if whatever had made the noise was dangerous? He guessed so. Did she want to protect his friend and him? Even if he was too shy to talk to her the boy certainly didn't want anyone to get hurt for his sake. Should he try and help her? The idea of facing whatever had made that crashing noise before seemed a little scary, but for whatever reason, the boy felt like it probably couldn't hurt him, or maybe more like it wouldn't matter much if it did… And maybe if he helped out his new friend would praise him some more afterwards? After several long moments of contemplation and hesitation, the boy decided he'd help the girl, taking a deep breath as he slipped his hand away from his friend's and moved to position himself just behind the girl, trying his hardest to appear as small as possible as he did so. @AelitaJezebelle@t2wave</s>	<\|message\|>Malcolm "Well, I was planning to call myself Grey or something, but hey, whatever floats your boat I guess. I'm fine with pretty much whatever." The giant said with a shrug. He met the suggestion of looking for the cafeteria with an enthusiastic nod. "Yep, I'll second that. I can't tell for sure, but it's possible I might actually be starving to death, so lead the way." Honestly, he was just glad this guy knew where he was going. He felt like something in his head was going absolutely insane, to the point where any faint memories of where to go that might have remained were getting jumbled up along with the rest of his thoughts. Before he could voice that concern however, a massive screech rang out, and he and the other man were suddenly plunged into darkness. Barely a moment afterwards though, he noticed his head feeling kind of weird, resting his head his hand just from how strange it was. "Ah, what the he-What the hell?" He asked, speaking about the odd feeling at first, but quickly asking once again when he noticed what seemed to be a flash of silver suddenly flaring in his mind. He could swear he saw the outline of his own feet somewhere in there, but he supposed it was also possible he might just be losing his mind. Then again, if someone like him could exist, he figured he shouldn't pick the option of it all just being in his head just yet... Before long, the lights came back on thanks to some backup generator or something, the lights turned back on, and no weird flashes appeared after the first. "Uh, anyway yeah, let's go." He said to Red. "I'll just follow your lead for now."</s>
<\|description\|>Samuel J Tavares Age: 26 Years ID Number: MR-1634-SJT Nationality: Canadian Appearance: -185cm in height -Short brown hair, the length of a #2 hair shaver -Light blue eyes -Caucasian skin, very pale when compared to other Caucasians (possible affect of anomaly?) -Currently 95kg, entered Facility B at 127kg. Stretch marks present along his sides -Slight deformation on left pinky finger due to an incident with a knife -Tattoo of a crab on right arm -MR-1634-SJT wears male clothes Background: MR-1634-SJT grew up with both parents and a younger sister in [VOID], Ontario, Canada. Born October 30th [VOID], it is unclear when his anomaly first started manifesting. From a young age he was never bothered by the cold, likely due to his anomaly but this is unconfirmed. MR-1634-SJT claims the first time his anomaly manifested physically was when he was 13, when he chilled a glass of water he was holding at the time. Staff did not discover MR-1634-SJT until he was age 20 as he kept his anomaly well hidden. He was identified as a red level anomalous individual, was captured at [VOID] on [VOID], and was swiftly moved to Facility B. For several days MR-1634-SJT tried denying his anomalous nature, but after being shown the facility had evidence of his nature he resigned himself and has been an easy subject to work with. Powers: Cryokinesis \|\| Subject can manipulate the atoms in objects, slowing them down and thus decreasing the temperature of said object. He can also manipulate moisture in the air to create ice along surfaces. Cooling objects seems limited to a 5 foot radius, ice generation seems limited to a 10 foot radius. Thicker walls require the subject to take more time to collect the needed moisture. Subject can also make icicle-like object which he can throw with surprising strength and precision. Icicles can penetrate up to 1 inch in to skin, causing bodily harm but on their own are not lethal. Subject has difficulty freezing living tissue, requiring several minutes of direct contact to cause third degree frostbite. Privileges: -Reclining chair -Television -Several nature documentary DVDs -Several "retro" video game consoles with games -Treadmill -Bookshelf with mainly young adult fantasy novels -Bedside table with lamp</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle, @t2wave Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- The trio hadn't even been walking for a handful of seconds before they were stopped in their tracks by yet another source of heavy banging noises that left a light ringing aloft in the air. Then there was a pause. Casey felt his heart thumping in his chest during the silence. Those other sounds from a few moments ago, they'd been in the distance. But these were coming from somewhere ahead of them, down the very hall in which they were standing. He felt his foot shift an inch backwards as the noises continued, but this time with a metallic screeching filling the air. He moved his hand back, only to find that it was now empty - his young companion has slipped away and was moving behind the girl with them. Wasn't he scared? No, Casey could feel that he was scared. But if that was the case, why had the boy moved forward when Casey's own feet wanted to move backwards? He hesitated, but eventually forced himself to move forward, stepping to stand beside the two other individuals he shared the hall with. They moved forward step-by-step until finally the visage of a young girl came into view. Casey's head tilted up slightly, his large white pupil-less eyes moving past the girl and to the door behind her -- or rather, what used to be a door. It looked very broken. She had...no. There had to have been a malfunction or something. His eyes turned down to his hands, looking at the inky wisps flowing hesitantly around his wrists and hands. What the hell was going on? His face turned up again to look at the new figure. Were they.. they weren't normal, were they? He clearly wasn't. His gaze shifted once again to the boy in front of him. Was he abnormal? And what about the woman? Where'd she get that weapon?? She seemed just as clueless as he was. His thoughts were racing, and he honestly didn't know what to even do at this point. All he knew was that the three figures standing in front of him all seemed to be in the same boat - at least he assumed so for the young girl; she had come from a room similar to theirs after all. Well, there was another thing he knew. They had to find someone to tell them what was going on and where they were. He felt his gaze pull from those in front of him and to a shape in the corner of his eye. A wide corridor. He looked between his companions and the corridor, hesitantly stepping forward to try and get a good look at what was there. He half-turned back as he began walking, motioning for the three of them to come along. He didn't know who any of them were, but two of them seemed to young to know any more than he did, and the woman didn't seem to be hiding anything - so it made sense for them to stick together. He just hoped they weren't freaking out internally about his appearan- Wait.. He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. Did he hear...voices? It took him a few more hesitant steps before he was in motion again, lulling the length of his steps so the group could stick close together. Were those voices someone who could help them? Or were they more people like them, not knowing where the hell they were or why? He slowed as he approached a turn in the corridor, looking back behind him at his companions to make sure they were still close. He turned forward, peeking his head out to see what was there. He felt his heart skip a beat as the short tendrils on his head laid back and wiggled anxiously. Four figures. He could hear their voices well enough to discern what they were saying now, but he wasn't paying attention much. What his brain focused on was that they were dressed the exactly the same as he and his companions - like prisoners of some sort. There was no doubt about it with the matching clothes and the wrist/neck manacles - they were definitely meant to be contained or something. But why? Maybe it didn't matter, because he felt his muscles relax somewhat. If they were in the same situation as him, they wouldn't know anything either, presumably. The term 'safety in numbers' popped into his head. It made enough sense. He looked to the three other people he'd been traveling the halls with, motioning encouragingly as he stepped side ways away from the 'concealment' that the corner offered. He turned his gaze to the hall where the four other individuals were - it seemed they'd found what seemed to be the cafeteria. He couldn't exactly see what it looked like inside unless he approached, but he was sure it'd look just like any normal cafeteria would. He raised a hand to wave and let out a call on instinct, but once again came up without success. Not being able to speak was really limiting, he had come to realize. He hoped this new group wouldn't be phased by his appearance - it was a stroke of luck that the two young ones and the long-haired woman he'd already met hadn't ran away, considering he couldn't put them at ease verbally. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP - Yellow Wing@Bartimaeus@TheMushroomLord@AelitaJezebelle On first approach the young teen was ready to strike should someone come her way. However in the pale yellow of the emergency lights she spotted three figures. Two were easy enough to make out, a woman and a child. The third was... shadowy? Mind playing tricks on her perhaps. Observing further the shadow didn't go away. All three had similar attire to her own. The woman had a weapon raised, some kind of knife or spike, it was hard to make out. Having just wrestled with something much sturdier looking than this lot she lowered the chair leg she had and clicked her tongue. These must have been the ones she'd actually heard. That realization was not all that comforting considering she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Damn that shadow though. The other two weren't really reacting to it and it seemed to pay them no mind. Against her better judgement she would hold smashing the thing for now. Really at this point the only one that the girl had any interest in talking to was the very clear adult. Somehow the teen knew how to fight. Not that she was skilled at such, but the will to fight for freedom from... something. Had she done this before? That empty void in her memory was glaring right now. Extremely upsetting waking up with nothing. Her fear came out as anger as she scowled. "I would put that down femeie. I don't want to hurt you." There was a fairly strong Romanian accent to her speech. It had rather naturally come out as English for the most part though. She must have been speaking it regularly for a while. The teen's gaze was once again drawn to the shadow creature what had decided to move away and check around a corner. Was it waving to them to follow? Right about now Adelina was fairly certain this was some kind of hallucination... or perhaps a spirit? Were that the case she best not offend it. The oddest thing was how it wore clothing not unlike her own. Rubbing her head she brushed her pony tail back behind her. "Also, please tell me I am not the only one that sees that." She gestured to Casey and when the other two appeared to immediately acknowledge what she was pointing to there was a brief moment of panic. Was she superstitious? Apparently so. At that point she nearly forgot about the other two. The color in her face drained away as she stood there trying to decide how to proceed. It was easier when she could dismiss it as her imagination. The motion to come continued. Hesitantly she shuffled closer to Casey and peeked around the corner to find that there were still others like them. To say that the girl was overwhelmed at the moment would be an understatement. The thing that prevented much hysteria was that she didn't know how to properly respond. "What the hell is going on?" She muttered aloud. Close enough to the shadow thing she considered trying to touch it. No one here seemed outright hostile at this point. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached out to touch the shadowy substance surrounding Casey.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @Randomness@BCTheEntity@Bazmund Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- There was some conversation that occurred. Maybe. He wasn't really certain, and kept slipping back in and out of thought again, so none of it really stuck. The whispers were quietly trying to claim his attention, too, further muddling anything that he might have heard otherwise. Not that any of it seemed to matter. It all seemed to go by very quickly, yet also so very, very slowly. Without realizing it, he was already once again following where the child led him, although his pace slowed when she ceased to tug him along, as though the lack of persistent direction left him without motivation. Still, his feet continued to carry him forward almost automatically rather than by intention. He didn't notice how long he was walking for. He barely even noticed the little group of people who he was inadvertently following, for that matter, simply going with the flow that had been started for him until his dampened senses were met by a bitter smell and the sight of something red. Something red and wrong. Brows knit faintly in a sort of confusion as charcoal grey eyes slowly raised to see the rest, panning drowsily across the scene which he couldn't wrap his elusive thoughts around. His face showed no signs any of it having made any more impression upon him than anything else had thus far, yet he immediately came to a stop, completely and utterly still.</s>	<\|message\|>Samuel J Tavares Whatever that awful sound they heard was it did not sound good nor did Red want to know what caused it. When the lights were back on he glanced at his hand since it felt strange, was that...frost? He wiped it off and decided to try and figure out that mystery later. "Ya, food is this way, and I like you being Grey and I'll be Red, less chance for confusion that way if we run in to anyone else." Red made his way to the cafeteria, or he supposed it was the canteen as the voice said. As he got there he saw a group of people gathering at the entrance, it seemed he and Grey were not the only ones in this facility. Among them the ones Red immediately noticed were a couple of younger kids as well as someone who seemed to be covered in some kind of shadowy miasma. That may have concerned Red before, but given Greys size and theory that people here might not be normal he figured this was just someone whose abnormality was more visible than others. "Hello, hi," Red raised his hand in greeting as he approached the others. "I'm Red, the large gentleman behind me goes by Grey. I'm guessing you all are in the same boat as us and just kinda woke up with no memory of what this place is or how you got here?"</s>
<\|description\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn Age: 29 ID Number: FY-2232-VAM Nationality: American Appearance: FY-2232-VAM is a caucasian female, measuring 167 centimeters and weighing 70 kgs as of [VOID]. FY-2322-VAM has long black hair down to her waist and blue eyes. She wears female clothing. Background: FY-2322-VAM was born on April 10th, [VOID] in San Fransisco, California. FY-2322-VAM had a difficult childhood due to abuse from her mother to her and her 2 sisters. Her eldest sister took her and her siblings in as of [VOID] and raised them to adulthood. Her childhood after her sister took her in was fairly normal and uneventful in nature. FY-2322-VAM was not aware of her anomalous nature until [VOID] when she was hit by a car and was able to heal herself afterwards. Anomalous Containment Staff became aware of FY-2322-VAM on [VOID]. She was resistant during transport but has since become much more cooperative. Powers: FY-2322-VAM is able to manipulate the bones in her own body, going as far as even pulling them out of her body to use for various purposes. Tests have shown she has a second skeleton layered over the first, which is the one she's able to manipulate. The movement of FY-2322-VAM's bones does not appear to cause her any strong physical pain. She describes the feeling as uncomfortable but bearable, and any muscles, tendons, etc that the bones travel through to exit her body are healed immediately. The bones regenerate themselves as well, but this takes a longer period of time, so there is a limit to how much she can do at one time. Privileges: - Desk - Dresser - Lamp - Bookshelf - Various books to stock the bookshelf - Tea - Puzzles - A music box</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle, @t2wave Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- The trio hadn't even been walking for a handful of seconds before they were stopped in their tracks by yet another source of heavy banging noises that left a light ringing aloft in the air. Then there was a pause. Casey felt his heart thumping in his chest during the silence. Those other sounds from a few moments ago, they'd been in the distance. But these were coming from somewhere ahead of them, down the very hall in which they were standing. He felt his foot shift an inch backwards as the noises continued, but this time with a metallic screeching filling the air. He moved his hand back, only to find that it was now empty - his young companion has slipped away and was moving behind the girl with them. Wasn't he scared? No, Casey could feel that he was scared. But if that was the case, why had the boy moved forward when Casey's own feet wanted to move backwards? He hesitated, but eventually forced himself to move forward, stepping to stand beside the two other individuals he shared the hall with. They moved forward step-by-step until finally the visage of a young girl came into view. Casey's head tilted up slightly, his large white pupil-less eyes moving past the girl and to the door behind her -- or rather, what used to be a door. It looked very broken. She had...no. There had to have been a malfunction or something. His eyes turned down to his hands, looking at the inky wisps flowing hesitantly around his wrists and hands. What the hell was going on? His face turned up again to look at the new figure. Were they.. they weren't normal, were they? He clearly wasn't. His gaze shifted once again to the boy in front of him. Was he abnormal? And what about the woman? Where'd she get that weapon?? She seemed just as clueless as he was. His thoughts were racing, and he honestly didn't know what to even do at this point. All he knew was that the three figures standing in front of him all seemed to be in the same boat - at least he assumed so for the young girl; she had come from a room similar to theirs after all. Well, there was another thing he knew. They had to find someone to tell them what was going on and where they were. He felt his gaze pull from those in front of him and to a shape in the corner of his eye. A wide corridor. He looked between his companions and the corridor, hesitantly stepping forward to try and get a good look at what was there. He half-turned back as he began walking, motioning for the three of them to come along. He didn't know who any of them were, but two of them seemed to young to know any more than he did, and the woman didn't seem to be hiding anything - so it made sense for them to stick together. He just hoped they weren't freaking out internally about his appearan- Wait.. He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. Did he hear...voices? It took him a few more hesitant steps before he was in motion again, lulling the length of his steps so the group could stick close together. Were those voices someone who could help them? Or were they more people like them, not knowing where the hell they were or why? He slowed as he approached a turn in the corridor, looking back behind him at his companions to make sure they were still close. He turned forward, peeking his head out to see what was there. He felt his heart skip a beat as the short tendrils on his head laid back and wiggled anxiously. Four figures. He could hear their voices well enough to discern what they were saying now, but he wasn't paying attention much. What his brain focused on was that they were dressed the exactly the same as he and his companions - like prisoners of some sort. There was no doubt about it with the matching clothes and the wrist/neck manacles - they were definitely meant to be contained or something. But why? Maybe it didn't matter, because he felt his muscles relax somewhat. If they were in the same situation as him, they wouldn't know anything either, presumably. The term 'safety in numbers' popped into his head. It made enough sense. He looked to the three other people he'd been traveling the halls with, motioning encouragingly as he stepped side ways away from the 'concealment' that the corner offered. He turned his gaze to the hall where the four other individuals were - it seemed they'd found what seemed to be the cafeteria. He couldn't exactly see what it looked like inside unless he approached, but he was sure it'd look just like any normal cafeteria would. He raised a hand to wave and let out a call on instinct, but once again came up without success. Not being able to speak was really limiting, he had come to realize. He hoped this new group wouldn't be phased by his appearance - it was a stroke of luck that the two young ones and the long-haired woman he'd already met hadn't ran away, considering he couldn't put them at ease verbally. --- ---</s> <\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP - Yellow Wing@Bartimaeus@TheMushroomLord@AelitaJezebelle On first approach the young teen was ready to strike should someone come her way. However in the pale yellow of the emergency lights she spotted three figures. Two were easy enough to make out, a woman and a child. The third was... shadowy? Mind playing tricks on her perhaps. Observing further the shadow didn't go away. All three had similar attire to her own. The woman had a weapon raised, some kind of knife or spike, it was hard to make out. Having just wrestled with something much sturdier looking than this lot she lowered the chair leg she had and clicked her tongue. These must have been the ones she'd actually heard. That realization was not all that comforting considering she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Damn that shadow though. The other two weren't really reacting to it and it seemed to pay them no mind. Against her better judgement she would hold smashing the thing for now. Really at this point the only one that the girl had any interest in talking to was the very clear adult. Somehow the teen knew how to fight. Not that she was skilled at such, but the will to fight for freedom from... something. Had she done this before? That empty void in her memory was glaring right now. Extremely upsetting waking up with nothing. Her fear came out as anger as she scowled. "I would put that down femeie. I don't want to hurt you." There was a fairly strong Romanian accent to her speech. It had rather naturally come out as English for the most part though. She must have been speaking it regularly for a while. The teen's gaze was once again drawn to the shadow creature what had decided to move away and check around a corner. Was it waving to them to follow? Right about now Adelina was fairly certain this was some kind of hallucination... or perhaps a spirit? Were that the case she best not offend it. The oddest thing was how it wore clothing not unlike her own. Rubbing her head she brushed her pony tail back behind her. "Also, please tell me I am not the only one that sees that." She gestured to Casey and when the other two appeared to immediately acknowledge what she was pointing to there was a brief moment of panic. Was she superstitious? Apparently so. At that point she nearly forgot about the other two. The color in her face drained away as she stood there trying to decide how to proceed. It was easier when she could dismiss it as her imagination. The motion to come continued. Hesitantly she shuffled closer to Casey and peeked around the corner to find that there were still others like them. To say that the girl was overwhelmed at the moment would be an understatement. The thing that prevented much hysteria was that she didn't know how to properly respond. "What the hell is going on?" She muttered aloud. Close enough to the shadow thing she considered trying to touch it. No one here seemed outright hostile at this point. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached out to touch the shadowy substance surrounding Casey.</s> <\|message\|>Oftobi Porter Eleutherius Nears MP-6736-OPEN Possible Targets: @Randomness@BCTheEntity@Bazmund Location: Cafeteria [Entrance] --- --- There was some conversation that occurred. Maybe. He wasn't really certain, and kept slipping back in and out of thought again, so none of it really stuck. The whispers were quietly trying to claim his attention, too, further muddling anything that he might have heard otherwise. Not that any of it seemed to matter. It all seemed to go by very quickly, yet also so very, very slowly. Without realizing it, he was already once again following where the child led him, although his pace slowed when she ceased to tug him along, as though the lack of persistent direction left him without motivation. Still, his feet continued to carry him forward almost automatically rather than by intention. He didn't notice how long he was walking for. He barely even noticed the little group of people who he was inadvertently following, for that matter, simply going with the flow that had been started for him until his dampened senses were met by a bitter smell and the sight of something red. Something red and wrong. Brows knit faintly in a sort of confusion as charcoal grey eyes slowly raised to see the rest, panning drowsily across the scene which he couldn't wrap his elusive thoughts around. His face showed no signs any of it having made any more impression upon him than anything else had thus far, yet he immediately came to a stop, completely and utterly still.</s> <\|message\|>Samuel J Tavares Whatever that awful sound they heard was it did not sound good nor did Red want to know what caused it. When the lights were back on he glanced at his hand since it felt strange, was that...frost? He wiped it off and decided to try and figure out that mystery later. "Ya, food is this way, and I like you being Grey and I'll be Red, less chance for confusion that way if we run in to anyone else." Red made his way to the cafeteria, or he supposed it was the canteen as the voice said. As he got there he saw a group of people gathering at the entrance, it seemed he and Grey were not the only ones in this facility. Among them the ones Red immediately noticed were a couple of younger kids as well as someone who seemed to be covered in some kind of shadowy miasma. That may have concerned Red before, but given Greys size and theory that people here might not be normal he figured this was just someone whose abnormality was more visible than others. "Hello, hi," Red raised his hand in greeting as he approached the others. "I'm Red, the large gentleman behind me goes by Grey. I'm guessing you all are in the same boat as us and just kinda woke up with no memory of what this place is or how you got here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Vayla Alex Maylinnn Vam noticed the other two join her, and she couldn't deny she felt relieved that she wasn't the only one facing whatever was ahead. She wasn't sure what she expected to be making the noise they'd heard, but a young girl wasn't it. Still, it was the best outcome, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly lowered her weapon again. This girl appeared to be a prisoner like them. Why were they all prisoners here, anyway? What had they done wrong? It hurt her head to try and wrap her mind around all these unknowns. Casey's movement beside her pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see him motioning them to follow. She gave a nod first to him, then to the girl asking if they saw him, and she motioned for her to follow them as well. They might as well stay together. Safety in numbers, right? As they walked forward, she looked up at the signs pointing to the cafeteria ahead. Strange. She would expect to smell food going this way, so why did it smell so much of disinfectant? She noticed Casey waving to someone and hurried to catch up. There were more people here! Hopefully someone would have answers. She waved with a growing smile as she approached. The purple squares on their clothing caught her attention, and she glanced down at the yellow on her own dress, "The colors are different." What did that mean?</s>
<\|description\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` Age: `#> 14 years` ID Number: `#> FY-1427-AP` Nationality: `#> Moldovan` Appearance: `#> Hair: Red. Sides shaved with remaining hair left to grow out in a mohawk. Length is down to her mid back and tied in a ponytail #> Eyes: Hazel #> Skin tone: Fair #> Height: 158cm #> Weight: 42kg #> Markings: None #> Notes: Smaller frame indicates malnourishment during early development. Medical assessment shows subject FR-1427-AP to be consistent with regional norms. Physical health has improved since being brought to the facility. #> Wing: YELLOW. Subject FR-1427-AP has proven highly cooperative.` Background: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP has been interviewed yielding the following information: Born and raised in the poverty stricken country of Moldova, subject FR-1427-AP had little hope of financial success or security. Current style of hair was chosen out of necessity, having been cut and sold to pay for basic goods. Minimal education. Anomalous behavior started approximately [VOID] years ago. Retrieval of subject FR-1427-AP was conducted shortly thereafter. Since capture and relocation to Facility B subject FR-1427-AP has indicated significant improvement of living conditions. In exchange for privileges subject FR-1427-AP has agreed to comply with given requests. Subject FR-1427-AP's has lent assistance to staff with her anomalous abilities on numerous occasions. #> Notes: Reward based tactics are the suggested first method of persuasion. Learning material also appears to be a sufficient and easily attained resource for motivation. Enrolled and provided material in order to teach subject FR-1427-AP English in order to reduce the need of a translator.` Powers: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP displays an inordinate level of strength and durability beyond her physical capability. Scans do not indicate any abnormal electrical, chemical, or biological functions accompanying the anomaly. From further testing it is hypothesized that subject FR-1427-AP is able to generate a field throughout her body to apply force to the environment around her via physical contact. This same field allows her to maintain cohesion and structure under extreme conditions. To date subject FR-1427-AP has proven able to lift in excess of 2000kg, remain unharmed by arms fire, and survive extreme physical trauma. #> Notes: While subject FR-1427-AP is cooperative staff should still exercise caution when in close proximity. Devices that administer high voltage shocks are effective at immobilizing subject FR-1427-AP and should be carried at all times when in contact.` Privileges: `#> Subject FR-1427-AP has been given access to the following resources: Desk, Hutch, Educational materials, Tutor sessions, Journal (vetted by staff), Puzzles`</s> <\|message\|>Jeremiah Beltrán Carlos @Randomness@Nyxira Lotta questions. Lotta bullshit he didn't have time for. And apparently, the guy was way happier to be out of the cell than he ought to be. He was only "free" once he was out and away... but whatever. Sticks caught him on the door thing, too - and the prison thing. Shit. 'Uh... I dunno, mate, my memory is all kinds of shot,' he admitted, half the truth and half deflection to avoid the topic. 'I'm just sayin', if neck collars and kids are normal in prison, then this all-' A quick gesture around him, toward the whole prison situation. '-ain't as fucky as it ought to be.' Speaking of kids, there was the little girl again! And some druggie. Holy fuck, it all made sense now: they weren't in a prison, they were in a loony bin! Which apparently made him a lunatic... no, that couldn't be it. He could think straight, he had his... wait. Shit. He had amnesia. He didn't know if he was mad or not. Fucking God damn it. 'Uh... the li'le girl is, yeah. Hey there.' He waved to her, glancing at the... the guy. Totally out of it, definitely on drugs. Not very pleasant to look at anyway. He had a hoodie. How the hell did he have a hoodie? Fucker was more dressed up than anyone else in the place so far. Pointing a thumb at the newbie, he said 'So this guy was still locked in 'is cell. Apparently, ours were all electronic, his was manual. I got him out no problem, though. An' this girl is... er, the li'le girl I mentioned.' He still didn't know anybody's names, even as he gestured toward her... that needed fixing. And they needed feeding, at that. 'Right, so I don't normally listen to big voices tellin' me what to do, but I'ma do what the speaker said, because I am hungry as fff- as a moth- ...I'm hungry, okay? I'm gonna get food.' As he began to walk in the general direction he, somehow, knew he should, he announced 'By the way, if you guys don't care what I call ya, you're Sticks, you're Tiny, an' he's Druggie Dougie,' pointing first to the new guy, then the girl, and then the guy in the hoodie- oh, Hoodie, that'd be way better. Well, too late for it now. The guy wasn't there enough to give his own name, anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Casey Adison Tearney Mentions: @TheMushroomLord, @AelitaJezebelle Location: Personal Containment Hall [Yellow ward] --- --- Casey turned his eyes from the girl who had arrived in front of them, and to the ceiling. A cacophonous screeching sound met the ears of the trio, an ominous sound that he doubted any of them knew the source of. Just a moment later, all of the lights went out. Casey's shadowy faced turned back to the girl, his vision seemingly unaffected by the lack of functioning light fixtures. She seemingly had acquired a blade of some kind from somewhere. His shadowy hand curled its fingers around the boy's at his side - even though Casey felt rather comfortable in the dark, the boy likely would not. As he kept his gaze on her, he felt a string of words pull against the inside of his skull, intertwining as the sensation quickly faded. "Who are you - where are we?" She would hear the words from no particular direction - not that it mattered, as she wouldn't be able to see the source in the dark - but instead they sounded out seemingly from inside her own head. Even still, he felt two other small tugs inside his head, each directing him towards both the young boy and the older girl. He felt a sort of...empathy for them, in the moment. As the chugging, thrumming sound built louder in the distance, he could feel the two pulls -- they felt like - hesitation. Fear. If the girl was scared, she was likely no threat to him or the boy. Casey felt his muscles relax a bit. Soon enough, the sound would settle, and as it did, the darkness disappeared - instead being replaced by a muted yellow hue of light. The wisps around his body, which had thickened in the darkness, seemed to crawl away into his body - though notably less so than they had in the bright white of the lights they previous had. Moments later, an intercom sounded throughout the halls, informing them that the "facility" was now on backup power, and that staff would be working the fix the problem. Casey's heart fluttered in his chest. Staff? There were other people somewhere who could help?? He gave the boy's hand a light, encouraging squeeze. Moments after the intercom had seemed to shut off, another announcement tolled breakfast time, instructing them to head to wherever the canteen might be, before shutting off. The announcement soon coaxed the kid at his side to tug on Casey's arm, softly sharing his wishes to find the canteen. Casey took his other hand and offered a 'thumbs up' gesture to the boy as he felt more words form inside his head. Felix would hear a rather optimistic-sounding "Good idea." as Casey began taking short steps forward, still holding his hand lightly. As they got a bit closer to the girl to pass her, Casey would offer a quick 'thumbs up' and then a 'come along' gesture with his free hand. --- ---</s>	<\|message\|>`#> Adelina Plesca` FY-1427-AP: Yellow Wing "Infernal door." The girl muttered under her breath. Since waking up in this small room she'd had little to do but explore the contents that accompanied her. For the structure around her was well equipped to keep her contained. The door was solid and smooth, nothing with which the get a hand hold. The walls were just as sturdy. Putting her head against the door she could hear a slight hum. Throwing a chair at the obstacle the poor piece of furniture didn't stand a chance and broke apart on impact. It did glean a small tidbit of information, the thing was magnetized as parts of the chair clung in place. Having resigned to staying put being the only option the girl set herself to looking over the books and papers in the desk. Books, homework, stories... nothing particularly telling other than she was learning to speak English in particular, seemingly from Romanian. Shuffling through everything there were numerous references to FY-1427-AP. Must be her, whatever that meant. Locating a journal she flipped through the pages. Several were missing, having been completely torn out. Most entries were vague, almost cryptic even. Surely all of this was hers. Even testing some writing of her own it matched the look at feel. But she had no recollection of any of it. Most of the stuff was uninteresting at the moment. Having destroyed the chair she took the journal and a bur puzzle back to the bed. If she was stuck at the very least she would keep occupied. Whilst reading she could have sworn she'd heard something outside the door. It was light, barely audible through the solid object. As briefly as it was heard it was gone. Her mind playing tricks on her already? Only a few minutes later the seeming tranquility was shattered as a screeching sound penetrated even into the bunker of a room. Lights going out the space was plunged into darkness. The sound of objects falling came through the void. Thankfully the pitch didn't last long as lights came back on. Well, some kind of light anyway. Frantically looking around she was still alone which was a relief on one hand and terrifying on another. What the hell was going on? Releasing her grip she had mangled the frame of her bed when she'd grabbed it on impulse. Seeing the shape of the thing was something of a revelation. Made maybe the smallest amount of the journal make sense. Eyes turning to the door the bent parts of chair that had stuck to the door before now lay on the ground. Curious she approached again. No hum. Putting a hand against the door and pushing it budged ever so slightly as it was no longer receiving the needed power to keep it stationary. After some attempts to push the thing down she stepped back. There were slight indentations where she had been pushing against the thing with her hands. It had been groaning under the pressure but held. Well it wasn't immovable so maybe it had to slide, and slide it would, upward. Outside in the hall of the Yellow wing a loud ringing of metal being struck by something massive would echo out. Over and over as something desperately fought to get out. The sound stopped for a moment before a new, perhaps worse sound followed. The screeching of metal against metal as a distended door down the hall was forcibly pulled open. Well and truly wedged in an open state. A few seconds later an almost five foot nothing girl stepped out and glanced around cautiously. She'd pocked the small journal and a pencil before making her exit. Somehow she had expected more of a reaction to someone breaking out of a steel prison. At first glance there didn't seem to be anyone, but then she saw, or thought she saw at least, someone further down. Reaching down she picked up a chair leg and carefully made her way toward what she could only assume were the people keeping her here. Food wasn't on her mind at the moment with the adrenaline pumping. Surely they had heard her escape. You'd have to have been deaf to miss it. Better safe than sorry though.</s>
<\|description\|>Artemisia de Chauret Marquise de Estiegnac - 27 Female Human Appearance: Standing at 5' 5", Artemisia is about average height of a girl of her age. Her otherwise unremarkably sized bust is accentuated by her slender figure and a proper posture. Raised from birth as aristocracy, with the confidence to match, she is often dressed in dapper fabrics and cloaks, giving her a mature appearance that exceeds her diminutive size. Her hair is often done up with long, asymmetrical bangs with an unconventional ponytail, but on occasion her hair can be found simply let down. Height: 5' 5" Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Light brown Personality. Artemisia is a person that has seen far more than she should for a noble girl of only twenty-seven summers. From a land once prosperous, torn by war and disease, she has a tendency to become cynical, sometimes bitter. At face, she has a hint of sadness in her air. Nonetheless, she is a person that strives to be virtuous despite her failings, seeking to uphold her morals and her interpretation of noblisse oblige. Formerly rather arrogant and prideful, she can still be smug and still holds a good sense of self-worth despite being beaten down by her past. Influenced by her upbringing, she is yet still a sociable person; while not to the strictest definition of 'friendly,' she is possessed of a certain charisma and guile that can captivate many of those that she meets. Artemisia has a steady, unyielding quality to her and can be stubborn as an ox. She upholds her bargains, and expects others to uphold theirs. Once she takes hold of a grudge, she will take it to the grave. She has a great love for food, wine, and luxuries, despite her newfound circumstances. Dressing well is her particular weakness; in no uncertain terms does a traveling merchant adventurer –spice peddling or not-- dress in silk, gold clasps and finery. Artemisia does, and looks all the better for it. It does give her a bit of the occasional problem on the road, however. History: The United Provinces of Vruchtland, at best, can be described as a state in the business of keeping up appearances. A small nation, occupying the size of land a larger empire might call a province, it is a country of coastal lowlands, levees and costly reclaimed land. A nation of ports, a century ago, it was a maritime empire, ruled by the elite merchant-nobility class. After a hundred years of poor politics, expanding neighbors, and a following twenty years of siege and war, Vruchtland's prestige was barely held together by the slowly unraveling glue of an aging navy, a strong currency, and the natural defenses of floodable lowlands. The port Neuben dictated the flow of many goods into the continent, and stood as the stalwart guardian of the Laagare River, the gateway to the rest of the country and its upriver trading port, Estiegnac. Artemisia de Chauret was the fourth child of Fernand de Charuet, the marquess of Estiegnac, and a member of the merchant elite. As a member of a noble house in declining Vruchtland, Artimisia was groomed to take a position in the country's political and economic sphere. Immersed in a life of politics and trade, she slowly integrated into the family's affairs. At first, she sat in at discussions, threw parties with peers of her age at her family estate. Then, her responsibilities grew towards matters of state. Finally, as a merchant, she broached trade proposals, brokered agreements, and handled disputes in the name of her father. For a noble, she traveled well. When the armada was destroyed, betrayed by Vruchtland's closest ally, when the fleet's captured remnants sailed up past the silent forts of Neuben and into the heart of the country, it heralded the beginning of the end. The country, which had been so hard to take from the frontlines, stood no chance attacked from within. In a few months Estiegnac was under siege. Another couple months later, it was hit by yet another disaster. Artemisia and her family were caught in the siege. A few months later, plague wracked the city. Vruchtland dealt well with plague, but the ravages of war and a dearth of supplies soon reduced even the most practiced of cities. Artemisia, like many others, sought solutions to slow the death. In her own effort to turn back the plague, she dived into books, researching at first the esoteric, and then, as the situation grew more desperate, with her family dying around her, found herself going to the depths of the forbidden as the morbid circumstances drove her research into necromancy with an equally morbid curiosity. Despite her own efforts, little worked, and hardly stemmed the bleeding of the city. In the following months, four fifths of the population perished. The reduction soon forced the city's surrender; by the grace of god, what remained of the population was allowed to walk out. By the end of it, Artemisia was the new head of her family seat, but one in exile. ----- Level: 20 Class: Necromancer Profession: Merchant Stats: Strength (STR): E Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): B Charisma (CHA): B List of immunities: N/A Resistances: Necrotic Disease Poison Hunger Weaknesses: Holy Close quarters combat Equipment: Ceremonial Sword – A small, thin, gilt weapon carried more as a dress weapon than as a weapon for personal defense. Nonetheless, the 90cm weapon functions perfectly fine as a self-defense sidearm. Dagger – A simple well-crafted 30cm blade. It serves as a backup weapon in the direst of situations. Artemisia's Attire – Simple, well-made, but elegant. This often consists of a white blouse, dark skirt, boots, and a gilt black cape with a golden chain and clasp. More subtly, the buttons have her family's coat of arms. Ring of Estiegnac – A gold signet ring engraved with the Estiegnac coat of arms, belonging to the head of the house. Inigo – Artemisia's horse. Sturdy, reliable, but not the fastest. Fitted with a leather saddle and outfitted with a variety of bags for goods and traveling supplies, as well as an always handy to have change of clothes. Leather-bound Journal – Notes, spells, grocery lists, whatever. Probably a grocery list for exotic food. Skills Diplomacy (Passive) Deception (Passive) Spells Cure Wounds – Restores minor to moderate wounds to one's self or another over the course of several seconds. False Life – Fortifies one's self or another with an imitation of life, temporarily boosting vitality. Minor restoration – Cures one disease or condition. Equilibrium – Saps and transfers the life force of one target to another, dealing minor damage while healing the secondary target. Lesser Animate Dead – Animate a corpse with a mimicry of life. Raises a minor skeleton or zombie that follows Artemisia's commands. The spell lasts for a day before the target reverts to a corpse. Fireball – A very straightforward spell. Fires a ball of fire at a target. Bog Strike – Unleash a bolt of negative energy that ensnares the target, dealing minor damage and encumbering them for a small duration.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze The sounds of footsteps coming up from his side made Kaze turn with one mighty fist cocked back. An aura of doom surrounded him when Vani observed him and the potential oncoming strike. But the elf spoke, which got a puff of vapor from the lizardmans nose. "Fine, try to keep up." He said, this wasn't a fun situation, this was a serious time so it required him to be very serious. More footsteps, but the armored elf intervened, kicking the mace wielding soldier before stabbing him in the chest. Well that's what a longsword was designed for after all, thrusting through armor. A flick of Kaze's foot got the mace up into his palm before he launched it down the street, pelting some poor fool in the back with the chunk of metal and wood. But now the pair was off, Vani with his electrically charged shield, and Kaze lowering his shoulder, becoming a living battering ram. Vani's charge seemed to explode on impact with someone, sending them flying. Kaze's own shoulder knocked aside a beefy half-orc in field plate armor. Sending the green-skin tumbling into rubble as they moved. As the moved he heard a softer pitter patter of feet behind, well that was where most of his armor was so he wasn't particularly worried. They did come to a crossroads though, getting him to skid to a stop. Left, mercenaries out for blood. Right, Imperial soldiers out for blood. Center, a big ol' church that was a potential ambush. Behind, confused adventurer's possibly out for blood and a small martial arts girl judging by her build and clothes. Inhaling deeply he centered himself. "Iron Body. Tranquil Mind." He said, a glow engulfed him before his body gleamed with a rainbow of colors that were just barely visible on his white hide. His eyes had a strange purple sheen to them instead of that dull gray. Iron Body had doubled his physical defenses, a basic ability that had done him wonders in the past. Tranquil Mind had made it so low level psionic spells wouldn't work, and higher leveled ones effects were shorter. He had chosen the center path, the church. With his small preparations set he plowed ahead into the gaping cavern that was the church's main entrance. He was fully expecting to be pepper with spells or arrows or something, which is why he went first.</s> <\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus "Two Imperials coming on the right!" "Arte, deal with the archer please!" "Oops, there's a big wall coming up!" "To the left! To the left!" "Locke, update please~" Cecilia rattled off instructions at the speed of a repeating crossbow as she continued her trip through the dense alleyways of the eastern ruins, her journey now assisted by two of her adventuring peers. Settling comfortably into her position as scout and vanguard, the Spellblade softened up any incoming problems, adapting quickly to the quirks of this particular group. She was primarily a solo adventurer, of course, one beholden only to the qualifications of her quest and her personal whims, but that just meant she was accustomed to working with other adventurers out of the blue. Just a matter of being thoughtful, really. Thoughtful, while she forklifted all the annoying problems onto Locke and Arte's laps. With Locke's eyes in the sky and Cecilia's trailblazing, it was easy enough for the trio to keep away from any major battles. Zephyrus Aria proved to be a clincher of a spell in this situation; there was no need for them to murder any marauders or imperials when Cecilia simply knocked them off their feet and let Locke and Arte to fully incapacitate them afterwards. With such drive-by tactics, they continued through the back alleys and side streets, thankfully never encountering a particularly powerful enemy. Those confident in their strength, after all, largely congregated on more open roads in order to crush through opposition with sheer might and magic…which was quite convenient for the well-dressed trio. After all, by the time they broke out of the eastern labyrinth and into the center of the ruins, they looked to be the first ones there. Skidding to a stop, Cecilia twisted open her waterskin and glugged down half its contents, sweat glistening off her skin and exertion causing her complexion to flush warmly. Her runner's high was still kicking in, and her movement-enhancing magic thrummed through her body like ripples of sound as she looked around, taking in the forsaken majesty of the ruinous palace. Glowing crystals dotted the landscape, congregating upon the tower. Was that the dim light she saw southwards, every night she travelled here? The lilac-haired lady took in a deep breath, her smile renewed. This far away, even the sounds of battle were diminished, dulled. Just a little more effort then. She turned to the others, hands on her hips. "Alright, I'll go check out the tower. Got any magic ya wanna toss at me before I figure this climb out?"</s>	<\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Cecilia commanded, and Artemisia followed. It was not an arrangement that they had exactly planned, but at the moment it seemed to work, and that was what mattered. Galloping after the speeding spearwoman, her horse somehow managed to keep the pace, likely spurred on by the urgency and chaos around them to her incessant cracking of the reigns. Her spells flew out at the designated targets, smacking against any adventurer, soldier, or miscreant that threatened to slow their advance. When they'd needed it, she shot out the occasional healing spell or buff, making sure everybody was in tip-top shape to continue their push. Despite their unfamiliarity with each other, in the heat of the battle, they seemed like a well-oiled machine, the trademark of a set of well-seasoned adventurers. Artemisia cracked an offending man's helmet open with a lightning strike, sending the man sprawling permanently on the ground. She stuck mostly to the trademark spells of a common wizard; although she had a couple more interesting spells up her sleeve, she wasn't sure how well accepted they would be between Cecilia and Locke. Regardless, their reckless dash towards the center meant quick, simple spells were more efficient, anyway. Thankfully, the need for more powerful or complex magic was obviated by the path Cecilia had chosen; except for the odd adventurer or squad of soldiers, the resistance they encountered was few and far between. When they did encounter resistance, however, it was quite annoying; perhaps, their attire and belongings stood out just a little bit too much. With their route, they somehow made it to the center of the ruins, and even better, it appeared that they might have beaten everyone to it. Trotting to a stop on her horse, she gave it a well-deserved rest before breaking out her own hydration, breathing out deeply after she'd had her fill. Looking at the landscape of the interior ruins along with her fellow noble adventurers, Artemisia could see the ruins of a once great castle. More curiously, it seemed to be dominated by glowing crystals that littered the ancient stonework, possessing an energy that was no doubt of the magical variety. "It would be better if we stuck together. I'll continue to follow, at least as much as I can on horseback," she replied, still unwilling to leave her steed unattended. "Now, these magic crystals don't natively grow here. I wonder if it's an affect of our little heavens rock?"</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- 'Destroy the head,' the Angelic Mage silently communicated to her Angelic summon, the animated suit of angelic armor silently responding by now going for cleaving apart the head of the zombie it had just chopped off the arm off. Yet Yinha's eyes were, for a moment, inevitably drawn for a moment towards the raving of the insane old man in the back of the church as he shouted aloud. Apparently he didn't take too kindly to her summoning an angel in the room. While the ranting and raving at the end might have sounded like just that, however, she had learned enough of magic to at least tell the last jumble of foreign words the man spoke aloud were an incantation of some sort. Her lips pursed in slight concern at the sight. That couldn't be good. Indeed, as three corpses arose from the heaping pile, now shambling towards her in particular this time, the mage let out a small and quiet sigh as she extended a hand towards their heads. Though when she opened her mouth- "Holy Mirror Image....Consecrated Ring." -things changed. Yinha's visage became blurred to others, shining bright and somewhat blinding whitish light even, and three additional illusory duplicates of her seemed to arise around her with the same type of appearance. For simple zombies, it would be impossible to tell her apart from the images, as only striking them would allow them to 'figure out' what was fake and which was real. The shining light would also make her and the images harder to see and just visually target. These images would also shift each round, however, obscuring her true body until the illusions had been destroyed. A second tier spell to be sure, albeit costing a little more to cast than the traditional mage spell of "Mirror Image" that it was aping. Though she had not left her defense at only this. She would pause briefly, until the zombies got closer into range, before casting a second spell. A white light seemed to erupt from under her feet and cover the ground with a 5-foot radius around Yinha. A lower second tier area-of-effect spell, cheaper to cast and simply dealing holy damage to enemy creatures within...and with a minor secondary effect of setting undead immediately on fire within range.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze's eyes narrowed when his sword, strength, and the electricity just caused slight cracks in the dual swords. They were either purely magical or they were heavily enchanted blades to be able to withstand just the heft of his giant blade. Nevermind the fact the old man didn't even get knocked back by the strength of the blow. Those blades moved his own to the side before they were brought down on his face, which he moved with the blow to minimize the damage inflicted. Shallow cuts that he shook off. Growling he stepped back as the geezer got distracted. Yes he could have just blindly struck, but that armor and those swords weren't natural. So it was time to prepare further. his sword was slung over his shoulder to rest in its specialized sheathe. Slamming his fists together he started to glow with a soft light. "Invulnerable Body. Pace of Wind. Flow Acceleration." He growled out, that white light sinking into his body before he took on a deep purple glow. He'd have to thank the new comer for distracting the elder. These skills needed good concentration to pull off and weren't easy to do in the middle of a fight. The other two could play with the archer and new zombies, Kaze's target was the anti-cleric. Was he a necromancer? Meh it didn't matter. Moving into a stance with one hand leading, the other held back in a loose fist at his waist he watched. The man was focused back on the reptilian man and just went buck wild. But strangely Kaze kept up, that one hand swatting the flat of the blades, knocking them away and making the old man over-extend repeatedly. The thick metal of his gauntlet barely getting scratches from those strange weapons. When the older man rushed in again is when Kaze went on the offensive. He batted aside the blades once more and stepped into the geezers dead zone, the area where the weapons were completely useless. His knee came up to strike the mans midsection. Twisting his foot planted itself and he twisted into a corkscrew punch that was aimed to take off the insane mans arm by destroying his upper pectoral/shoulder. As that fist retracted his footwork shifted, the other one now leading so he could add torque to the oncoming haymaker for the old mans face. Kaze was Comboing Blows at a speed his size and build honestly shouldn't have, but monk skills allowed him to get to.</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle Annabelle took a cookie from Cecilia as well, seeming almost skittish to even reach out at the girl. A few munches, and she found her gaze drifting down to her own attire. Artemisia wasn't wrong, but it was an opinion. Annabelle had gone through quite a lot in these clothes, minimal as they were. She was no knight, no aristocrat. Her natural hardiness had done most of the work in keeping her protected, and perhaps a good deal of luck here and there. She wouldn't deny to herself that they'd be difficult to part with. But in the end, she'd been told the same sentiment as Artemisia's several times already. Maybe it was time. She certainly didn't want to annoy the group she was possibly going to fight alongside for however long. The black-haired girl nodded up at Artemisia. "Okay, but... I don't have very much money," she said. The truth of it was partly the reason she was so bare in the first place. She didn't dare talk about the second reason, at risk of embarrassing herself in front of the others forevermore.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus "Well, wouldn't say that we make all this permanent, but…" Cecilia's eyes flickered up and down Annabelle's body. She may have been scandalously underdressed, but her complexion was smooth despite no obvious signs of powders, creams or illusion magics, while the combination of black hair and red eyes gave a bit of a gothic edge to the woman. With some work, her interesting looks and somber personality could pull off a look that Cecilia couldn't, hm? Then Locke said something dark and vengeful. Right, he also had that sort of look, didn't he? They'd make a good pair, for sure. Vengeful mask-count man and his lady, the demon-summoning sword-mistress. How romantic~ "Don't worry about money too much," Cecilia waved, offering another cookie to Annabelle, "Not like we can do much in terms of shopping until after we get out of here…but once we do, you must go shopping with us. Alright? Entrance fee for joining the winner's group and all." A blink. Ah, there was the invisible boy that caused so much trouble and that Locke wanted to strangle. "What's your names anyways? I'm Cecilia, by the way. Cecilia Tonitrus. That's Artemisia, and down there, lying down, is Locke."</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze leaned back, his spinal column letting out several loud cracks before he shook the dust from his touch hide and armor. This was just a day full of adventure, he'd have some stories to tell when he went back and visited his people. Insane dark magic users, buxon elves, a paladin who didn't seem to know Smite Evil, and now up ahead two noble looking people. Well, noble by human standards. Who brought a horse into some ruins?! Or dressed like they were going to go to a party?! The pink humanoids were certainly an odd lot. The elven woman summoned up a thing. Lesser Angel? It didn't look very angelic...but had anyone ever truly seen one? Whatever, he shouldn't judge. But when she called out to the two ahead, just as Vani fainted, made the big mans eyes widen slightly. "Just some forewarning, Miss, this is kind of a free for all and not everyone is as nice as I and the unconscious one..." He rumbled to her quietly. Since Vani was out he just grabbed the collar of his cuirass and dragged him along behind. Approaching the two at the tower while looking upwards. The pair would see that his enormous sword was sheathed across his back and that he was battered, but still fully functioning. The cross-shaped wound on his muzzle had been healed, the darker scales silvered and fresh looking. "If you're peaceful, we're peaceful." He called out to them as he moved. The closer he got to them the bigger he seemed to get. He had one of those 'fills the room' kind of energy, but really he only towered a smidge over a foot to two feet over the pair. While he moved he looked at the strange crystal growths. Those didn't look very natural...</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle Oh. That certainly sounded like a viable option. Annabelle's eyes drifted to the various crystals around the room, and the vague notion of some kind of "lock" came to mind. The presence of these strange structures certainly started to make more sense in her mind. Wasting no time, she retrieved her sword from the holster at her lower back, and set to work alongside Carpenter. It didn't take much effort to shatter the fragile structures, even for her tiny familiar. A sword crashed through the air, sending fragments flying about, while the little red blob simply opted to root itself into the floor and punch out with a flat cylindrical shape, impacting the crystals even quicker than Annabelle could herself. In short work, they'd dismantled a good number, and by then Annabelle had noticed the changes occurring to the imprisoning blue crystal. A smile washed over her face, and she continued the shattering with increased fervor. Eventually, all that she could see within the room had been shattered, with Carpenter working to search for any smaller formations that might have been hidden in the nooks and crannies of the cavity. "I think... that's all of them," Annabelle said, turning to the fallen goddess crystal. The image of a crack forming upon the surface where Cecilia's spear had struck gave her a measure of certainty that they would succeed with this puzzle, and an eagerness (and perhaps a hint of fear) warmed her spirits.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Oh, that worked! Once her spear finally did more than just bounce away from the large crystal, Cecilia stopped, patiently waiting for Annabelle to finish her sweep of the smaller crystals in the room. It didn't feel as if anything changed, beyond the weakening of the imprisoning crystal, so that had to be a good thing, right? Briefly, Cecilia turned towards the opening in the wall again, narrowing her eyes. Pillars of smoke and dust still rose, but as far as new battles looked, it didn't seem likely. The imperials then? Made sense; adventurers were liable to just fight each other afterwards. "Thanks for the assist, Annabelle. Gonna pick up the pace now, cause I don't really think we have too much time. Just, like, y'know take cover and all, yeah?" As her tower companions prepared, Cecilia did as well, muttering a few arcane words to bolster her physical and magical defenses before she grasped her spear again. Measuring the distances carefully to ensure that her spear, if the crystal suddenly gave away, wouldn't end up skewering the women within, the spellblade took a breath, before unleashing a flurry of light blows, intent on chipping away the crystal with multiple strikes, rather than cleave it apart in a singular one.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Well that was good, the silent clown and the noblewoman weren't hostile so long as they weren't hostile. He did give the pair a once over and wasn't impressed by them. Either really agile, or magic users. His ears twitched when he heard a strange sound, like ice breaking. It was too warm for ice to be here...and it was up? He glanced up just in time to catch the disco lights from the breaking star, but not the cause of it considering pisspoor angle. And now a few seconds of loud sound, and everything was done. Then came a panicked yell making his eyes narrow. Feminine judging by the more shrill tones. He released Vani's gorget, letting him slump to the floor fully now, before crouching down. "I'm gonna investigate that yell." He said before lunging upwards. He didn't need buffs to make a good height of ten feet, and the stonework had plenty of finger holds for him. Well, more like claw holds. He pulled himself upward, his claws slipping between the gaps of the stonework, his feet only providing some slight upward push since the 'claws' of his boots were quite thick and didn't fit in the gaps as well. The further up he went the more clear peoples voices were. He quickly reached the top and carefully peered over the edge. Three women, a young looking male, and nothing else. From here he listened in, curious about what was going on since he didn't see anything particularly threatening.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- Wait, what was that sound-? The well-endowed elven mage looked up just as Kaze seemingly did, before the odd sound seemed to be followed by a spectacle that left Yinha's eyes shooting open wide. A massive burst of light that seemed to emanate from the top of the tower...where the star had fallen. Alongside the unnatural silence, it seemed somewhat more akin to the magic that her very teacher knew. Safe to say, this was something that set off some alarm bells in the Angelic Mage's mind, but even more so outright stunned her for those seconds that felt like a forever before the sound came back. And whose voice was that, which came right after in some kind of shriek?! "Is someone hurt?! Wait for me!!!" The mage called out in an almost frantic voice, giving an apologetic motion to Artemisia with her hands in haste as Vani was now placed in her care. Then the angelic summon came over, however, and picked Yinha up underneath the arms as it tried to hurriedly carry her up to the tower's top. Admittedly the summon seemed to struggle slightly, but while it wasn't on par with Kaze's climbing skills it was doing its job at least. Bit by bit the elf and her bodacious bosom moved up into the air, the angelic mage and her summon scooting up and up to try to reach the right height. Those upon the tower's top would come to eventually see a statuesque being with wings on it, carrying in its obviously struggling arms the elven mage (who wasn't bad on the eyes at least). Though as she looked at the situation, Yinha let her summon know to drop her off on the tower's top...though as soon as the message was given- "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"" Safe to say, the Guardian wasn't wanting to carry her weight more than it had to in this particular instance. Tumbling over the side, the High Elf's body pitched forward as she hit the ground and abysmally failed to stick the landing. While it was a rather negligible distance, and she wouldn't be tumbling off the top of the tower, such a sudden drop was not something she had been prepared for either. Thus, with all the grace of a caffeine-addled elephant with four left feet, Yinha ultimately fell flat on her face in front of the assembled group on the tower's top. Truly a graceful sort of beauty.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Well, if the Imperials weren't aware of shit going on before, they definitely were going to be aware of it now. As the light faded, and the celestial maiden turned out to be much less maidenly than Cecilia figured, the spearwoman turned, stepping off closer to the edge in search of any sign of immediate danger. Well, there was the Lizardman, climbing up. And there was an elf floating up as well. Locke and Arte looked like they weren't doing anything about 'em. Had a deal been struck? Or... Naw, it was probably fineeeeeee. Squatting by the edge, Cecilia waited until the Lizardman reached all the way up, poking his head up from the platform, before smiling at him. "Hello," she said, "We're actually just about to leave now, so could you move?" How long had the flash gone on for? How much time did they have before this place was teeming with military? It was a race now, for sure. A hell of a race. A sprint and a marathon, combined! Hopping up to her feet, the spearwoman slapped her calves, loosening them up, before turning back to the confused maiden. "This must be very confusing for you right now, Maiden, but understand that we mean you no harm. This kiddo here is Ciel, and that's Annabelle over there. I'm Cecilia myself, the lizard over there is a stranger, and that elf is also a stranger...so this must all be very strange for you." She chuckled, but the grip on her Ensorcelled Spear was tightening. "Imperials gonna be swarming around this place now. Not certain if a star-maiden such as you would know of them, but they're bad news and will probably want to do dirty deeds of the bloodline-boosting type to you. So it's probably in your best interest to make yourself scarce, right? Not to, y'know, presume or anything." Would really be nice if Arte or Locke sent a sign. Cecilia really wasn't certain if she should yeet the lizardman and the elf off the tower or not.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani's eyes were racing from Carpenter to the sword gradually melting through the horned girl's fingers. What...the hell was happening anymore. Nothing made sense. And, now that he got a good look at him...that scout was wearing armor that looked like it definitely wasn't from the Empire. Were...were they fighting the King's men? They were beyond screwed. BEYOND dead. They were completely, and utterly, without a doubt or shred of objection, dead as a doorknob. But, maybe a doorknob could get them out of this situation. At least, that's what Kaze's statement about Vani's shield being a "bulwark". The word "bulwark" rang in Vani's head for a moment as he looked to his battered and pierced shield, and, just as Kaze started pushing the lot of them, he came to a realization. ...Bulwark...was a pretty fancy title. One that made him feel really, really important and confident. Not because his shield was needed. Because VANI felt needed. "Leave it to me!" he would say, bolting from Kaze's reassuring (and rather forceful) push on the back and dashing forward in order to follow the path that Yeena and Sarafeye had blazed, charging forward beside Annabelle just in time to see the soldier's leader smack that poor girl across the face, only to... to...do absolutely nothing. Vani was quite confident in his ability to take hits, but...that looked like he'd just fakely swatted at her. But the way his arm moved, and stiffened at the end, that blow was full-on, and met as if he'd just slapped a boulder and acted surprised. Vani was not confident in his boulder slapping ability, but he was pretty sure that nobody on the planet could take a slap to the face that easy. Maybe this girl was some secret powerhouse, with a physique so strong that she broke grown men over her knee, and ate mountains for lunch. ...Man, that concussion was making Vani's internal omniscient narration really strange. But, they were still surrounded. Looking to the demon wielder at where she stopped, Vani immediately stepped back behind the corner while the soldiers' eyes were on Yeena and Serafeye. He didn't like these odds...but it seemed that Annabelle had a plan of sorts. But instead of having Kaze toss her up, Vani made a "shh" motion and pointed to his shield, crouching and hanging it over his head for her to step on. He'd launch her up with it as a springboard, letting her make a softer landing than she would have falling from the height that Kaze could throw her. He assumed. Kaze looked like he could throw Vani in full plate down an alley and bounce him off the wall so hard he came back halfway. ...He just hoped that the two girls in the alley were safe. He was certain that the fair elf with the attractive features wasn't some immortal un-slappable mountain of a woman, and his hands shook a little imagining innocent women getting hurt in this. "Lolan, if you can hear me...please...let the innocent make it out unscathed, and let the wicked fall to your judgement. I am ever your sword, and my strikes shall call your voice down," he prayed, head bowed in silence while waiting for his spring-bulwark to be used.</s> <\|message\|>Kaze Kaze blinked when it seemed like everyone was about to go in different directions. Still, he ushered those in front of him to follow the busty elven woman, the jester, and horned girl. Vani picked up his own pace, chasing after the women and male ahead, but the girl asked him if he could throw her to the rooftops. "Remember there are archers, girl." He said, but Vani positioned himself to act as the springboard she seemed to desire. More sounds were coming from behind, there was the unit ahead, and the leader of the squad ahead decided slapping someone full force would get him what he wanted. When someone was kneeling and defenseless, pretty much submitting, you didn't attack them because they said something you didn't like. A low animalistic growl emanated from the behemoths chest as his eyes widened. His pupils turning to slits as a red miasma started rising off his body, his barbaric Rage activating. Reaching over his shoulder he grasped the handle of his huge blade and drew it before blitzing down the alley-way. Despite his rage he did still move around the others of the group instead of bowling through them. It took a lot to enrage the reptilian man, except for certain actions. Like striking someone actually submitting since there was no reason for it. It honestly didn't even register that the woman hadn't taken any damage, just that she had been hit. Skidding while drawing his weapon back he swung the giant cleaver as if it were a great-club. A full body double handed swing as if he were aiming for a home-run combined with some of his skidding momentum at the man who had ineffectively slapped Serafaye.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Well, they were going to engage after all. Cecilia surely couldn't imagine that going poorly, even if Serafaye appeared to have a jawline made of steel by the way she took that slap to the face. No magic, and a curse that prevented her from using weaponry, but at least she knew how to take a hit, huh? Said a lot about the predilections of the celestials, truly. She cast a backwards glance towards Artemisia, who had already taken to the main road rather than go through another alleyway rundown, before grimacing. Don't split the party, the guild receptionists always said. "Arte! Over here!" The lizard man surged in like a tidal wave of muscle, looking like he definitely was going to smash through the walls of the narrow alleyway with his horizontal swipe. The elven paladin became a springboard for Annabelle, while Yinha and Serafaye still...existed. If they were gonna do it, then they were just gonna fucking do it! Cecilia let out a breath, arcane energies flowing out of her heart and to her arms, before tracing up her Ensorcelled Spear like entwining vines. The magical power concentrated on the flat of the spearhead, and Cecilia raised it outwards, pointing towards the clustered group of spearmen. "Flash." Brilliant, eye-searing light shot out at the group, hopefully blinding them and seeding enough chaos that Kaze could do his barbaric, bloody work with no reprisal. Unless the fellow turned around. That'd be a bad time. Funny, but bad. ...hopefully Annabelle could dodge arrows too.</s>
<\|description\|>Cecilia Tonitrus Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Appearance: Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5'10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who's accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. Height: 5'10 Eye Color: Amber Hair Color: Lilac Personality: In a word, Cecilia is forceful. Though technically a runaway now, she still has the presence of a daughter of nobility, overbearing and accustomed to getting what she wants. Her emotions show freely on her face, because she fears nothing at all (except for the eventuality of being caught by her parents' knights and being dragged back home). Bright ideas come to mind easily, and her personality is such that she works to get everyone else on board with her when she's gotten interested in something. The more the merrier, and Cecilia doesn't particularly mind who's on board, so long as many are on board. A natural socialite, it seems odd at first that she would have escaped the ballrooms and opera houses of the aristocratic elite to muck it out in the mud as a solo adventurer/fashion designer, but there is a thread there still. There is nothing natural about being a socialite in high society; Cecilia has only felt free and unemcumbered when chasing her dual dreams of wearing fancy dresses and slaying evil monsters. If she can accomplish the former with her own efforts, there isn't exactly much reason for her to stay around the mansion, no? She does miss her friends though, even if they were probably only pretending to be friends in order to curry favour with the Tonitrus family. Ah well, life's a journey, and a solo one at that. History The Oligarchy of Illiserev stands at the center of the world, not because of any divine ordnance or kingly command, but because they were the ones who drew the best maps, the ones who established the most illustrious Cartographer's Guild on the continent. Adventurers know Illiserev as the Forge of Explorers. Merchants know Illiserev as the End of All Paths. The grand Cephora Mountain Range upon which Illiserev's capital city is built at the base of feeds a network of rivers that stretch out towards the rest of the continent, and this forms the backbone of Illiserev's trade. With well-paved roads leading towards the kingdom and fast-flowing rivers leading out from the kingdom, the merchant-aristocrats of Illiserev boast wealth that would make the nobility of other nations green with envy, and the dozens of trade agreements Illiserev has between various kingdoms and principalities has shielded it from military conflict. Though various religious or knightly orders may be displeased with the cutthroat machinations of the wealthy merchant-aristocrats, no one has yet to truly act upon their displeasure: some small evils can easily be overlooked in favor of the pleasures and novelties brought forth in the wagons of Illiserev's wagons. Cecilia Tonitrus, thirdborn daughter of the illustrious Duke Sarkuz Tonitrus, was never all that interested in the schemes and politics of her peers, however. Charming and generous, with a penchant for reading heroic tales, the young lady was pampered by her servants and guards growing up, taken on excursions throughout the nation. Her father didn't particularly care; he focused his attention on his heirs, Cecilia's older siblings, leaving her to do as she wished. So long as she didn't bring shame upon her family, the thirdborn was allowed to indulge in whatever her spoiled self desired. She threw grand tea parties, learned arts both martial and arcane, decked herself in beautiful dresses she'd discard the day after, ran amok through the estate grounds, and was generally the weirdest mixture of a dainty lady with fine taste in clothing and a rambunctious tomboy who thought herself as invincible. That changed, though, when the Tonitrus heirs were slain, assassinated. The culprit committed suicide rather than risk capture, and suddenly, Sarkuz decided that he could not be so lax with his children. Before the grieving period had even passed, the amount of guards that oversaw the protection of his children practically tripled, and suddenly, they weren't able to go anywhere beyond the walls of the main estate. Cecilia hated that. She hated it even more that the whole business of the assassination was swept under the rug by her father, who still valued public opinion enough that he chose to keep quiet, rather than appear as an incompetent protector to his peers in asking for their aid. As those emotional wounds became scabs, scars, Cecilia's sense of suffocation grew and grew. The freedom in her childhood was no more, even though she should be more free as an adolescent, and she yearned for it enough that she wanted to scream. Instead, she waited, watched, memorized, reconsidered, and pulled everything together. Her freedom was selfish and inconsiderate, an act that would only cause her father's hair to whiten further, but she would pursue it anyways. One night, she slipped away from her estate and ran as far as she could. She never stopped. Level: 20 Class: Spellblade Profession: Seamstress [Novice] Performer [Journeyman] Stats: Strength (STR): C Vitality (VIT): D Dexterity (DEX): B Intellect (iNT): B Wisdom (WIS): D Charisma (CHA): C List of Immunities: N/A Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: N/A Equipment: Ensorcelled Spear - A winged spear, 2.5 meters in length. Well-made and finely balanced, with arcane conduits inscribed upon the haft to let it function as a spellcasting focus. Blasted Wand - A wand made from the branch of a lightning-struck tree, or so the maker of it claims. Relatively cheap, but serves its purpose as a back up. Combat Dress - Customized for greater aesthetic flair by Cecilia. Though it looks much more visually pleasing, it has the functionality of well-made leather armor. Travelling Boots - Sturdy boots that increases the movement speed of the wearer. An adventurer's staple. Skills & Spells: Returnerer - Passive. All objects thrown by Cecilia, if empowered by her magic, will return to her hand after striking their target. Travels at the same speed they were thrown at, and takes the straightest path possible, accounting for terrain but not accounting for moving objects. Storm's Boon - Empower one's weapon with lightning, increasing damage and adding a paralytic effect that increases with each consecutive hit. When thrown, the weapon discharges residual lightning on impact to create a small blast, before flying back into the wielder's hands. Zephyrus Aria - Surround one's self with a flowing armor of wind, redirecting physical blows and ranged attacks. When released, generates a burst of wind outwards, blowing everyone around one's self away. Does not protect against energy-based magical attacks. Lightning Bolt - Unleash a bolt of lightning from one's hand or spellcasting focus, capable of sundering all that lay in its path with thunderous force. A powerful spell with a steep cost, but most definitely Cecilia's trump card in terms of destructive power. Accelerate - Enhances speed and perception, making one faster and more precise. Don't leave home without this. Double Jump - Jump in the air twice. Useful when platforming.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...Dangit Paladin. It wasn't hard to hear what was going on, and to get the gist of events from that. Miss Serafaye had already once again tossed herself out there, this time as the apparently weapons-invulnerable 'bait' in this particular turn of events. But now THAT STUPID SUICIDAL LIZARD Kaze had thrown himself into the mix to fight again as well! It was enough they had someone already burning their mana out, but now this FOOL was once again trying to pincushion himself? On top of that, Vani had apparently run out there and begun shouting about a woman (she was assuming Miss Serafaye) being a monster and...eating the jellies of their eyes?! What in the name of the gods was that idiot thinking! Or rather, he wasn't thinking it seemed. That made far too much more sense than it being just a stupid plan, after all, when it came to the man as far as she'd been able to understand him so far. The more she hung around this lot, the more things just seemed to get crazy. Even so, she wasn't going to abandon wounded and those in danger in this situation. At least if she could help it! "I swear if that idiot-" Yinha muttered to herself before quickly casting a spell, trying to minimize her expenditure with what mana she had. They all couldn't afford to burn out, after all, but neither was she useful if she left the smoke either. She could cast this, at least, but the last little bit...it had to be kept for healing at all costs. Her Alchemy kit could only go so far to make some healing tonics and ilk for after this. Within the smoke, a small magic circle appeared in the air once again briefly as once more an Authority emerged. This time it was holding an angelic looking halberd, but to the enemy soldiers all they would see is a very faint glow from within the smoke before the angel emerged from it at them at a full charge. Its feet clacked on the stones, and some kind of unintelligible or alien roar seemed to screech from its helmet as it tried to blitz the nearest soldier in a fury. Maybe it would be able to help some, since it wasn't some dumb incapable zombie, but whatever it could do beneficially in this case would hopefully be good for the overall situation. Besides, what was scarier than a lot of craziness going on than a holy light glowing suit of armor charging out of smoke and letting out horrible sounds as it moved to strike down the nearest soldier with its halberd?</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Like Locke, Artemisia wasn't particularly in a position to do much more than what she was already doing. She might have put up her shields somewhat prematurely, but she was somebody who wasn't particularly fond of leaving things to chance. So, she had the shields up before moving up to where she could actually be somewhat useful, not wanting to be riddled full of arrows before properly setting up. Of course, she was beginning to think it was all a terrible idea to be protecting these people, since they were all so incredibly insane. To think that she had cast herself in with this lot… it did seem to be working, though. Even if she wanted to help the rest of the party in properly ridding them of the imperial nuisance, however, she couldn't really cast any more spells. She could, in theory, charge out with her horse swinging her puny sword around at the armored soldiers, but that was an obviously suicidal tactic. Artemisia wasn't prone to suicidal tactics, unlike some certain people that were in front of her.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani hadn't really expected much from thsi plan to begin with. After all, battle hardened soldiers were just as likely to skewer a civilian for fear of them being a spy than listen to their warnings. Thankfully, Kaze had more muscle than he did brains as he spied the lizardman blitz forward, injuries and all. ...What an idiot. The pot calling the kettle black would, after Kaze's charge, bolt forward after getting on his knees for a proper running start. The smoke kept the archers at bay, and with their attention divided the soldiers that did see Vani coming wouldn't have the time they needed to rally against him. One-on-one, he was more than a match for the run-of-the-mill soldier, but even if the odds were six-on-one, the panic furthered his advantage. He was probably able to take on like...a whole army. The math doesn't lie. Math Vani cannot do. What he could do however was finally stop talking and start cutting, his sword now bared against the enemy as the combined force of him, Kaze, Yinha's angelic soldier, and the unstoppable Serafaye crashed into them like a wave. A soldier that was attacking Kaze met his end, and in his place Vani would emerge, cutting into the side of one of the spearmen, then another. "Its rude to ignore other people's advice, you know!" he shouted, hoping that a way to deal with the archers would present itself amidst the smoke. He didn't have a nice way up...but he could act as a springboard for someone else. Someone that wasn't Kaze, given his immense size.</s>	<\|message\|>Cecilia Tonitrus It was a regular old party now, wasn't it? A party of the hella violent, generally murderous, and sorta overwhelming part. With the strength of his sheer brawn, the lizardman continued to mow through groups of soldiers at once, flinging them around like a petulant child with a house of dolls. Serafaye looked to be encouraged by this as well, utilizing her even more impossible strength to flatout toss them at each other like bowling balls. Gratuitious violence all around, truly. The spellblade gave a backwards glance at Locke and Arte, an uncertain smile budding over her features. The developments that have passed...hm. Better to stop thinking about this! Deciding rather arbitrarily that this is the Final Battle For Their Freedom, Cecilia looked out through Locke's smoke towards the archers still positioned on the wall. If they had been more spread out, that woulda sucked, but considering the position her allies were holding, there wouldn't have been line-of-sight if they hadn't clumped up a bit. Vani made her plenty of projectiles, Yinha summoned something brilliantly horrifying, and Kaze did what he did best, holding the frontline so that Cecilia could retrieve the spearheads that he had shattered off the hafts. She calculated for distance, set the timing in her head, and, planting her spear into the ground, filled her new projectiles with her magic. Lightning crackled over their surfaces and they numbed her fingers as she grabbed them by the tips of the blade. "Maybe I should get a bow some time..." Cecilia murmured. But maybe she had been solo adventuring so long that she forgot spellblades were more or less expected to fill any role necessary in a composition? Sighting the archers in the distance, the bladethrower drew her arm back and began to hurl magically-charged projectiles at those misfortunate soldiers, more forcing them to take cover or reposition rather than actually kill or maim them. Each spearhead that missed would curve back, flying into her outstretched palm as Cecilia set a steady rhythm, practically juggling five spearheads into the Imperials on the top of the wall. "Locke, when we break out, shift your smoke up onto the wall!"</s>
<\|description\|>Vani Silverstream Age: 57 Gender: Male Race: Wood Elf Artist Credit: 純珪一 Height: 6'7" Eye Color: Orange Hair Color: White Personality. When someone thinks of a paladin, the last person they might think of would be Vani. In place of chivalry he holds revelry to be his core tenement, seeking enjoyment wherever he goes. He's a lover of wine, women, and boasts, holding the firm belief that any adventure is worth having so long as its enjoyable. He may shirk duties that he finds loathsome, but when it comes to having a swordarm at your back, worse than Vani exist out there. He is loyal to those who show him respect, and despite his negative qualities at least understands that a paladin exists to protect people from evil. If Vani suspects that he can help with a problem, he'll offer his services immediately, boasting that it would likely pose no threat to a man of his caliber. ...Put simply, he's a pain in the neck. History: Wheras most paladins enter their service through tenements of fate, Vani entered it from a childish fit. At the ripe young age of 46. Born the son of a blacksmith and without a mother figure beyond his third year, Vani always resented the simple life that he was born into. As such, he'd try to escape from under the thumb of his father as soon as he worked up the nerve. The simple village of Marinkarn was one that had a rich store of iron present in its mines. Simple farmers, miners, and a few merchants made there home there. It was an idyllic, simple little village...which made it terribly dull to one with such grand ideas of adventure and wanderlust as Vani. He'd admittedly come to love the place, and later in his life would regret leaving in the way he did. But, for his ends, he abandoned it as soon as he had enough money to ensure that he could travel. Running away with one of his father's swords, Vani would enter the service of the church of Lolan, Goddess of Celebration, Storms, and Weddings. It was a simple enough procedure, but it would create a rift between Vani and his father that has lasted for years to come. The reason he chose this church is, frankly, the most selfish one can imagine. As the Goddess of Celebration and Weddings, Lolan's followers are not barred from the usual prohibition placed on clergy for its members to marry and have children. It was a very selfish reason, but Vani always figured that someday he'd settle down with a nice girl after he got the adventure out of his bloodstream. Maybe get stupid rich and famous while he was at it. While Vani had always been a bit of a vulgar and lazy sort of person, the sheer contempt he held for his noble "betters" in service of Lolan drove him to better himself...at least, in terms of ability. Born lame in the brain, Vani would instead focus all his talents on swordplay and training, seeking to become a man worthy of being knighted in full as a paladin. Sadly, due to a mix of his own loose tongue and his inability to master some of the more intermediate paladin spells, he was passed over for the Rite of Advancement. Left behind by his brothers and frustrated with himself, Vani would leave the Church on an unofficial pilgrimage, feeling that he had wasted ten years of his life, and wanted to finally go out and seek adventure on his own terms. Strangely, despite leaving the church improperly he is still capable of using the spells of their order. Perhaps it is because he never lost his faith in her, but rather the tenements of her followers, Vani is still considered to be under the watchful eyes of the Storm Queen. Now, having wandered around for a year on his own, Vani has accumulated a bit of adventuring experience at his own pace. ...Of course, now he was shunned by his brothers, not welcome back home due to leaving his father high and dry, running tavern tabs out on towns that he couldn't afford to drink in at the first place, but...y'know...at least he's killing a few goblin nests here and there. And so the fool of a paladin would march on to the beat of his own drum, unbound by his church, and lacking any home to call his own. ----- Level: 19 Class: Paladin Profession: Blacksmith Stats: Stats are rated by a letter-system, with worst to best being as follows; F, E, D, C, B, A, S. An 'average' adult human, with no martial training and no proper education has rank F in generally all their stats) Strength (STR): B Vitality (VIT): A Dexterity (DEX): D Intellect (INT): F (Technically an E in terms of actual education, but he's a bona fide idiot.) Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): B List of immunities: Sleep, Magical Charm Resistances: Lightning Weaknesses: Necrotic, Illusions, Physical Charm Equipment: Steel Longsword: A basic sword the likes of which you could find just about anywhere. The handguard is custom however, having been forged by Vani's father. Any future sword that he would recieve, he would put this handguard on it. Kite Shield of Lolan: A shield emblazoned with the holy symbol of Lolan, Goddess of Revelry and Storms. There's nothing really exceptional about it, but its clear from looking at it that it has been well-maintained and treasured by the one who uses it. Paladin's Ensemble: A mixture of chainmail, tabard, plate gauntlets, and pauldrons that show that Vani is well armored. He would have a helmet, but in anime land helmets are just a friendly suggestion. Ring of the Apprentice: A ring traditionally worn by fledgling mages that enables one to regenerate their MP faster. It was gifted to Vani by his mentor to..."help" with his inability to cast more than a few spells before running dry. Amulet of the Storm: A holy symbol worn around the neck that provides a boost to the user's lightning damage spells. Skills & Spells: Thundering Smite: A wreath of electricity is called down from the heavens to the user's weapon, imbuing it with holy power for a short number of strikes. Because of Vani's relatively low mana pool, he enjoys using this in short bursts during combat as it ends the fight a hell of a lot faster if the other guy is a smoldering charred mess. Lay on Hands: The most basic of healing spells. Paladins are not clerics, and as such generally are not taught much of the healing arts beyond this spell. The user transfers a bit of their stamina into healing magic that must be delivered via direct contact. Vani scarcely uses this. Challenge of the Adherent of Thunder: A technique learned by the defenders of mirth that is effectively a taunt. Except really loud. Duelist: Vani is relatively skilled at swordplay, and is more than capable of going toe to toe with someone of similar strength compared to him.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...Were it not for seeing the wisdom in Kaze's plan, the High Elf might've continued to fume at him for even trying to suggest a plan after PAINFULLY WOUNDING HIMSELF MORE TO KEEP MOVING. Or maybe she was still fuming over what Kaze had done. Either way Cecilia also seemed to have a good point about the alleys as well, though Vani's words and the idea of smashing through walls again made her almost ready to bark out at how that "was a terrible no good very bad idea". But as much as the situation felt overwhelming in its own ways, and mixture of big and little things, Yinha did her best to breath subtly and calmly to keep herself in the game. Yes. If they could move silently- Wait. Where was Miss Serafaye going? No, no no no no no! That was not the plan! Not that they had all agreed on a plan, for goddess' sake, but why was she going towards the Imperial soldiers?! Blast it all-...Oh? The masked man at least had the tact to toss up a smokescreen. Though as Locke collapsed to take a knee, the Angelic Mage felt a certain sense of pity rise up in her. She'd cast a few spells, and while she was feeling it...wasn't like she was depleted entirely either. Perhaps it had been a bit deceptive to get help for Vani from one of the others at the tower, in particular that more regal-looking magic user woman, but while she felt a little guilty she'd also wanted to save mana for later in case they needed it! Whether it had been her and Kaze being attacked by these others, or the Imperial soldiers, keeping at least one potential healer with enough energy and ability to cast was a good tactical advantage to try to maintain! But now was not the time to, er, debate such things internally or otherwise. Yinha looked over at Kaze, pointing two of her fingers on one hand in a "V" shape at her own eyes before pointing them around at Kaze. A wordless way to tell him "i am keeping an eye on your self-harming idiot self". She then quickly began to move, seeking to not fall behind as she made use of the new smokescreen. If they could take out the Archers, that would be a good start for things perhaps. Unless this odd woman who seemed to be from another plane of existence or something slapped these soldiers into submission too. As odd as it was...Yinha almost found herself preferring such an option to more of the rest of them getting pin-cushioned at the moment. Hopefully they'd all get out of here sooner than later, and get a chance to breathe at least.</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Although there were still some flaws with the plan that they crafted together, Artemisia thought it was a good one for the amount of time they had to make it. The risk was high, but there was a good chance that they could make it out without incurring too high of a loss. The strange girl's unexpected strength would be their saviors… and more importantly, Artemisia's. What she didn't expect was for the dumb girl to start charging away at an impressive breakneck speed. The plan had called for a pretty good charge, but it had to involve careful timing and the entire party keeping pace. In a moment, she was gone. And shortly after, she was back. With an army at her heels. And not her army. "This was not in the plan!" She screamed, reacting at the approaching soldiers simultaneously. Although by this time, like her fellow allies, she was gradually suffering from exhaustion, she mustered up the strength to shield the party with her spells. Invoking a brief chant, a domed, semi-opaque blue wall appeared in front of them, supplementing the soft cover that Locke had provided with his smokescreen. Smoke would do little to contain attacks from arrows or spears though; she strained to stretch the protection to all angles that the archers could shoot from, but the effort was fatiguing. Thankfully for Artemisia, she was seated relatively comfortably on a saddled horse, so she wouldn't fall even if she lost her strength. Although, if she somehow passed out, that was another thing entirely. "Best if we all finished those archers off now. Our spells and projectiles can pass through, but I'm not going to be able to hold a shield this wide at this rate." She grimaced, but began to spur her horse forward into a better position in the smokescreen. She just hoped they didn't begin to camp in there, because even if the situation had changed, they still need to get a proper move on.</s>	<\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Well, okay, so they weren't exactly punching a wall...but something was certainly happening! ...But, judging from everyone's reactions, Serafaye was definitely not following the plan in mind. She'd managed to draw away a good portion of the guard away, but there wasn't anything they could really do now against the horde still remaining. Gritting his teeth, Vani would get ready to charge ahead before he heard the sound of a knee hitting the ground hard. ...Their spellcasters were running on empty, and Vani would loathe to admit it, but all this fighting and running was getting him winded. Especially since he was wearing heavier armor than probably the entire group combined. He probably could manage a single smite, but after that who knows if he'd just pass out again after minor exertion. Just as he reached out to help Locke up though, the man stood. He was tougher than Vani would give a spellcaster credit for. Looking towards the archers remaining on the wall, Vani would have an idea. Well "idea" was an exaggeration, since it was more of a gamble at this point honestly. Looking back to Yinha, he would smile, and throw a wink her way. "If you can still manage to summon it, use that angel to help Kaze move. I'm going in," he said, leaning Kaze so that he wouldn't fall before drawing his sword and stepping forward through the smoke-screen. He couldn't count on Kaze, injured as he was, to throw him atop the wall. As such, Vani only had one recourse in mind. Suddenly throwing himself to the ground, Vani purposefully scrapped his face against the dirt, taking his sword and lightly cutting the fabric of his tabard before doubling back in a nearby alleyway and quite literally crawling out of it. Reaching a hand out towards the guards, he would use his gods-given booming voice to let out a cry of absolute terror. "A BEAST! A BEAST! A MONSTER IN WOMAN'S FORM!" he screamed, just loud enough to get their attention while pointing at the direction that Serafaye and her entourage of soldiers that were soon to be slapped to submission had gone. The dirt from before was clotting in his eye, eliciting tears that conveniently played up his B rank acting skills as he said: "THE SHE-DEVIL, SHE SLAUGHTERED HUNDREDS OF US! SHE EATS THE BONES OF MEN, AND SUCKS UPON THE JELLIES OF THEIR EYES!" he groaned, steadily crawling forward, not moving his legs an inch to give the impression that he had been badly hurt. "Quickly! Your men will perish if you don't assist them! She...she defiled countless soldiers...so many dead...so many quiet screams..." If Vani couldn't charge straight in, then he could damn well try and make sure that their attention was split. His shield was still strapped to his arm, battered as it was, so if any archer decided to shoot, he could protect himself. He'd only attack if they struck first here, since he wanted them to earnestly believe his act as he "quivered" in fear, trying to buy the others an opportunity to either charge, or get away. ...That or he'd just die in the dirt like a buffoon.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Annabelle There was no point in trying to keep up with a horse, and so when Carpenter returned to her side, once more in the form of a canine, Annabelle took off for the larger group. Strength in numbers, and all that, never mind the fact that Serafaye was being roped along by Yinha down the alley anyways. Dashing off to try catching up to the trio, she came to halt as she rounded a corner and found them accosted by a wall of spearmen. Annabelle hugged the corner, eyes peering around the side just in time to catch the sight of a much larger man's hand stopping short of Serafaye's face. It looked and sounded as if he had smashed his hand into the side of a stone pillar. Perhaps... that was where the girl's strengths shined. Still, being unable to carry a weapon or cast magic, she was still just dead weight, much as she'd be able to shrug off anything else coming for her, from what she could tell. Besides the spearwall before them, the scout group from the main road might end up finding them there as well, pinching them in the alleyway. They needed some kind of trick or strategy... fast. "Big lizard man... do you think you could toss me onto the roof? Or at least give me a boost? If I can get behind them... maybe... maybe I can disrupt them enough to make for a better way forward. It's... all I can think of. Or perhaps, bind them before they notice me with some magic."</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Vani's eyes were racing from Carpenter to the sword gradually melting through the horned girl's fingers. What...the hell was happening anymore. Nothing made sense. And, now that he got a good look at him...that scout was wearing armor that looked like it definitely wasn't from the Empire. Were...were they fighting the King's men? They were beyond screwed. BEYOND dead. They were completely, and utterly, without a doubt or shred of objection, dead as a doorknob. But, maybe a doorknob could get them out of this situation. At least, that's what Kaze's statement about Vani's shield being a "bulwark". The word "bulwark" rang in Vani's head for a moment as he looked to his battered and pierced shield, and, just as Kaze started pushing the lot of them, he came to a realization. ...Bulwark...was a pretty fancy title. One that made him feel really, really important and confident. Not because his shield was needed. Because VANI felt needed. "Leave it to me!" he would say, bolting from Kaze's reassuring (and rather forceful) push on the back and dashing forward in order to follow the path that Yeena and Sarafeye had blazed, charging forward beside Annabelle just in time to see the soldier's leader smack that poor girl across the face, only to... to...do absolutely nothing. Vani was quite confident in his ability to take hits, but...that looked like he'd just fakely swatted at her. But the way his arm moved, and stiffened at the end, that blow was full-on, and met as if he'd just slapped a boulder and acted surprised. Vani was not confident in his boulder slapping ability, but he was pretty sure that nobody on the planet could take a slap to the face that easy. Maybe this girl was some secret powerhouse, with a physique so strong that she broke grown men over her knee, and ate mountains for lunch. ...Man, that concussion was making Vani's internal omniscient narration really strange. But, they were still surrounded. Looking to the demon wielder at where she stopped, Vani immediately stepped back behind the corner while the soldiers' eyes were on Yeena and Serafeye. He didn't like these odds...but it seemed that Annabelle had a plan of sorts. But instead of having Kaze toss her up, Vani made a "shh" motion and pointed to his shield, crouching and hanging it over his head for her to step on. He'd launch her up with it as a springboard, letting her make a softer landing than she would have falling from the height that Kaze could throw her. He assumed. Kaze looked like he could throw Vani in full plate down an alley and bounce him off the wall so hard he came back halfway. ...He just hoped that the two girls in the alley were safe. He was certain that the fair elf with the attractive features wasn't some immortal un-slappable mountain of a woman, and his hands shook a little imagining innocent women getting hurt in this. "Lolan, if you can hear me...please...let the innocent make it out unscathed, and let the wicked fall to your judgement. I am ever your sword, and my strikes shall call your voice down," he prayed, head bowed in silence while waiting for his spring-bulwark to be used.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze Kaze blinked when it seemed like everyone was about to go in different directions. Still, he ushered those in front of him to follow the busty elven woman, the jester, and horned girl. Vani picked up his own pace, chasing after the women and male ahead, but the girl asked him if he could throw her to the rooftops. "Remember there are archers, girl." He said, but Vani positioned himself to act as the springboard she seemed to desire. More sounds were coming from behind, there was the unit ahead, and the leader of the squad ahead decided slapping someone full force would get him what he wanted. When someone was kneeling and defenseless, pretty much submitting, you didn't attack them because they said something you didn't like. A low animalistic growl emanated from the behemoths chest as his eyes widened. His pupils turning to slits as a red miasma started rising off his body, his barbaric Rage activating. Reaching over his shoulder he grasped the handle of his huge blade and drew it before blitzing down the alley-way. Despite his rage he did still move around the others of the group instead of bowling through them. It took a lot to enrage the reptilian man, except for certain actions. Like striking someone actually submitting since there was no reason for it. It honestly didn't even register that the woman hadn't taken any damage, just that she had been hit. Skidding while drawing his weapon back he swung the giant cleaver as if it were a great-club. A full body double handed swing as if he were aiming for a home-run combined with some of his skidding momentum at the man who had ineffectively slapped Serafaye.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Serafaye Forgotten Ruins, East roads & alleys The thing about heavily disciplined and formation-based soldiers is that once their trained, tried and true formations and tactics fall apart, they don't have the creativity or ingenuity to improvise. For this reason, once they begin to buckle, they tend to do so at a very rapid pace. Such was the fate befalling the Galanon Imperial soldiers in this particular alley of the ruins. With their commanding officer down and out for the fight, their spearwall broken by a single girl and their archers now being assaulted from above by two heavenly valkyries, the entire unit was crumbling, both physically and mentally. Add onto that the flinging of spells from a horse-mounted witch, and the interference caused by a masked degenerate, and you had a recipe for a panic-inducing soup of the day. The addition of a raving, yelling and bloodthirsty elf, proclaiming the descent of his Goddess' avatar, didn't exactly make things any less stressful or confusing for the unfortunate troops caught between weatherowrn walls and a group of rag-tag marauders that were somehow winning this fight. Petty officers and brash youths who wanted to prove themselves shouted conflicting orders and iunstructio0ns to their brethren, it was a complete mess. Eventually, between their own inability to regroup, and the constant pressure put on by the adventurers, the Galanon forces eventually broke. Those in the back turned tail and fled out towards the main road, while those caught in battle dropped the weapons and tried to escape by any means they could, climbing small walls, leaping into ruined windows and so and so forth. It was a sad display, and would have sent great shame through their General's very soul, had he been there to witness the spectacle. Fortunately, for everyone involved, he was not. Still, with their enemies fleeing and the path ahead now opening up, Serafaye let out a sigh of relief. Not so much that the fight was over, but that she didn't need to hurt anyone anymore. After all, having seen her own strength after punching that one fellow had left a sour taste in her mouth. What if she'd hit his head? She could've sent it tearing off his shoulders... Sure, thexe guys had attacked them, but they hadn't managed to even hurt her... So fighting and killing them waws kinda like kicking a baby, except meaner. She turned to her fellows, the lizard and paladin-elf, then looked at the two roof-diving heroines, and finally back at the three spellcasters safely over in the other end of the alley. "I... I uh, guess we won? Huzzah?" She said, with uncertain half-enthusiasm. "Guessing they'll be back though, huh? They don't seem like the kinda folks who'd just give up." She said... Not actually confident in that statement at all. After all, she didn't know jack squat about these people or their determination to see things through... It was just a phrase one said though. And, as it turned out, was indeed accurate! While the soldiers of the beaten squad retreated and reunited with their fellows beyond the alleys, the group now had a clear path ahead of them - so long as they stayed in the alleyways. After all, it wasn't like the Imperial army had stationed squads of troops in every single backstreet - as they'd advanced, they'd also moved their blockades, encircling the center of the ruins. But now that the blockade in the this particular part of the alleys was broken, there was no obstacle ahead of them - at least not yet. If they hurried and didn't dawdle, the possibility of reaching the east-most gate without any further confrontations was a very real possibility! Of course, that required that they move swiftly, and avoided needless side-trips or distractions. Even then, the east gate still had a few guards posted at it, though it was likely the least defended of the gates, as it was the furthest away from the Imperial main force. Serafaye, on the other hand, didn't seem to be in any rush or realize the need for speed, as she walked on over to the big lizard-bro and looked him up and down. "You okay, bro? You got stuff sticking outta your bod... Anyone got any pliers?" She said, and asked, looking around.</s> <\|message\|>Yinha Karathros Yinha Karathros --- ...So, just what was this girl again? Nullifying physical damage like that and pimp-slapping enemies into submission with such weak moves was rather high-tier from her knowledge, and that usually tended to be a trait of divine beings or super overpowered special named angels that could only be summoned down by some pretty super high tier rituals and only if they wanted to come. She was pretty far from that right now. She was sure no one in the world was close to that right now. More so, she was more and more sure this girl was from another world entirely between her odd speaking and terms and strange abilities so far. Literally. What educated mage in their right mind wouldn't assume that?! Even so, it seemed her current 'allies' were done mopping up the Empire's soldiers. Albeit there had been a lot to take in, and a lot going at them, and a strange girl had just broken the soldiers's weapons with a simple slap among other things like a crazy shouting paladin. Did she blame them for running? Not at all. Did Yinha feel that this was a great chance to get out of here? Very much yes. "I can help!" The High Elf called out as she quickly ran over, examining the Lizardman's wounds after first glancing forward to make sure the enemy's flight wasn't 'temporary'. "I can at least seal the wounds and get them healing once the projectiles are pulled out, but more importantly perhaps need to keep moving right now while we have the chance," Yinha said, before glancing over at Serafaye as an idea quickly came to mind, "When we get a chance, perhaps you could remove them out more with your strength? If you are comfortable wish such I mean. But we do need to get moving quickly, in case more soldiers try to cut us off that is, as I do not think any of us are as...sheerly durable as yourself from the look of things." Not the most optimal thing to ask someone with untrained hands, but her magic could keep up with the injuries and keep helping Kaze briefly as they moved. Unless the big chopping Lizardman with his sword and strength felt he could make it father before they should do that? Frankly her concern over the injuries was more immediately balanced out with the pressing desire for them to keep moving. Albeit, the great amount of concern over 'who' and 'what' and 'how' in regards to this girl and the rest of this group would be sitting on the backburner for the moment. Words weren't her strong suit right now.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze After Kaze's thorough demolition of the three guards for the...captain? He turned his furious gaze to the rest of the soldiers who were pushed back, punched, murder-stroked, and just plain butchered by the stronger adventurer's. It didn't take long for the soldiers to break rank and start fleeing the bloodbath since there was a bit of shouting from Vani, him just ignoring the damage dealt to him, the invincible star-child, and the teamwork the others were performing. Hell they seemed to work better together than the actual military units they were fighting. With them fleeing he started to force himself to calm down, reining in his rage so it just bubbled beneath the mental surface. Serafaye let out a lackluster huzzah before Kaze shrugged. "That unit is done, but their military on a whole is pretty persistent. They have the numbers to be that way." He rumbled out as he was about to proceed. But the partial dragon girl questioned his well-being before asking about pliers. "I'm fine for now, we can deal with this later." The behemoth said, nodding an acknowledgement to Yinha. A flick of his blade sent the blood on it flying off before he sheathed it. This is going to hurt... He thought as he grabbed the sword that was sticking in his gut firmly and with a growl shoved it fully through so the guard was against his scales. Of course the arming sword went out his back, which he bent down to keep it secured. The others could see the muscles in his jaw flex and shift from the clenching of his teeth while he snapped the shafts of the arrows to make the pain spread around. There was enough wood left to use to pull them out later. As long as he didn't rip them out now he'd be fine, no point making open wounds and potentially ripping up important muscles. Those gray eyes kept ahead as he started to trudge. "Lets...lets keep moving." Kaze said, a little winded from pretty much hurting himself by moving blades through his body and stabbing himself.</s>
<\|description\|>Kaze Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Lizardman Appearance: Height: 7'4 Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Black Horns Personality. Kaze is a very practical being in full control of his emotions...for the most part. A lot of people see him as a cold and emotionless being due to his reptilian nature. But that's what he lets the public see. When he's not in large crowds he's far more open, laughing, teasing, messing with others. He was probably just shy since so many eyes tended to be drawn to him, either his size, his coloration, his build, the big honking sword on his back. Unfortunately every light makes a shadow. He's a willful headstrong warrior with some...anger issues. He's used to getting his way due to his experience in the harsh swamps, he doesn't take no very well, and if his fuse is lit its best to stay out of his furious way. History: Kaze was hatched and raised in the southern swamp-lands. The humid water-table had numerous names but the one that stuck to it most Dark Wetlands, mostly because the trees and the moss that hung from their branches blocked out so much light. It was almost always twilight in that muck filled area. Here he grew up, in the darker areas with little to no dry ground. Living in such a harsh environment, poisonous plants and animals, vicious boars, and who knew what else, made for a hard people. Food was plentiful if you knew what you were looking for, or built your resistances to poisons. Kaze, already a pretty big lizardman, thrived in the environment. He seemed to have started earlier than others, already resistant to poisons and diseases. The elders assumed it was because of his white color, so unnatural among the greens and browns of his brethren. During some scouting in the swamp Kaze stumbled across some decomposing corpses of a creature he had never seen before. Bipedal, clothed, strong armor, better weaponry. He had found human corpses, rifling through their stuff, all too small for his people except for children, he found a strange parchment. It had a huge picture on it. It was a map, his own people had made a crude one to show the territories of the other tribes. But this one showed so much more, a massive landmass with his homeland in a small corner of it. Kaze of course brought everything but the bodies back and showed it to the elders. Everything would find a use except the books really, none of them spoke the human tongue let alone read it. Kaze kept the map though, looking it over whenever he had a minute to himself. He huge being was getting a sense to explore, was it youth? Curiosity? Maybe a sense to expand and conquer? Only he really knew, and so he told the elders of his tribe his plans. To explore, learn, and bring back knowledge to better the tribe. Already the newest clutch of younglings have emerged from their eggs, ready to be raised and bolster the tribe. So with that they let him go, on the condition he'd come back every year to help the tribe in the wars with other lizardmen. It established hierarchy among them so it wasn't an all out slaughter-fest. With their blessing he left, off to explore the world! That was several years ago. His gained knowledge has strengthened his people, he basically became their champion. His gear and technique helping make him the strongest lizardman in the Dark Wetlands. But still he explored outside of his homeland, he wanted to see the world and he had plenty of time to see it! ----- Level: 20 Class: Barbarian Monk Profession: Metal Worker: Able to do basic repairs and upkeep on low tier metallic equipment. Materials like copper, bronze, iron, and steel. Stats: Strength (STR): S Vitality (VIT): B Dexterity (DEX): C Intellect (iNT): D Wisdom (WIS): C Charisma (CHA): E List of immunities:* Poison: Immune to poisons of all sorts Resistances:* Disease: Swamps are full of nastiness, he's been sick more than his fair share which has built up his system so it's harder for him to catch anything. * Fire: He's a reptile, he likes a good bit of warmth! So fire damage is lessened on him since his body naturally absorbs some of the heat. * Physical Damage: He has taken a lot of damage over the years, so his body has toughened up so some physical damage is mitigated. Weaknesses:* Cold: Being of a reptilian nature he has a big weakness to the cold. Going into hibernation, and eventually dying from prolonged exposure. Equipment:* Shocking Big Sword: A rather large well crafted sword that can be used two handed or one hand thanks to his impressive strength. He has had it imbued with some shocking element * Open Armor: A set of armor that's very open in the torso while protecting the limbs with thick plating. Offers good defense without sacrificing too much mobility. * Half Necklace: a strange necklace that wraps around the back of his neck with two glowing gems at his throat. Each gem is imbued, one increases his Strength, the other gem increases his Dexterity. Skills & Spells:* Smash: Channeling energy into a strike he makes it his nearly three times harder, whether it's a weapon or his body. * Combo Blows: He assaults a single opponent relentlessly, combing multiple strikes to deal more damage. * Frenzy: When he gets royally pissed off he flies into a murderous frenzy, boosting his Strength and Vitality, but making him reckless and sometimes friendly fire happens. * Sunder: A classic melee move, it charges a weapon with energy that lowers the armor class of an opponent, sometimes even breaking the struck gear entirely. * Defensive Stance: He covers his vitals more, making damage on him lessened and also making his own attacks weaker. * Invulnerable Body: Increases his natural defenses by 1.5 times, making his body feel like someone was striking and iron block. * Pace of Wind: A boost to move speed, increasing his pace by 1.5 times. * Flow Acceleration: Affects the nerves so he reacts faster, attacks faster, and moves faster. Stacks with other buffs and increases the reactions and speeds by double. * Critical Eye: A 'passive' ability that improves his chance to get a critical hit by a little bit. * Dark Vision: He can see in low light as if it were day. In complete darkness he can see as if it were low light.</s> <\|message\|>Artemisia de Chauret Artemisia de Chauret Although there were still some flaws with the plan that they crafted together, Artemisia thought it was a good one for the amount of time they had to make it. The risk was high, but there was a good chance that they could make it out without incurring too high of a loss. The strange girl's unexpected strength would be their saviors… and more importantly, Artemisia's. What she didn't expect was for the dumb girl to start charging away at an impressive breakneck speed. The plan had called for a pretty good charge, but it had to involve careful timing and the entire party keeping pace. In a moment, she was gone. And shortly after, she was back. With an army at her heels. And not her army. "This was not in the plan!" She screamed, reacting at the approaching soldiers simultaneously. Although by this time, like her fellow allies, she was gradually suffering from exhaustion, she mustered up the strength to shield the party with her spells. Invoking a brief chant, a domed, semi-opaque blue wall appeared in front of them, supplementing the soft cover that Locke had provided with his smokescreen. Smoke would do little to contain attacks from arrows or spears though; she strained to stretch the protection to all angles that the archers could shoot from, but the effort was fatiguing. Thankfully for Artemisia, she was seated relatively comfortably on a saddled horse, so she wouldn't fall even if she lost her strength. Although, if she somehow passed out, that was another thing entirely. "Best if we all finished those archers off now. Our spells and projectiles can pass through, but I'm not going to be able to hold a shield this wide at this rate." She grimaced, but began to spur her horse forward into a better position in the smokescreen. She just hoped they didn't begin to camp in there, because even if the situation had changed, they still need to get a proper move on.</s> <\|message\|>Vani Silverstream Well, okay, so they weren't exactly punching a wall...but something was certainly happening! ...But, judging from everyone's reactions, Serafaye was definitely not following the plan in mind. She'd managed to draw away a good portion of the guard away, but there wasn't anything they could really do now against the horde still remaining. Gritting his teeth, Vani would get ready to charge ahead before he heard the sound of a knee hitting the ground hard. ...Their spellcasters were running on empty, and Vani would loathe to admit it, but all this fighting and running was getting him winded. Especially since he was wearing heavier armor than probably the entire group combined. He probably could manage a single smite, but after that who knows if he'd just pass out again after minor exertion. Just as he reached out to help Locke up though, the man stood. He was tougher than Vani would give a spellcaster credit for. Looking towards the archers remaining on the wall, Vani would have an idea. Well "idea" was an exaggeration, since it was more of a gamble at this point honestly. Looking back to Yinha, he would smile, and throw a wink her way. "If you can still manage to summon it, use that angel to help Kaze move. I'm going in," he said, leaning Kaze so that he wouldn't fall before drawing his sword and stepping forward through the smoke-screen. He couldn't count on Kaze, injured as he was, to throw him atop the wall. As such, Vani only had one recourse in mind. Suddenly throwing himself to the ground, Vani purposefully scrapped his face against the dirt, taking his sword and lightly cutting the fabric of his tabard before doubling back in a nearby alleyway and quite literally crawling out of it. Reaching a hand out towards the guards, he would use his gods-given booming voice to let out a cry of absolute terror. "A BEAST! A BEAST! A MONSTER IN WOMAN'S FORM!" he screamed, just loud enough to get their attention while pointing at the direction that Serafaye and her entourage of soldiers that were soon to be slapped to submission had gone. The dirt from before was clotting in his eye, eliciting tears that conveniently played up his B rank acting skills as he said: "THE SHE-DEVIL, SHE SLAUGHTERED HUNDREDS OF US! SHE EATS THE BONES OF MEN, AND SUCKS UPON THE JELLIES OF THEIR EYES!" he groaned, steadily crawling forward, not moving his legs an inch to give the impression that he had been badly hurt. "Quickly! Your men will perish if you don't assist them! She...she defiled countless soldiers...so many dead...so many quiet screams..." If Vani couldn't charge straight in, then he could damn well try and make sure that their attention was split. His shield was still strapped to his arm, battered as it was, so if any archer decided to shoot, he could protect himself. He'd only attack if they struck first here, since he wanted them to earnestly believe his act as he "quivered" in fear, trying to buy the others an opportunity to either charge, or get away. ...That or he'd just die in the dirt like a buffoon.</s>	<\|message\|>Kaze Kaze sighed when he took note that Serafaye had up and left the alley. It seemed they were going to be doing things this way, brute force. Well that was the deal of being in a group, you had hotheads and dumb dumbs mixed with smart and tactical. Cracking his knuckles he moved into that strange pose Vani and Yinha had seen once with a face full of concentration. While he channeled his inner energies he heard the shouting from out in the main road to the gate. It sounded like Serafaye was arguing with the footsoldiers out near the gate. Whatever, he needed to work now. A white glow surrounded him while his eyes were closed. A pulse of power rippled along the glow. "Pace of Wind." He stated, the glow taking on a greenish color. Another pulse as the voices drew nearer to the alley entrance. And Vani went out and...started yelling? What? "Flow Acceleration." He spoke out again, the green turned into an orange color now. When he opened his eyes he saw Locke making a smokescreen and Yinha giving him the universal 'I'm watching you' gesture. Grinning at her cheekily he moved forward, weaving between the group to get to the front. The battlecries of the soliders was his own personal signal. He surged out of the alley entrance surprisingly fast for something his size. Vani and Yinha had the potential to recognize that he had buffed himself during that long rest period of just talking and walking. He'd have buffed himself further, but that'd have taken a longer time than they had available. The air around his fist seemed to waver as he drew it back before proceeding to slam it into the torso of one of the soldiers. "Smash." He growled out, he didn't need to say it but sometimes pretending to be stupid was fun. The effect on contact was immediate, the soldiers breastplate crumbled like cheap foil while letting out a screech of metal, his ribcage was completely pulverized, and he went flying back into the clustered melee combatants like a bowling ball into bowling pins. He could have dived into the pile of tangled limbs, yelling, and a corpse. But someone else could play with them. Instead a swatted aside a blind sword-strike before grabbing the mans other arm. Hoisting him up he proceeded to beat the holy hell out of his allies with his armored body, each swing knocked a man away or flattened him to the ground as an armored squishy ally was bashed into them like a strange cudgel. What fun!</s>