[System]
Appearance: A wiry, yet sturdily built young chap, Grog prefers to cover himself in numerous articles of protective clothing, such as reinforced leather, goggles and even a few hints of chainmail. Behind his makeshift mask and anachronistic helmet, there lies the face of a twenty-something year old man, with almost shoulder-length messy brown hair, a somewhat handsome, angular visage and an ever-present stubble. His eyes are dark brown, almost black, and glisten distinctively in stronger than average lighting.

Sex: Seldom.

Personality: Grog is the human personification of "Hold my beer dude, I got this." Hot-headed, completely chaotic and boisterous to boot, he's the type of guy who'd shoot himself in the foot on a dare, and then pistol-whip the doctor for trying to sedate him, then somehow mix the various available sedatives into a cocktail powerful enough to send a blue whale home trippin' balls while also acting as a potent fire-bomb if ignited properly. To add further figurative dynamite to the figurative pile, a hair-trigger temper is only matched by his inquisitive nature and love of booze, effectively making him a disaster with legs.

Greatest Sin: Wrath. Two words: Unrestrained and violent.

 Also bar fights.

Motivation: "Escort a portal making demon so she can open up one of those bad boys to god knows where? That'd fucking rule."

Biography: "Honestly, I've got nothing to say. I had my fun. I did anything I wanted to do. I only wish I died with more style. You know, getting hit by a truck hurts like a bitch."

 That pretty much sums our short-tempered, strong-livered modern day adventurer's story. In life, he was a virtually jobless part-time delinquent, living off petty theft, mainly by blowing up the showcases of chain stores and running off overloaded with stuff in the middle of the night, or by snatching their cash registers in broad daylight and hoping nobody caught up to him. What little earnings he had, he mainly spent in booze, pizza, and materials for more homemade death traps.

 Overall, his hobbies mainly consisted of raising as much hell as humanly possible. They included: Previously mentioned cases of theft, public intoxication, loitering, vandalism, disorderly conduct, assault, battery, numerous attempts to pimp farm animals, unlawful possession of weapons and improvised explosive devices, construction of said devices, dumpster arson, jaywalking, uncountable barfights and a hell of a lot more nasty things. It is worthy to note, that even though he was extremely disruptive, Grog displayed an unhinged version of fairness (that was often subject to change), preventing him from lapsing into a full-on psychotic.

 Despite his bad habits, Grog had only spent a few months total in prison, due to somehow always evading capture. Eventually, though, his recklessness caught up to him, and he ended up mangled in the sidewalk, after an attempt to outrun a few officers by charging head first into high-speed traffic.

 Once he awoke in Hell, Grog was, to say the least, excited. A chance to have a blast and carry on boozing for all of eternity? So what if it had a few pesky demons and nightmarish creatures? It seemed like a pretty sweet deal. And so he went, his vile, bar-hopping, face-beating campaign continuing to this day.

Skills:

 Hold My Beer: Grog's most formidable trait is his ability to constantly innovate in unconventional (and dangerously idiotic) ways. He knows enough about subjects such as engineering, science and the occult to create extremely hazardous and utterly bizarre inventions. Furthermore, even though his long-term planning skills are poor at best, he can improvise mind-boggling "strategies" on the spot to counter pressing problems.

 Fist of the Barfighter: A life spent in blowing things up and consuming copious amounts of booze has left Grog with the ability to hold his own in a fight exceptionally well. He is an unpredictable and highly formidable combatant, relying on his quick wits, impulsive nature and overwhelming fury, as well as the element of surprise (that he himself is not immune to) to bring down his foes (as well as everything else in the vicinity, himself included).

 Battle Brew: Perhaps an echo of his habits in the mortal realm, Grog has the uncanny ability to gain almost supernatural strength and toughness proportionate to the booze he consumes, at the measly cost of mental stability. As if he had enough to begin with.

 Weaponized Driving: If you want to go somewhere in a jiffy, and you've got a nasty pack of goons on your trail, Grog is your guy. He's an inhumanly good driver, able to perform crazy stunts and maneuvers other road warriors would never think of attempting. There's one teeny-tiny catch, however. He's quite possibly just as dangerous a driver as he is a fearless one, and chances are, it'd be better for everyone involved if Grog remained far, far away from the steering wheel.

None yet, but he's bound to concoct something disastrous eventually.

Gear:

 Power Pint: A slightly oversized, enchanted wooden pint stolen by Grog during a night that he can't remember anything about, it has the ability to fill itself with a variety of beverages. It also appears to be indestructible.

 Cargo Belt: A belt with numerous pouches full of stuff. They act as an efficient way for Grog to store knickknacks and tricks.

 The Beatstick: A metallic baseball bat with nails and rusted barbed wire welded on it.

Theme Song: Kids, don't use beer bottles for improvised incendiaries.

Other: "If I don't know what the hell I'm doing, then my enemies won't expect my moves!"
 -The motto Grog lives by (and embodies).

[User]
Kritch knew that the pain of willingly reforming his hand in a small confined space would be immensely powerful from the dangerously low thought out plan, but he was hoping that the massive amount adrenaline and fear running though his body would null his senses for this very grueling moment. This wasn't the case this time. A familiar feeling of searing pain soared throughout Kritch's hairy malformed body causing it to jolt and contort around several angles. The rat's hand had quickly shot out of the destroyed guardsman's brain, his bloody ruined hand exposed to the suffering rat's eyes caused him to curse within his language chittering, clicking, and squeaking seemingly at the same time with its rapid sounds. Kritch didn't even notice the semi-liquid cloud of death toying with the already defeated guardsman, he was just tightly clenching his limp wrist staring at his ravaged hand. It had been quite some time being subjected to his amount of pain, one of his main goals was to actually avoid being hurt as getting hurt is quite bad! Still, after his cursing subsided for the moment, Kritch's even more blood red eyes landed upon the mess that gas-cloud thing had produced with the last guardsman.

While normally Kritch would run away at the sight of such horrors from an untrustworthy ally, the amount of pain, fear, and adrenaline coursing through his veins threw away his caution to the winds of chaos and merely wanted this nightmare to be over. Letting out a simple snort to V's words, he grabbed the flying keys with his good hand before stumbling towards the locked door. "Lizard-thing better be of use-use," Kritch muttered to himself, unlocking the prison door and unleashing Betty to the prison hallways of temporary freedom. "We must flee-escape building now, monster too power-strong for us, we go to escape-free driver,"

[Assistant]
At the sight of his restraints loosening, the crazed Grog began to flail his arms wildly, shotguns still firmly gripped and all. Of course, a few stray shots landed here and there. As his trusty steed hoisted him over his head and explained what was about to happen, Grog reacted the only way he could. More rage-induced spasms and mouth frothing. That was not to say he didn't like the prospect of serving as a gun-totting human fucking cannonball, in fact, he welcomed the idea with open arms and... Mouth? Of all times, Grog just -had- to use the Pint now. With one gun held awkwardly under his shoulder, it seemed that the (un)masked hooligan had just downed an entire tankard of what seemed to be pure scotch.

 And just like that, he was launched. Barely having enough time to secure his tankard, he felt his face being pulled back by the force of the throw as he flew ripped a hysterical path through the air. The crab-man had already began to launch what seemed to be a counterattack against Head Honcho, and Sir Badass had valiantly napalmed the fuck out of Nefas' legs, or something. Grog was too absorbed in his own high to properly notice. Though the whole scene was truly fun to behold, time was of the essence, especially now that the leather-clad bomber was momentarily airbourne.

 Once again, due to the combination of his own peculiar mental functions and the drugs still going strong within his system, Grog began formulating a course of action that would guarantee maximum damage on the raging half-demon-thing. First, he'd empty his shotguns while there was still distance between himself and Nefas. His heightened awareness made it painfully easy to successfully aim for key points such as the throat, mouth and eyes. With that out of the way, the next thing to do was to somehow avoid being caught by the beast. Luckily, he had just the trick for that. One of his three nailbombs would do the job. He'd simply toss it with all of his (now somewhat formidable) strength towards the baddie. Even if he were to catch it before it hit his face, the force from the impact would still set it off, resulting in a high-powered, nail-filled burst that would certainly give him these precious few moments needed in order to slip by.

 Though that seemed a tad hard to pull off.

[User]
Inside HPIS
Hallway & A bit of Cell Block L-1
Poncho struggled fruitlessly against the muscled man holding him captive. For a second he considered trying to strike before gazing up at the behemoth and seconding guessing himself. At the proposition the demon sneered, but as he was put down, did as told. His shouts began to fill the room, attempting to calm the rioters.

While this was happening, Nefas was being beset upon again. First, the knight of light slammed a flaming shield into his knees, forcing him into a stumble where Old N caught him off guard. This forced him onto one knee, the bullets being fired from Grog grazing his head and causing it to bleed just a bit. The coup de gras came from Deprave, who stepped up and swung his mighty blade down, cracking open Nefas's skull and carving through some grey matter. Nefas slumped over on the blade and his eyes closed themselves. It seemed he was down for the count.

The prisoners began cheering. Long live the king, the king is dead and all that. While some immediately ran to the exit, Poncho blocked the exit and began corralling and calming down the masses, as per Deprave's polite suggestion. Although he did have to punch some of them out, the vast majority seemed to be pretty hype about the whole thing. Mob mentality was running wild, as was adrenaline. As soon as Betty arrived, the group was free to go.

Near Betty's Cell
As the lock clicked open and Kritch swung the door open, the two would be greeted by a 4 foot tall green reptilian demon, dressed in a small shirt and a skirt. She bombastically stepped out into the hall before taking a look around at the rebels that freed her and frowning. "I was expecting someone a bit more heroic, and less dirty and uh..." Gazing down at the the smoldering corpse of the head guard. "Jeez, was that really, like, a requirement? He was nice. Gave me a drink sometimes."

"Well, whatever, we need to get out of here?" She asked, looking between the two men. At that moment, Barkeep cut in. "Weaver is on her way, should be there in about 30 seconds or a minute. Make sure Betty doesn't get hurt." Betty nodded at this, seemingly knowing who this person was. She began lackadaisical trekking down the hall towards the entrance to the prison.

[Assistant]
The crusader had thrown their helmet across the ground in a desperate attempt to get the cloud of air infused with a napalm out of their eyes and lungs. The young Toby saw that the knight was struggling to breathe and rushed over to see if he would be alright after getting all of this crud out of his system, but as Toby would soon find out, the knight was not the man he seemed... or a man at all.

Where Jonathan Light once stood, a slightly ravishing woman was on her knees and hands, coughing up smoke. Her hair was cut shortly in order to fit into the thrown-aside helmet. Through the coughs that were expelled from her, you could hear a confident and slightly feminine voice, and her frame was actually rather slim, and under the armor you could barely see a fair bit of padding under it. This was Jennifer Light, the crusader that faked an identity to join the ranks of the Pope's army many centuries ago.

She looked back towards the prison, now loud with the chanting of once rioting prisoners, still coughing away with a slightly accented voice. "Nefas is - hyeck - taken down now... we have a - chyech - chance at getting out of - bleck - here... glorious." The knight continued to cough after that.


[System]
Nicknames / Aliases: Eli / Elle

Gender: Female

Birthday: June 30th

Age: 17

Class: White Mage

Occupation: Student

Species: Human

Appearance:

Clothing Style:

Personality: Gentle, kind, shy, and meek, Elisha's personality was molded through her harsh upbringing. A girl with a heart of gold, she's always willing to help someone if it meant their happiness. Never one to hold a grudge, her kindness knows no bounds. She has always put others ahead of herself, where her martyrical nature has bit her in the rear more than once before. Despite this, she grit her teeth and forced herself to move on.

Underneath all of this however, is a girl whose self-esteem is always at a dangerously low point. Someone who frequently questions her purpose and goal in life. Her outward demeanor hiding a frail and weak person. She frequently has considered committing suicide, but she has always barely shot the idea down by telling herself that she just needs a little more time to change.

As a result of her family's long outdated look on left-handed people being "servants" of a greater evil, she has developed a complex about her dexterity. While she is naturally a southpaw, she has forced herself to deal with the world with her right hand as well. Elisha only ever reverts to her dominant hand in private or during dire situations, while keeping her right in public.

Hometown: Otonoki - A fairly average-sized town just about two hours to the South of Maplestead by horse. The town is best known for developing some of the most successful mages in history. Featuring some of the top ranking universities in the country, Otonoki's quality in teaching is well-known and respected. If one wants to learn how to be a very good mage, then Otonoki is one of the best places to learn at.

Otonoki has a medieval theme attached to it. The town is abundant with nature and filled with green pastures and surrounded by forests. Aside from that, the town is covered by several mountains to its West side which compliment its old-fashioned look, as well as serve as the training grounds for up and coming mages.

Likes: Children, left-handed tools, music, reading

Dislikes: Loud and crowded areas, romance, large bodies of water, her family, being referred by her last name

Past / History: Born into the wealthy and prestigious but old-fashioned magi family of Marluxia, her upbringing was meant to be one of high class. At first, this was the case. An accident during her child years nearly took her life, as well as leaving her heart in a very frail state. Elisha was no longer able to be physically fit. Every time she tried to run, her heart would be strained easily and she'd be out of breath. Anything that shocks or surprises her can give her a heart attack. Anything that hits the area around her heart can give her a heart attack. Her family was supportive despite this. Her siblings were there to help, and her parents spent their precious work time to be with her. Somehow though, Elisha felt they were only doing all of this out of pity. A thought that quickly turned into fact.

Her life slowly turned for the worse when her parents discovered her preference for her left hand. Her family was quick to change their demeanor around her. "A sign of the devil's servant", they say. Elisha's family beat her. They locked her in her room for years. Only letting her out for food and trips to the bathroom. The servants who tried to comfort or sympathize with her were quickly fired and replaced, eventually leaving her with no one to connect with. No one was allowed to be associated with the "devil's servant". She grew to resent her family, all the while never once losing her kindness to others despite the abuse. She greeted and spoke to them all the same, with a smile and polite mannerism.

Over the years, she forced herself into relearning the world by using her right hand. Once her parents deemed that she has "cleansed" herself enough, they allowed her to "live" normally again. Given that she was tutored at home to avoid other people finding out about her dexterity on top of the abuse she went through, she had poor social skills. They eventually allowed her to study at a high school near their mansion. With her first year being the point of when she was taken advantage of several times due to her kind and awkward nature. She took all of this in stride. She never considered anyone her friend and treated everyone the same, despite a few of them showing legitimate signs of wanting to be friends with her.

[User]
Inside the safety of the clinic, Vance was lying in bed. His armor and clothes were propped against the wall, next to the bed, and Eve was sitting on the edge of the bed near his shoulder.

He tossed and turned a bit, dreaming as the painkillers that were administered started to take effect. He saw a man in black garb, and a mule, then a knife drawn, and put to his throat. One quick slice and the deed was done. As the man drew the knife across his skin in the dream, he awoke. His eyes were wide and he gasped, quickly sitting up in bed. The motion, and sound, had scared Eve to the point that she nearly fell off. His hand reached up to feel his neck, to make sure that it was just a dream.

"Who was that?" he thought. He could have sworn that what he saw in his dream actually happened, but he wasn't far from gone when it did, so he couldn't be sure.

When Eve recovered from her surprise, she quickly flew to him, hugging his neck as tightly as she could. "Oh gods, I thought you were gone! Don't you ever do that again!" She said with tears in her eyes, still clinging to him.

Vance shrugged a bit, wincing at the pain in his newly readjusted shoulder. "It was either that, or die" he said with a 'matter of fact' tone.

She gave him a look that said. "You better not die!" She still had tears running down her cheeks as she looked at him.

"Were there any other survivors?" he said, looking from his shoulder to her. "Not many" she said, shaking her head.

Vance was still too weak to fully heal his shoulder, so he would let the painkillers do their work.
Eve explained to him where they were, and that when he was feeling better, he should go out to the tavern to meet the remaining heroes who survived their battles, and, of course get paid.

As a priest walked through the clinic, blessing the survivors, he stopped at Vance, reaching into a small pouch and bringing out a small, silver cross on a chain, which he handed to Vance. The Templar looked at it for a minute before Eve snatched it away, unfolding the chain and putting it over his head. The metal was cold against his skin, but it looked good sitting against his bare chest. He needed a little while longer to recover before he could meet the other heroes, and collect his payment.

[Assistant]
The following period of time the man spent was wandering the city and surveying the aftermath from the events that just recently happened. Truth be told he found himself quickly becoming bored as he continued prowling through the city. The city despite any damage to its citizens was still standing and in working condition although there was probably a large focus on manpower in tending to the wounded and dead as well as possibly tallying any damages incurred. These things which are all very important and not in his hands at all. His thought would be to relegate himself to the currents of his whim in much the same way a leaf gently travels through a breeze.

He thought about the others people who had signed up and were along for the ride. And that most of them would be at some bar socializing and resting while awaiting the next set of orders. However for him it was still too early to hit the bar as to maximize the most of his profit he'd want it to be filled tighter and with the audience just liquored up enough to be properly lubricated.

Tangentially to the subject of the others his mind quickly turn to his assigned group. He recalled that there are three people per group and that furthermore only one he saw. Speculating about the woman he did not see would be a waste of time; a thing he did not like to indulge in. It would be far more easier to seek the other man who'd he for the sake optimism was wounded and not dead and inquire about the whereabouts.

Having made his way to the clinic where he heard the man was being held at. He slinked his way from out of the corner with his target in sight. There were many other beds each filled with different people. But only one of them had that same armor set he saw. There was a scent of some herbal concoction in the air as he spoke to the man, "We meet again. I'm just here to get some information, so tell me of the other person assigned to tour group. You happen to know her or something about her?" This conversation terse thought it maybe served two purposes: one being the obvious practical aspect and the other just sating his curiosity and giving him something to do.

[User]
The door to the tavern of heroes slammed open, and a short woman with bunny ears wearing a beautiful dress stood on the other side. She lowered her foot, having kicked the door open. In each shoulder she held a youth, her companions Elisha and Louis. Both were blasted as all hell, as was her companion Cecilia, stumbling after her.

Lenna looked around the tavern for a moment, and smiled.

"My, what a lovely establishment," she remarked, "Don't you think so, lady Elisha? Sir Louis?"

Without waiting for a response, Lenna quickly strided over to a table, depisiting the drunken youths each in a chair.

"Beat that you guys not drink anything more," she suggested, "Lady Elisha, perhaps, but, sir Louis, I'm afraid if we let you sniff another drop of weak fruity drink, you may die of alcohol poisoning."

She paused, "Are either of you hungry? I know bread neutralizes alcohol to an extent. Perhaps a bit of food could help."

She smiled. Her team was crazy, but she liked it. Louis was especially odd, the little dork. She certainly wasn't going to tease the boy when he was drunk anymore though. She still blushed a bit, remembering his lips on her.

My, that had been embarrassing. The tsundere little dork had even rubbed her bunny ears. He had no idea how intimate that was!

The only people that had rubbed her ears were her father, her mother, her lovers, and Greg that one time that some boy had made fun of her for being beastkin.

And that had been a special occasion, and Greg was basically dad#2 to her anyways!

She briefly wondered if there was a local version of the Pugilist club.

"Cecilia, you know about illegal stuff, right?" Lenna said, "is there a Pugilist Club in town?"

[Assistant]
Cecelia

 Cecelia entered the tavern after Lenna, swaying lightly in her steps. Damn, it's been a long time since I've drank that much. Cecelia's armor was loosely resting on her, not strapped, laced, or anything, just resting on her torso as the dark shirt she wore under it loosely draped over her frame. Cecelia decided before either of her drunken teammates responded to Lenna's question about food to get some bread anyways. "I don't know about them, but I know that I'm hungry. I'll get us some bread." And with that, Cecelia ordered and paid for some bread. She noticed a few people in the tavern, including a man with wings in a back corner, but couldn't think of anything but Damn, I wish I had wings.

 Cecelia ever so gracefully staggered back to her teammates at the table. "Are you two alright after the ride on Lenna's shoulders? Not too sick?" She looked from Louis to Elisha with concern on her face. Even though she was relatively hammered, she's usually able to focus through the drunken haze and be rational. Til she passes out. Then it's wildcard time, where anything could happen from absolutely nothing to forcefully trying to hook up with men.

 Hearing Lenna's question about illegal activities, Cecelia thinks for a little bit and tells Lenna "well, I don't know this place very well. I might have spent one night here at most within the past fortnight. I can, however, find someone who does know the information. Tomorrow, we'll set out for whatever area of town is the poorest. That's where the most illegal activity lies." With that, Cecelia let her loosely hanging armor fall to the ground with a soft thud, allowing her loose-fitting shirt with a handful of holes in it to be fully revealed. "Aah, much better."


[System]
Age:17

Personality & Bio: Humorous and vivacious, along with being very nosy and somewhat laid back. He always tries to find interests in many new things that look to him as appealing, and shows favor and compassion to whoever needs it, whoever it may be. His parents live out of town so he stays with a close friend of his while attending high school, and off hours he makes what free time he has to do personal writing on his life and his encounters as a small hobby.

[User]
Avery had fallen asleep on Rolands shoulder again wnating to just rest and just regain all the energy she lost from having to deal with ehr father, school and other things that made her stay on her toes until she finally was a bit fre. The media on her tail wnating t know all the details that she did not wish to bring up. ALl she wnated was for the memories of the ordeal to fade away and to never resurface again.

while Roland was talking to Steven the new switched on with their breaking news. "Breaking news the young Girl Avery Jones has been reported to have been discharged from the hospital no information has been given n her wearabouts for the doctors code of confidentiality but many believe she must be in a foster care service and avoiding the public eye." The lady on the news said.

"And in other breaking knews a terrible crime scene was found in the jail for a cop had been strangled to death and is believed to have been killed by an inmate that after killing the officer stle his keys to escape." She explained over the news and had paused for a moment. "I have been just informed that the inmate that has escaped is none other then Eric Jones father of Avery Jones so please contact the police for the police do say e is a dangerous man and hopefully his daughter is far far away by now."

Once the breaking news ended and the normal program was running. Good thing Avery was to deep in a sleep to hear what was going on the tv but if she were to hear it or knew her father was coming after her she would flip and freak non-stop feeling like she would have to run away and try to disappear in some way shape or form.

[Assistant]
The conversation had drove to a halt as the local news had appeared to briefly give out an official update to Roland and Avery's previous location earlier, claiming that Avery was released out of hospital care and sent to a foster care facility.

"Well would you look at that," exclaimed Steven, "She's making the headlines. Just think now, she's going to be one of the biggest things to happen at our school. Seriously, nothing this big has ever hit our town before…or at least in the case of violence that is."

Steven seemed to be thrilled with all of what was being announced, but Roland just shook his head without saying a word, focusing on what other topics were to be revealed on the broadcast. He looked over to Avery, finding her sound asleep next to him, looking peaceful. He smiled a bit, but the smile quickly went away with the next report being revealed.

The news announced just after that a cop was just killed by a brutal strangulation from none other than the man who was placed in jail not long ago, revealing to be Avery's father as the report led on to claim he had escaped prison.

Knowing all of this had Roland in shock. He knew what his plans were, who he was going to look for, and what he could do to get her back, and it made him start to worry not only for Avery's safety, but for the Noonan's, his other family, and what would result if they were found by the recent escapee.

Though Roland wasn't the only to witness this unpleasant story, Steven's reaction was just about the same as they both stared at the television with an upsetting look on their faces.

"That's bad, isn't it?" questioned Steven, once thrilled but now worried as he turned to Roland.

"I would say so," replied Roland with a tone of fear.

"Avery," exclaimed Mrs. Noonan as she called for Avery to inform her on the room being ready, "Avery? The room is ready for you sweetheart."

Roland couldn't really move himself, couldn't think or say anything, just sitting there as he wondered where would Avery's father go. Where would he try to look? Or a better question….

Where is he now?

[User]
Avery woke up when Mrs. Noonan woke her up and her eyes a bit trying to wake a up a bit and thank fully th news was talking about other stuff and not about her father's escape anymore. "Sorry guess I am really tired my bdy must be really relaxed and not runnign on adrenaline anymore." She said and looked at Roland and saw he was pale as a ghost. "Roland are you ok?" She asked him.

Her father was on the run growling for he was furious now. Avery once I find you i will send you to hell that is a promise." He said to as he kept running he killed somoene in a car and took the car leaving the dead body on the road as he drove off on the hunt.

Avery after a bit finally left to go to Rolands old room to go lay down for her body was just to drained for everything and just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away for she felt like she could sleep for 24 hours but she did wondered what was wrong with Roland for he loked so scared about soething but he looked like he did not want to tell her at all. She wen to th room and loooked at it and thought it as the nicest room around for all she was was a matreess broken furniture and an old blanket when she lived with her dad. It was nice to be in a real room. She thanks Mrs. Noonan for everythignand sat on the bed looking at her feet a bit before laying down again and slowly falling a sleep not knwing what will happen tomorrow or if she is willing to go to school at all due to the fast she had no real clothes just the scrubs the hospital gave her and all her supplies were still back at the old house.

Cops and sanitation crew was working in the house to clean it up and collect things that might belonged to Avery and also some were there just to see if her father would go back to the house.

[Assistant]
Roland looked over to Avery, his eyes wide of concern as he expressed them yet he didn't want her to be worried of him nor of what he just learned, replying with a lying nod as he began scratching the back of his head.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm ok Avery. Nothing to worry about," he said, unconvincing as he turned his view back to the tv.

Steven looked over to Roland, knowing that he was lying as he crossed his arms in disbelief of what he was doing. He knew when Roland was lying, and also knew how not good of a liar he was.

As Avery got up and was heading to Roland's room, now fully prepared for her to rest in as Mr. Noonan left the inside of it, Mrs. Noonan waited before shutting off the lights, wanting to make sure Avery looked comfortable enough to sleep. Once it had seemed confirmed, she shut off the lights.

"Try to rest ok sweetheart?," said Mrs. Noonan with a comforting tone, "We will be here if you need anything. Don't be afraid to ask."

Once all was said, a simple but sweet "Goodnight," was said from Mrs. Noonan as she closed the bedroom door.

With Mrs. Noonan walking back into the kitchen, the only ones left in the main room was Roland and Steven. Both were still surprised from learning of the escape of Avery's father, fearing of the events to come.

"I would have told her, ya know," said Steven to Roland, "She has a right to know."

"Dude what the hell?" said Roland with a more frustrated tone of anger, "I'm trying not to get her upset, and you're over there saying I should tell her that her father is coming to find her? What I should just tell her 'Hey, you're not going to believe this, but your dad just busted out of prison and is coming to find you right now' and hope she'll be ok with it? Seriously."

As Roland was now more ticked off, he wanted nothing more than to just steer clear of Steven's stupidity of words. In doing so, he picked himself up from his seat and was making his way into the kitchen.

"It could be worse," mumbled Steven to himself.

As Roland had entered the kitchen, he sighted both of Steven's parents keeping busy. Mr. Noonan was reading over some bill papers at the kitchen table, while Mrs. Noonan was preparing dinner. Once she turned to notice Roland's presence, seeing his face was pure red and distraught, she question him to see what was the matter.

"Roland?" asked Mrs. Noonan, "Are you ok? You look as if you're going to explode."

Mr. Noonan raised his attention to notice Roland in the kitchen as well, his face puzzled as to seeing that Roland wasn't looking too happy on something.

"Steven is just keeping me in a bad mood is all," answered Roland, popping a question afterwards, "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Yes, of course," said Mr. Noonan, getting up to pull out a chair for Roland to sit in so that he could sit down and discuss his issue with each other, "Something wrong?"

[User]
Avery thanked mrs. Noonan and dozed off into a peaceful sleep not knowing what was happening or going on at all. She did dream but it was plain simple ones out there where nothing happened in her dream and she knew that but did not care at all for it was the first night that she could peacefully dream and not fear her father would come and do something or one of his friends.

The past is what she desired to forget and just move on in hopes of finally being happy once again and not live in a little world full of fear and not knowing if she was going to die the next day or not. She remained curled up into a ball in a deep sleep not knowing how much she actually missed sleeping in a real bed instea of an old mattress on the floor. To her she was in paradise and was glad to finally just be a normal teenager and possibly have a great future.

But unfortunately her father was out and on the hunt for Avery saying it was finally time for the brat to die. "I am coming for you Avery soon your blood will spill and all the bad you caused will be erased with the price of your blood." He said as he went off robbing a convenience store and killing a couple to steal their car and drove off to find the little brat that he believed ruined everything in his life, especially his marriage to his wife.

After a few hours though Avery opened her eyes and sat up looking around trying to remember where she was at but soon reliazed she was being fostered at Roland's families friends home. She slowly got out of bed and made her way to the door looking out still a bit cautious about everything. Once she saw the hall was empty and slowly walked out and made her ways down stairs for she wanted a drink of water at least. She did not want to bother Mr. or Mrs. Noonan for a drink since they were nice enough for her to stay with them. She made her way to the kitchen slowly wanting to stay quiet and not cause any problems.

[Assistant]
"Well…kind of," said Roland, taking a seat near the kitchen table, "I'm kind of worried."

"Well Roland, we're all worried," said Mr. Noonan, laughing a bit, "I mean we know you care about Avery, and we-"

"Yeah, but.." continued Roland as he interrupted, "It's just that…well…I have a feeling that he's going to find her, you know? And that when he does, he'll try to kill all of us for trying to-"

"Roland" said Mrs. Noonan interrupting Roland this time, "Are you talking about Avery's father?"

"Yeah," replied Roland as his face expressed a worrisome look, "I mean, I want to help Avery, but I'm scared also. Her father will probably do anything he can to find her…but I don't want anyone of us to get killed trying to protect her. It's just not right."

As Mrs. Noonan walked over to the sink to clean her hands very quick, she knew that not only was Roland worried of Avery's safety, but everyone else's as well.

"We'll figure something out along the way sweetheart," said Mrs. Noonan to Roland happily, "If it comes down to it, we'll have a patrol of troops guarding outside the house, you know like in the movies?"

"Exactly," said Mr. Noonan laughing a bit harder now, "We'll be ready for whatever happens Roland. Even if we have to leave town or go into another continent, we will be one step ahead and do everything in our power to keep each other safe. You need not worry ok?"

As they spoke of their plans, it made Roland feel a bit calmer, but the feeling still stood within him. He believed Mr. and Mrs. Noonan, but he wasn't sure as to what could happen, or if things would be too late. It was boggling him so much that he couldn't think straight, but he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it off unless something could be done.

"I'm going to try to rest a bit too I guess," said Roland as he got up and began walking away from the table.

"You aren't hungry?" asked Mrs. Noonan, "Dinner will be ready shortly."

"Will you save a bit for me and Avery?" asked Noonan, "I know she'll be hungry when she wakes up."

Mrs. Noonan smile back at him nodding, agreeing to leave leftovers for both him and Avery. Once all was said and done, the only thing Roland wanted to do now was get a couple of hours of sleep.

"Steven," said Roland, plopping down onto the couch, "Try to keep the noise down ok? By the way, dinner will be ready in a few moments."

"Really?" said Steven, "Well then I'm going to the kitchen. You can have the living room all you want because I'm starving."

As Steven rushed out of the main room, Roland made himself more comfortable by laying across the couch, resting his head onto the armrest and closing his eyes. Even though there was still a bit of noise coming from the kitchen, it wasn't too much to keep him awake as he starting dozing off and eventually falling asleep.

Hours later, Roland had woke up hearing a noise that sounded like footsteps. The rooms were dark due to the lights being out, but it wasn't going to prevent him as to finding out who was up roaming around. As he got himself up off the couch, he reached up to the ceiling fan and pulled the switch to turn on the lights in the room.

"Someone awake?" questioned Roland, waiting for a reply to find out if anyone was up and near.


[System]
Age
20

Race
Stock-Standard-Human

Class
Sorcerer
Clockwork Soul

Level
2

Background
Sage [Astronomer and Mathematician]

Personality
Zavakri is an eccentric woman. She is occupied by obsessive compulsions and nervous tics that render her a difficult person to directly engage with in a meaningful manner. She desires cleanliness and hygienic well-being, as well as order and logic to the structure and organization of things. Things being crooked really bother her, to put it succinctly, and she can't quite stop herself from trying to straighten things up.

She has a queer sense of humor. Amusement is seemingly found in all things, especially things that work out Just Right or Just So.

Above all else the woman is a curious bundle of nerves; She is simultaneously willing to open Schrodinger's Box whilst being terrified of what might be inside of it.

There had been an argument. Zavakri could remember having it. She could remember seeing her sister's face; eyes full of tears and that lip twitching with youthful petulance. The worst part is, Zavakri could remember her own cruelty...

"I don't care what you want, Tara! I only brought you along because mum said I had to look out for you!"

These words had a profound affect upon the young girl known as Detara. Her face scrunched up. The tears fell. Her small hands curled into grubby fists. A deep breath filled her cheeks, before she yelled back into Zavakri's own stubborn indignance;

"If you don't care what I want, I don't care about you!"

A classic child's tantrum tactic, well executed and expertly crafted. Detara was good at this 'being a younger sister' thing; it came to her naturally from birth. This had meant that for nearly eight years she had plagued Zavakri's own social efforts and parental needs- but it had all come to a head today, with a split vote on what to do at the Carnival. Detara had a wondrous solution to their seeming incapability to resolve their differences; she turned, shut her eyes, and sprinted into the crowd.

Leaving Zavakri stunned and gazing after her. In a few more seconds the world came crashing down and she realized that her Older Sister Duty was to chase after her, and so logical pathing set in.

Hours passed. The day passed. The sun began to set. She found herself alone at the entrance to the Carnival. She was hopeless, looking around in a manner best described as 'frantic' for any sign of her wayward sister. The carnival only came once every eight years- so far that was once in her lifetime!- and Detara had thoroughly secreted herself away in the crowd.

Zavakri needed help. She turned and accidentally bumped into two important-seeming Elves who had come to wave away the last of the guests. She lifted her face to them, enthralled in wonder by their visages. She asked if they knew where her sister was.

"Silly little screeching cricket," said Witch. "You forgot to buy a ticket."

"The carnival goes round and round," said Light. "The multiverse is our playground. Nothing's free and nothing's lost. Every visit has its cost."

---

Order. The world needed Order. The world needed Logic. The world needed a Foundation. Zavakri was a sinking girl with nowhere to plant her feet. No ropes to grab hold of. No ladders to climb. The weight of a lost sister forever on her shoulders. Depression claimed her. Absconded with the rest of her childhood and and waged a strong war against her lesser teenage years.

Nothing made any sense. The world was a hopeless spiral of guilt and shame. Nothing held her interest- certainly not the family farmstead, of which she was now the sole daughter of the lot and therefor the one tasked with assisting the mother with cleaning and cooking. Days blurred into weeks which blended into months which faded into forgotten years.

Until one day something clicked. It all started with a bump on the head. More precisely, a thrown apple. An apple thrown by a boy. A cute boy. A boy who was feeling brave today.

---

Zavakri had been sitting at the riverside, contemplating absolutely nothing and dreading absolutely everything, as she idled beside a laundry basket that desperately needed her attention. Three brothers and an uncle sharing the farmstead meant there was always plenty of cleaning to do, and never enough energy to contemplate the best order to do it all in. Which meant she had to trudge through inefficient cleaning methods and tasks, which only further spiraled her into her depressive state.

She sighed. Dramatically, mind you. A proper dejection. Then she leaned forward onto her knees and braced her elbows upon them, servicing her head with a platform of her hands as she rocked forward to stare down into the waters. It was a good, deep, existential crisis. Until the apple hit her upon the head.

It collided with her squarely. A proper throw, from an athletically inclined arm. She yelped, eyes wide, and watched the reflection of the apple as it arced through the air-

Let Apple equal X. Parabolic function presented, X moving at V of...Account for air resistance, coefficient F
d
...Let Hand, right, move to position coordinate X,Y,Z...

And swiftly snatched it out of the air with her right hand as her left rose slowly to rub at the soreness of the back of her head. It was a boyish method, to be sure, but it had accomplished its task. Zavakri lifted her eyes in what felt like the first time in her life.

And to top it all off, there was the spark of magic in the air.

---

"Do you see that, Rirvudd?" She whispered it quietly to the young man beside her. He was maybe a year older than her, and by now she herself was a woman of eighteen- and both yearned for more than the simple village they called home.

"Aye." He whispered back, smirking. "Though you'll have to explain it to me. I don't quite know what it is I'm seeing." It was easy bait, he knew she'd bite- he just liked listening to her ramble. And ramble she did;

It was a star- or perhaps a planet- maybe an asteroid?- It was impossible to tell with the naked eye, but from how Zavakri talked you wouldn't have known that. They were outside the village, high atop a nearby hill where they had an unobstructed view of the night sky. She waxed and waned about it all, clutching in her hands a quill and parchment- both well used by now. The quill's feather had practically withered away, whereas the parchment was meticulously filled with painstaking notes of astronomic geography. A detailed and thorough star map, gracefully and lovingly drawn by Zavakri herself.

After a polite amount of her torrential musings, Rirvudd cleared his throat and caught her eye.

"You can't avoid the festival every year, Kri." He said softly. Already the girl had tensed up and looked away, but he'd already tread upon the landmine. "Lliira's Night is a night of joy, dancing, fun-"

"I can't." She said quietly. "You know I can't, Riri, you know I can't." Despite her closed off physicality- her arms having dropped their possessions and fled to the safety of hugging her own torso- and visibly shaken nature, Rirvudd can be applauded for his boyish bravery for wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. She accepted his offer of warmth and leaned her head upon his shoulder.

"...I would like to." she added, softly. "But I just can't. The music- the dancing- it reminds me of Tara. If I'd just-"

Rirvudd was ready for this. He wasn't about to let her do this to herself again.

"Baldur's Gate. It has an Astrolabe, right?"

"Well, a big city like that'd have a Planisphere, dioptra, an astrolabe-"

"You know what I mean. It'd have a proper facility for doing all this, right?"

"Well, yes. I suppose it would."

"Then come with me. To Baldur's Gate. Father said I was old enough to handle the Market trips. You and I both know that without you I'd be lost on the economics of it all, anyway, and end up costing the village some silver. Or, maybe, if you don't go with me I'd see a pretty skirt or two and lose my hea-"

Before he could conclude himself, Zavakri rolled her eyes and shoved him. He toppled over as if she'd pricked a balloon and tossed it aside. She crossed her legs and stared at him, leaning back against the rock they'd made their small camp against.

"You? Chasing skirts? Riri, you'd only be running because I'd be behind you about to tear that stupid beard off your face for even trying."

She stood up, her hands moving in the air-

Light is merely a visible interference on the electromagnetic spectrum...Light move in waves, waves have frequencies, frequencies have patterns, patterns are formulae...Let Light equal X, let wave length...

-And suddenly her hairband was glowing faintly, illuminating the area around them in a soft light.

"Of course I'll go with you. Now stand up and dance with me, you stupid boy, before I change my mind."

He would have been truly foolish not to take her outstretched hand. As it turns out, her rhythm was impeccable- though she did lack in style.

---

Zavakri arrived in Baldur's Gate sopping wet and cradling her work fervently in her arms like a mother would a sick babe. A storm had rolled in, ruined a portion of the harvest they'd come to sell, and forced Zavakri and Rirvudd to take shelter in a traveler's inn for several days before Zavakri managed to pry herself away from her lover. A storm could no longer delay her. A storm could no longer risk her timing.

She'd made sure of it. After their first few trips to Baldur's Gate, Zavakri's guidance and studies of the Markets coupled with Rirvudd's ability to talk a bird out of its feathers had resulted in the purchase of a low quality telescope. A low quality telescope had afforded Zavakri an infinite amount of study and furthering of her notes.

Her notes were now something precious indeed, and unless she was wrong- The math was there, it added up, it could not be wrong! The math is never wrong!- there was something very special happening indeed. She ran through the streets, her hood heavy with the rain but of that rustic farm quality that expects such burdens and thus still serviceable and safe to be wearing.

To her own senses, her footfalls felt like lightning and the echo of her steps rolled like the thunder. Haste was of the essence. It was happening tonight, and if she could prove it there's no way they'd turn her away this time!

Every trip she'd approach the sages of Baldur's Gate with her studies and findings only to be refuted and turned away or otherwise doubted by those with more practical education and study than her- prejudice against the plain peasant girl as brazen as a bull within the higher tier educated society of the big city.

Every trip she swore she'd return with more knowledge and more passion until one day she'd truly amaze them.

Turns out this was the trip, she was right.

The Garden had shifted in its orbit a fraction of a degree! The implications of such a thing-

While to the rest of us this may seem absolutely inconsequential and ludicrously infinitesimal, to those who watch the sky for a living such a claim has centuries of interest baked into it. For it to have been noticed by Zavakri of all people?

Why, it earned her a job. Doing exactly what she spent all those years on a hilltop doing for free, she was now to be paid and lauded for.

---

A year passed, her spirits higher than ever- but her mannerisms all the more eccentric. She and Rirvudd were engaged now, but their work kept them separate for much time. She was often required to keep an eye on some such thing in the stars, and his work had grown under her advisement from simple village merchant into that of a fledgling caravanner. Things were looking up for them.

It is perhaps unfortunate that the two had lost track of time in their joy. Rirvudd was away on a trip to Waterdeep when the news came and took Zavakri by storm; The Witchlight Carnival was returning. Her world shook, fractures appearing in the stable foundation of her life.

She'd never sought adventure before. Danger was something that happened to other people- her career was built on all the action happening an incomprehensible distance away!... but she had to go back. Curiosity had always been her greatest strength, and greatest weakness. She had to find out what had become of Detara.

She'd only been as certain of one other thing in her life.

Stat Generation
Rolled That 4d6 And Lived With It.

[User]
Witchlight Carnival
The Fourth Hour

What Happens Next...

The bugbear looks to Aurora, and with a wave of his hand, he reassures her and the rest of the group, "No, you haven't done anything wrong. While I don't know what they want to talk to you about, I can assure you that there's nothing to worry about. The bosses are in high spirits,"

He then turns to lead the group to management and repeats, "Please, come this way,"

[Assistant]
Tsak Vlos

---

Tsak starts to somewhat pay attention towards the end of the dual, clapping when everyone else does. She would notice Burly's nod, nodding back at him before looking around and following the bugbear.

[User]
Brutrumukk

Once the show was finally over for real this time, Brutrumukk picked up Jub and placed his newfound shoulder goblin on his shoulder. "That was some good stuff ya did back there, booyagh." Brutrumukk said to Jub as he made to clear out with the crowd. "Now that that's over, what say you an' I 'ead on over to the Feastin' Orchard again. I dunno about you, but I've got an 'unger on!" Before Jub could answer though, Burly the Bugbear would come along and ask the party to follow him to see the bosses. "Well this should be interestin'." Brutrumukk said to Jub before following the other Burly's lead and listening quietly to the conversations the others were having with this new bugbear.

[Assistant] Zavakri fell strangely silent and occupied herself at the rear of the party, mentally forming herself into a queue with the others, as the bugbear declared that the management needed to see them. Because of course it did; why else would they have been given tickets? She licked her lips, mentally preparing herself against the dread horror she experienced, as she followed along.


[System]
* Age: 22, although due to her height she's often thought to be younger.
* Gender: Female
* Race: Half-dwarf. All this really means is she'll live slightly longer than a human would (barring accidents or illness), is a bit short and has to shave roughly once a month.
* Appearance: Something like this. Like her dwarven ancestors, she often takes the no-nonsense approach to problems.
* Personality: To the casual observer, it would seem that Martina predominantly takes from her dwarfish side, being rather gruff and overly serious. She is an exceptionally hard worker and stubbornly refuses to give anything less than her all towards any given task. However, closer inspection will reveal that she does take quite a lot from her mother too, as she is rather open-minded and curious as humans are wont to be. To her, the most important thing is to follow her duty, and this combined with her dwarfish stubborness and her human recklessness means that if she is told to hold the line, she will damn well hold the line until her dying breath.
* Brief Backstory:Dwarfs are an uncommon sight in Thaln, but they're not entirely unknown of. Every so often, traders and merchants emerge from their mountain homes and head to human settlements, intending to trade the metals and gemstones they mined and the exceptional weapons and armour they smithed for materials and supplies that are much rarer in the mountains. And whilst many of them immediately return to the mountains when their business is done, one dwarf in particular found himself setting up permanent residence in Aimlenn. His name was Aaron Stonehammer, and with the skills and knowledge gained after over a century spent in the business he found himself being voted in as the head of the city's Merchants Guild. Such a position allowed him to mingle with the higher parts of society, and it wasn't very long before her met one Lady Lieselotte Blumenthal, a minor noble whose family had a strong association with the guild. Soon, despite how unorthodox it may have seemed to others, the two fell in love, and... Well, the result was Martina, formed from the rare union of dwarf and human.

Despite having to put up with a bit of prejudice due to her nature as a halfbreed, Martina seemed to grow up rather well-adjusted. Whilst she intends to eventually inherit the family business (as her father has taught her is the dwarfish tradition), she also had an inherent need to prove her martial prowess (...as her father has taught her is the dwarfish tradition). Thus, as soon as she was of age she joined the Iron Rose Knights... Although she often has to juggle her obligations to the knights with her obligation to learn the family trade, and occasionally takes time off to do so. Despite this, she's as dedicated to both as she can possibly be, a testament to the dwarf blood that flows through her veins.
* Equipment: Martina wields a finely crafted dwarven warhammer and shield, and wears a suit of mail under her tunic. The hammer is a heirloom of her father's side of the family, and as can be expected from an ancestral dwarfish weapon it is engraved with runes of magical power; due to this, it becomes superheated whenever she swings it with the intent to cause harm.
* Skills: Martina is a mighty warrior; she has to be, otherwise it would bring shame to her ancestors. She specializes in close-quarters combat, often charging into the thick of things where her hammer can do the most damage. As a testament to her dwarfish heritage, whilst on the warpath she is like the mountains; relentless, indomitable and refusing to budge an inch once she's dug herself in. Aside from warfare, she's also rather knowledgable in the fields of economics, and is able to easily appraise the value of numerous objects if given enough time to give them a good look over.

[User]
"... Th-that's jut the kinds of things I meant!" Bethany said, desperately, in response to Tiral's questioning. Was she not getting herself across better? Ahh, this was a bad idea, wasn't it... no, no, she had to focus and try and thing through. She was trying to be helpful, after all. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself down, exhaling heavily as she did, then inhaling once more. Calm down. Relax. Just reply.

"I-I have both. Guilder's modified scrying spell is p-perfect for the latter," she responded, "This is exactly what I mean, th-though! What you n-need is to build your spell l-library, so you can contribute in b-battle both in the front lines and in back. Y-you're above average in terms of magil, so y-you shouldn't be tiring easily."

There. That was... helpful, wasn't it?

---

As the argument escalated, the Princess's mood soured further and further. These were the Noble Iron Rose Knights, and yet here... not only were they speaking so ill of their captain, but they also showed no faith in their tradition. Certainly, Fanilly was inexperienced, but... wasn't Saint Elionne no older then sixteen, as well? Eliabelle herself was merely sixteen! This lack of faith almost felt like a personal insult. And then to mount an attack on the Immortal Knight herself... to say the least, the Princess had gone from cheerful to furious in a rather short span of time.

By the time another of the knights, one who was a foreign nobleman as well, approached and introduced himself, she was in no mood to talk.

"I'm sorry, Count Thorn," she began, her voice wavering but level as she turned to look away from the knights, "But I'm no longer in a mood to talk. The faithlessness of petulant children in knight's armor has thoroughly soured my mo-ah?!"

Eliabelle felt a hand wrap around her wrist and begin pulling her away. Immediately, she looked to see who it was, and was surprised to see the confusingly-diminutive form of the Immortal Knight tugging her along through the crowds.

"M... Marmalade? Ah, I haven't... eaten yet, er..." Eliabelle stumbled over herself, her anger cooling slightly as she was taken off-guard. Why she was introduced as a knight...?"

"Ah, er, you are, as I understand," she added, still rather off-center from her sudden abduction, "You... are a Duchess? I know you ascended to the position..."

She trailed off for a few moments...

---

Fanilly couldn't help but laugh a little to herself when she saw Tyaethe's reaction to Martina's comment. The smallish blonde probably wouldn't have acted so... physically, but that didn't stop her from finding it amusing. It helped cool the stress that she was reluctant to admit had been mounting slightly. She simply wasn't used to such large events, even as a noble girl. It didn't help that, moments later, there was quite a commotion from the direction Tyaethe had gone. Was there an argument? The Knight-Captain couldn't make out what was being said. Moments before she went to investigate, however, Tyaethe reappeared... dragging the Princess with her?

Fanilly looked on in shock as the taller girl came to a halt.

"P-Princess Eliabelle!" she said, abruptly, unprepared. She wasn't particularly composed or ready to speak with the Princess, but, well... there she was. "Your Highness, ah, this party has been splendid!"

And yet, the Princess seemed... flustered? Almost irritated...

"... I... I'm glad to hear that, Knight-Captain, and very happy to meet you at last," the Princess said, after taking a deep breath, "I'm pleased that you've been enjoying yourself, though I can't say the night has gone well any longer."

"... Ah? Your highness? What do you mean...?" Fanilly asked. Was this something to do with all that commotion...?

Before Eliabelle responded, Fanilly caught something out of the corner of her eye. It was... a pointed travelling hat? A long, bobbing staff? For a moment, the girl swore she saw the shape of a little girl... but as she turned to look entirely, she was gone.

What she did see was quite different.

A small, diminutive figure seemed to appear from no-where. She was female, by appearances, hooded and clad in a shirt and jacket, with leather armor on her arms and legs. She was incredibly short, and what could be glimpsed of her face was extremely pale skin, a bit of black hair hanging down beneath the hood, and crimson eyes.

The most important fact, however, was the small hand crossbow being leveled at the Princess.

Fanilly's eyes widened, and she did the first thing that came to mind.

"GET DOWN!"

She threw herself forward. Grabbing the surprised girl, she threw her to the ground, and felt a rush of air as the crossbow fired, and a bolt hurtled past them. It buried itself in the back wall.

Fanilly's head snapped up immediately, and she saw those crimson eyes widen.

"ASSASSIN!" the blonde girl cried, drawing her sword and leaping up to her feet, above a stunned and bewildered Eliabelle, "Iron Roses, to arms! Stop her!"

The small figure spun immediately and darted into the rapidly-clearing crowds. She was making for the exit...! How was it she hadn't been seen before?!

[Assistant]
Christina leaped forward as the bolt struck the wall. Silently cursing her inattentiveness, she was at her captain's side in an instant among the screaming crowd. She drew her dagger, a primarily defensive weapon suited for her. "Captain, I can guard the princess. The assassin may be running toward backup." Taking a defensive stance, she had already started whispering the Barrier spell under her breath.

Normally when she cast this spell, she used something metal as an anchor, but her shield was back at the Headquarters and the princess wasn't wearing any armor. Instead, Christina put more effort into the spell, willing it to settle into a dome around her and the princess. Only a slight shimmer in the air indicated that anything had happened, but the spell's effectiveness was confirmed when a nobleman ran full tilt into it, bouncing off and creating a ripple through the dome. Sweat beaded the knight's face as the spell drew more effort than it ever had before, but still she stood ready to fight anybody who made it inside her perimeter.

[User]
She'd ascended to the highest echelon of nobility? When? More importantly, how had she managed to achieve that and not even get notified of the change? Though maybe she had... it wasn't entirely impossible that she'd missed a written missive and paid no attention to a courier sent to explain it in person. If it was inheritance related, it could just be that nobody had thought to actually tell her and assumed that like all members of the nobility, large or small, Tyaethe cared about inheritance.

This was all rendered totally irrelevant.

Someone had tried to kill the princess. Someone had dared to attempt an assassination on the watch of the Iron Roses. Fanilly's order passed overhead, with the paladin's goal already set in stone: immobilise the criminal and search them if they happened to die. With anger still burning away, this seemed like a far more acceptable vent for her frustrations...

Tyaethe reflexively drew her blade, focusing on the diminutive assassin, and launched herself with disproportionate force. She clearly wasn't operating on mere physical limits, as no child could swing the sword easily... let alone somersault through the air for a devastating but blatant attempt to bisect their enemy. At range.

[Assistant]
"Oi!" It was the only response she could give Tyaethe, really, as the only knight even smaller than Martina immediately made a beeline towards the princess and began yelling really loud about the captain. Humans were such hypocrites, weren't they? After all, when Martina yelled the captain's praises that loud all she got was "quieten down, Martina" and "you're making a scene, Martina" and "my butt isn't really that big, Martina, stop talking about it please seriously".

Not especially wanting to fight with the undead knight, however, she merely quaffed back another ale. She'd lost count of how much she'd drank, really; for a dwarf, any question along the lines of "are you drunk?" was inevitably answered with three words: "I'm a dwarf".

Some of the other knights had started an argument, but thankfully Martina was too far away to hear. Dwarfs took tradition seriously, after all, and, well... She would've just started cracking heads together if she'd heard what was going on. Still, it seemed to upset the princess, who had been dragged off by Tyaethe and was mumbling something about marmalade as they passed her and Fanilly. But before she could make another off-colour remark...

"...ASSASSIN!" yelled the half-dwarf, louder and deeper than Fanilly could manage, her voice rumbling throughout the ballroom even as she ripped the hem of her dress (why was it so frilly? She looked like a bloody elf in this ugly thing!) and nodded to the captain, before immediately giving chase. The captain could take care of the princess, after all, but... But something as cowardly as an assassination attempt could not be forgiven. The would-be killer would have to answer to justice, and she was going to ensure it even if she had to beat an explanation out of them personally.

Martina screamed out... Something rather gutteral sounding in dwarfish as she lunged towards the assassin. Despite her small frame, she was half-dwarf, and underneath that nightmare of frills she was wearing lay a hard and compact series of muscle. To put it lightly, she was quite a bit stronger than her height implied, and with this muscle behind her she proceeded to try and tackle the assassin to the ground...


[System]
age: Appears about 24
Appearance: standing at about six feet and three inches, Cinead has a rather intimidating presence about him. He has a muscular rounded build to his body, with broad shoulders and a deep chest. His hair is a light chocolatey Brown in color, with infrequent blonde highlights, and has a natural curl to it that makes it crinkle and curl around his ears, forehead and neck. His skin is a darkly tanned caramel, lending an exotic feel to his sharp cheek bones, angled jawline, and his slightly slanted almond shaped eyes. These are hazel in their coloring, a dark green around the outer edges and a lighter caramel color around the pupils. He rarely smiles, but when this does happen, the emotion shows more strongly within his eyes.
 dragon appearance: easily the size of a double-decker bus, Cinead's dragon form has a classically European shape with a long neck and tail, four legs, and a massive pair of bat like wings. Primarily white in color, his throat, chin, belly, and underside of his tail darken to an ashy grey. His scales are then accented with the brightest of crimsons. The scales starting from his snout to about halfway down his long sinewy neck are edged in red along their back halves, The color slowly fading as it extends down onto his neck. Similarly, the same Crimson pattern extends the length of his tail, eventually fading as it reaches the point where the limb connects with his haunches. Each of his large wings appear as if they have been dragged through paint, each outermost tip drenched in The same fiery color with traces of it extending halfway up onto the limbs. Edges of red can also be seen adorning the majority of the scales on each of his paws. His triangular head sports a pair of slender ribbed horns that have a gentle curve to them as they extend away from his skull. In this form, his eyes are a bright golden yellow, with slitted cat like pupils.

[User] Anna had managed to calm herself after a minute. Who was she kidding with this stupid crush. Her reaction to him being so close probably a good enough sign of her feelings. She might as well write it on her forehead to make it any more obvious at this point. He looked pensive again and she just mentally sighed. It was pointless to try and hide it, but she might as well do it anyway. If he had to think it was more likely to be a no. "It's not your fault. Besides, you seem to like being a bit aloof." She joked lightly. "And tip for the future, don't do that to every girl you encounter." She added as she gestured to their hands and how close they were. "You could send the wrong idea to them or anyone else." She smiled a little and slowly removed her hand from his. She noticed that her hand felt a little cold because she wanted to continue holding his hand, but she ignored the feeling and put her head back down.

[Assistant] The corners of his mouth quirked up as some semblance of her good humor returned. "Force of habit." Cinead said in the way of explanation to his being evasive in the details he shared. His eyebrows then lifted as Anna then offered some advice, gesturing with her free hand to their proximity and her hand still engulfed in his. He felt a distinctive, and rather surprising, sense of loss as she pulled her hand free a moment later, his hand somewhat colder than it had been before. Disguising the baffling sense of discomfort by tilting his head and lifting his eyebrows Cin leaned back in his seat the rest of the way, pulling his hand back into his lap. "that is good advice. If any other girl in the future should show a desire to be Friends with me, I will do my best to refrain from giving them the wrong idea." She had once again placed her head back on the table and he allowed himself one brief furrow of his eyebrows before he had to look away, the professor finally heading towards the front of the room and calling the class to order.

[User] "Interesting habit." She chuckled. He seemed surprised by something when she gave him her small piece of advice and supposed it was normal. He probably thought she wanted more physical contact because of her crush or something. She usually preferred a small distance when it came to touching the person she had a crush on. The flood gates opened when and if they started dating. She nodded and chuckled a little. "Yeah, you don't want every girl you meet having a crush on you." She joked as she put her head down. She lifted her head soon after she heard the professor come into the room. She mumbled something about her car having a bit of trouble, which was why she was a little late this morning.

[Assistant]
If any other girl would even talk to me... Cinead thought ruefully as he pulled out a notebook and pencil from his bag, clicking lead into place and focusing his gaze onto the professor, who had started a lecture on what he assumed had something to do with muscle structures, if the diagram he had pulled up on the projector was anything to go by. But after a few seconds, he found himself blinking, having not taken in a word that have been said, his thoughts distracted. Attempting to focus his thoughts, Cin repeated the next several sentences in his head, putting pencil to paper and trying to discern relevant information. Gradually, his thoughts drifted once more however, casting a few surreptitious looks towards Anna. Absently, he doodled in his notebook, beginning to go over the benefits and consequences of pursuing a relationship with the woman next to him.

Before he knew quite how it happened, he found himself blinking down at a halfway decent picture he had drawn of a dragon rearing up on its hind legs, wings partially unfurled as a gout of flames shot from its open maw. Considering the image thoughtfully, wondering if his more instinctual side was trying to tell him something, Cin tapped an image standing behind the dragon, a young woman with curly dark hair, watching the dragon with the look of adoration... At that moment, he found himself coming to a conclusion. Perhaps, if he was careful, he could pursue a relationship with Anna. Though he hoped that the image he had drawn on the page before him never came true. Not even strong loving Anna would be able to look at him with any level of admiration if she knew what he truly was...

There was a sudden flurry of motion around him, People standing and collecting bags and books, chatting happily with their neighbors. It took several seconds for Cinead to register what was going on, why people were quite suddenly leaving the room. The lecture was over. Glancing back down at his notebook, not a single sentence having been written, he released a brief huff of wry amusement. He had wasted the entire hour in his own mind. Glancing towards Anna, he revised his thought. He had spent his time wisely considering The best decision to make on a serious situation.

"would you still like to go to lunch together?" He asked, hopeful that she was still in a good enough humor to go with him.

[User]
Anna had managed to push most of her thoughts away for the first half of the lecture. She had drawn a few diagrams and taken a good amount of notes. She did, however, start zoning out when the professor went on a semi-tangent and started talking about how she had met her husband over a muscle injury. Her mind drifted to why she felt so randomly drawn to the man next to her. Usually it took her longer to develop a crush. But she guessed a lot of things were different when it came to Cin. She never really met guys like him, not to mention as tall. He also had this way of being that seemed so foreign but also extremely intriguing(and admittedly a little alluring).

She had caught herself accidentally messing up a previously perfect picture of a muscle sprain with small doodles of hearts and small faces that were in a daze. Great. She really hoped she could save that particular diagram later.

Anna tuned back into the class for the last few minutes and managed to take a few more notes after that. Anna glanced over at Cin and wondered if he was gonna still go for lunch and was a bit happy when he did. She finished putting her stuff away and silently vowed to read the textbook chapter again as she smiled up at him with a nod. "Of course." The small girl felt a vibrate in her pocket and would check it while he was ordering or something.

[Assistant] Collecting his things and placing them back into his bag, Cinead got to his feet and stretched, his back popping after having sat in one position for so long. Glancing down at Anna, he felt relieved as a characteristic smile touched her face. "excellent. Where would you like to go?" He inquired, trying to remember some of the other nearby restaurants. He thought he remembered there being some sort of vegan restaurant that was being advertised and silently hoped that Anna didn't have any desire to go there, he hated most vegetables. He heard her phone vibrate, but she didn't check it immediately, And Cin briefly wondered if her texting earlier had been the cause for her momentary display of depression.

[User] Anna stood up after him, making sure she had everything before getting ready to go out for lunch. "Hmm, since we went for sandwiches yesterday, why not go for some pizza? There is this awesome place a bit farther than the deli, but I love it there." She explained, a somewhat hungry look flashing across her face. Having some good food would be a great distraction from her crush on him right now. That and she was just dying for an excuse to get a 3 cheese pizza from there again. It was heavenly the last time she ordered some. "It's called Buchelli's Pizza, have you been there before?" She asked as she started to walk out of the classroom with Cin.

[Assistant]
Following after Anna and then adjusting his stride to allow the shorter woman an easier time of walking next to him, Cinead considered the proposition of going to get pizza. He had never personally tried that particular food, not having found the idea of cheese covered bread appealing to his carnivorous appetite. And from what he remembered, they had a tendency to put vegetables on the top. He hated vegetables. But perhaps, in light of his recent commitment and the obvious excitement he could tell Anna had for the idea, he would give Pizza a try.

"No, I've never been. I have honestly never tried pizza before. But you sound excited about it." He said, working on being a bit more honest and open about his thoughts. " i'm not opposed to going."

[User]
Anna had been able to keep up with him, especially with his adjusted stride. She silently cursed his long legs but pulled out her phone to look at the website for the place. "Let us see what's on the menu, eh?" She giggled with glee. She had been about to rattle off the specials and general types of pizza on said menu but then he had mentioned that he had never tried pizza before. The shorter girl paused, looked up at him and gasped.

"Never had pizza?! What next?! You never had ice cream-no! Don't answer that! That's it! We are taking you this second to try some!!! The specials of the day are the Ultimate Meat Lovers and Hawaiian, but I can get you a normal cheese to see how you like the plain." She marched up to him, grabbed his wrist and started marching ahead of him with a determined look on her face. She had been so occupied with the idea of him needing to try pizza, she didn't even realize they were kind of holding hands again.

[Assistant] What on earth is ice cream... Cinead thought confusedly, Drawing his eyebrows together and casting a baffled expression towards Anna. He was about to ask her when she preemptively stopped him, as if the idea was somehow painful to her. Before he could quite wrap his head around this idea, she had determinedly marched up to him, taking his wrist in a firm grasp and beginning to tow him out of the building at a quick pace, resolutely stating that she was bound and determined to get him to try pizza. The entire thing had another laugh bubbling up from his chest. "The meat lovers sounds promising." He mused aloud, hopeful at the idea of a pizza promoted specifically to those who loved to eat meat. Perfect for a carnivore.

[User] She looked even more pained when he had a baffled expression on what Ice cream was. "We'll revisit ice cream another day." She sighed. The shorter of the 2 grinned at his laugh. At least he found this amusing. "Yes the Meat Lovers there is so good! It's smothered in pieces of steak, bacon and ham. It's almost as good as the 3 cheese in my opinion." She explained as they exited the building and started through the small crowd that was outside of it. Anna groaned again but started pushing through, her determined look growing a bit more intense as she lead him through .

[Assistant]
Steak, bacon, and ham. All things he had luckily previously tried and found to be enjoyable, most notably the steak. And that made him feel less apprehensive about trying pizza. He made an agreeable noise in his throat in response.

After a moment, Cinead began to notice that the crowd was beginning to part much more quickly before them, making the going easier. That either had something to do with Anna's determination and the expression on her face or the wide berth people usually gave him. Whichever the underlying cause, he was grateful for the decrease in the press of bodies. "Will we be needing to drive or will we be all right to walk the distance?" He finally asked, trying to judge the trajectory of their path.

[User] Anna was pleased with his agreement. "You still have to try plain pizza before you get the Meat Lovers." She reminded him as she continued dragging him. Cin was not the only one who noticed the now somewhat easier trek through the crowd. Maybe it was for Cin and nobody wanting to be in the big guy's way. She looked back at him when he asked about how they were going to get there. "We can walk. It's a couple stores down from the deli we ate at yesterday." She explained as the emerged from the crowd. "Do you want to get something from your car before we go?"

[Assistant]
"As you wish." Was his response to her insistence that he needed to try plain pizza before he got to the meat lovers. Cheese, he supposed, should be relatively acceptable. And Anna was most likely not going to let him get out of trying the plain easily, So there really wasn't any point to fighting her about it. He could except the experience to try something new. Although he probably would have to draw the line at vegetables. Hopefully nothing of the sort came up.

Giving his head a shake as Anna looked back towards him and asked about needing to go to his car, Cinead said, "There's nothing there that I need, no. I was merely curious if it would be easier to get to our destination by driving. But if it is just a little past where we bumped into each other yesterday, I have no complaints about walking." His eyes lit with amusement at the memories of yesterday, crinkling somewhat around there edges.


[System]
Alias: Gunrat, Bluebird
Age: 23
Team:
 Free Agent
Powers:
 Superhuman reflexes, free-floating individually focusing eyes, pain resistance, and the ability to dislocate any body part at will.

Weaknesses:
 Bullets, knives, drowning, fire, explosions

Personality:
 A violent chain-smoker, easily unhinged, with very little regard for individual human life. She's a strong believer in "the ends justify the means", and wouldn't hesitate to kill one person herself if it meant saving five. She holds deep resentment for sentimental heroes, and those who attach themselves to trivial things. If they aren't using the most direct solution to a problem, no matter how inconsiderate, they're wasting time. Nonetheless, she holds heroes like Batman and Raven in the highest regard, simply on account of their abilities and accomplishments. Also, while efficiency is her ideal, her own mental trauma does make her prone to emotional outbursts, if provoked.

Appearance:
 Xiu is Chinese-American, 5'4", with a round, flat face, sickly pale skin, wide eyes, thin eyebrows, and a large forehead. Her head is shaved down the middle, with amber-died ponytails on either side. Her build is slim, but also very fit. She wears steel-toed boots, work jeans, and a thick leather jacket. Hidden within her jacket are four holsters (two on her chest, and two at the hip), carrying various members of her pistol collection. Strapped to her thigh is a combat knife, and rattling in her jacket pocket is a switch-blade. She keeps a red kerchief tied around her head, and wears oversized aviator glasses during the day.

During times of emergency, or when acting in a more public role, she wears a blue and black, masked superhero uniform, with a metallic collar and chestplate. A parting gift from Bluebird. On formal occasions, she wears a plain green dress, with a black sash around the waist.

Brief Bio:
 Xiu was born the daughter of two Taiwanese political activists, who made it their goal in life to delegitimize the Chinese government, and incite civil war. When pro-Taiwan protests began breaking out around China in the early 2000's, her parents were at the very front of the movement. Fearing that this civil unrest could spread, the government used military force to break up the protests, sending citizens fleeing to their homes. That night, police operatives broke into the homes of those involved in inciting the protests, including Xiu's parents. They were imprisoned, interrogated, and eventually killed, leaving her as a child of the state. Needless to say, no media sources were allowed to cover this, and the world went on completely unaware.
 From early childhood, Xiu was raised by various agents of the Chinese Ministry of State Security. Their goal was to train an assassin to infiltrate the governments of Taiwan and Japan, giving China direct leverage over the life and death of any neighbouring state officials who might stand in the country's way. Training included various mental and physical experiments, in an attempt to make her more agile and durable than a normal human. Chemical and surgical treatments overclocked her brain, reinforced her muscle fibers, and replaced her joints, boosting her agility, intelligence, and flexibility beyond normal human means, but left her nervous system fried and numbed, and her personality a neurotic mess. In spite of these setbacks, her resourcefulness surpassed their expectations. As a teen, she was able to hack into the ministry's computer network, and review all of the ministry's data, including her own file. Learning of her parent's cause in full detail, and how expendable she was to the state that killed them, she decided that she owed nothing to the government that, up to that point, she'd viewed as her only parent. Distraught, she became uncooperative to her handlers and teachers. Before too long, it was decided that she was a lost cause, and was scheduled for a quick execution. Learning of this, she subdued her guards, and sneaked out of the facility.
 She made it to Shanghai, where she survived for a year by robbing street vendors, before sneaking onto a freighter on its way to America. Into her late teens and early adulthood, she saw the heroic deeds of the Justice League, and saw a new, constructive purpose for herself, beyond mere survival. She viewed her own life as having been stolen from her, and wanted to ensure that others wouldn't suffer the same loss of life, whether metaphorical or literal. She eventually made a name for herself, apprehending kidnappers and robbers (keeping whatever money they had on them for herself, of course). Eventually, after thwarting a terrorist plot in New York, she drew the attention of the Justice League.
 Although physically skilled, the league determined that she was far too unstable, and certainly didn't fit the image of "hero" they were trying to project to the world. They rejected her request to join their ranks, and advised her to leave heroics to heroes. Since then, she continued to work alone, walking a fine line of fighting crime without stepping on the League's toes. Eventually, she set up shop in Gotham, where she encountered another rejected hero known as Bluebird. Both fans of Batman's results, although perhaps unsatisfied with his gun-less tactics, the two worked well together, and shut down several drug-rings in the city.
 Unfortunately, Bluebird's continued successes put her brother, her only living relative in the area, in a great deal of danger. Gotham crime syndicates began targeting him, as a proxy for getting to Bluebird. When push came to shove, family came first, and Bluebird stepped down from heroism, leaving her alias to Xiu. Xiu, who up til then had fought without a mask or uniform, used this identity for her larger operations and conflicts, where she might be caught and identified by the media. This false identification had the bonus impact of making Xiu's enemies look for an opponent who wasn't there. Harper Row, the original Bluebird, had long since left the city, leaving a ruthless superhero with no alter-ego to terrorize. Even the Justice League remains unaware of Bluebird's new wearer, giving Xiu a lot of leeway with her actions. Of course Batman, the one hero who knew Bluebird enough to notice a change, has yet to address the change.
 Now, with the rise of Brainiac, and the fall of Metropolis, Xiu intends to help the remaining heroes whether they like it or not. She'll hunt down Brainiac's drones, thinning the herd, and wait for the League to take action. She has her mind set on Justice League membership, and intends to prove herself to them, whatever it takes. Of course, she has more urgent reasons to fight Brainiac, including protecting her own friends, who help keep her supplied while she's on this quest.

[User]
The remaining founders of the Justice League walked over to the rest of the group. Batman noted what he'd heard in the numerous conversations. The knight was strictly about the endgame and damning anything to do with science or machinery. The 'deaths' weighed heavy on this one, who removed his helmet. Superbeast and Captain Marvel were steadily becoming friends, as were Static and Bluebird. Doctor Light seemed more interested in the civilians they had saved and brought back to base camp outside of Metropolis. Starfire watched over her friend, Raven, who was still unconscious. Kid Flash looked to be trying to regain some of his energy eating several of the protein bars and MRE's the military had provided.

"Everybody listen up..." Batman spoke getting everyone's attention, "Nightwing as well as the remaining civilians in the city are being held under what used to be the Daily Planet. As some of you have noticed many of the drones seem all too similar, and it isn't their programming. I've estimated around 90% of the techno-zombie drones we've been facing are in fact duplicates of the League's multiplying man, Ditto..."

"Nightwing's alive?!? That's the best news I've heard in days!" Superbeast responded.

"Before Brainiac can build a larger army we need to take down the remaining three drone generators and find out where he's keeping the original Ditto. If Ditto can't be saved we'll have to take him down." the Flash commented.

"We're gonna call it a day for the most part, however Batman has stated he's going back in to attempt to free Nightwing." Wonder Woman said crossing her arms almost as if she disapproved of Batman trying to go in alone yet again.

"I asked you not to tell them, Wonder Woman..." Batman said in his usual tone.

"While Batman didn't ask for help, any League members wishing to volunteer may do so. Those of you in Young Justice will be sitting this one out..." the Amazon continued noticing what appeared to be a metahuman flying towards them in the sky, "Batman, were you expecting...?"

"He's here." Batman said to the point.

~KL~

[Assistant]
The Captain's eyes lit up at the mention of Nightwing's status. This seemed to be just the news the two teams needed to get their spirits up. Now Billy had to consider going with Batman or not. Sure, his extra fire power could be the turning point in the battle to save Nighwing and all those civilians, but if he left then he couldn't defend the safe zone if the 'all mighty' Brainiac decided that Metropolis wasn't big enough for his huge ego. Ultimately, the crimson clad hero knew that he couldn't just stand by while his fellow Leaguers got to go out and bring the fight to Brainiac whilst saving their fellow hero and a load of civilians.

"I'll go with ya, Bats! Still got some kick left in me, stamina of Atlas and all that..." Captain Marvel proclaimed as he stepped towards Batman and Wonder Woman with an eager look on his face. When the approaching meta got closer Billy tried to stifle his laughter at the individual's means of flying. Ever since the appearance of Darkseid Billy normally burst out laughing when he would see a super-being flying in a standing position. Billy kept his humor to himself though since he didn't want to offend the incoming flyer, at least not yet.

[User]
Finn was still in a bad mood and people seemed to still be trying to just look on the bright side of this situation. His annoyance rose a bit when Wonder Woman said to call it a day and he rolled his eyes. How on earth could she call it a day when there was still a mechanical menace out there that had enslaved several members of the league? It seemed like he was the only one besides Batman that was taking this situation seriously and now the subject of the Caped Crusader going back to find his old sidekick was brought up. William wanted to kill some more techno-zombies and continue his crusade against this evil science.

"I'll join you Batman, my sword is still hungry for the flesh of these sinful scientific monstrosities" he replied to them as he held his longsword firmly in his right hand, the blade glinting in the sunlight. His attention was then drawn to the figure flying towards them, Batman seemed to know this new individual and William wondered if this was good news or something bad.

"Are they friend or foe?!" he said firmly to Batman and was curious to hear the league founder's response. If this new person was an enemy then they were going to have a taste of God's fury.

[Assistant]
From a distance, the flying figure was merely a dark silhouette with a white cape buffeting dramatically in the breeze. As he drew closer, certain details became apparent: The newcomer looked, aside from the flying, like a normal, well-formed human youth. Dark of hair and strong of feature, he was well-groomed with a air of authority about him. His facial features, well... were familiar. Frightening even, in their familiarity.

He could tell that he was being observed; that was the point. Low altitude, slower speed on the approach. Let himself be seen, and see them. The nonverbal responses from the military present were a clustering of shock, reservation, and suspicion. The strange newcomer's approach slowed further as he neared the group of Earth's Heroes. He settled lightly upon the ground a few paces from the two Justice League founders, Batman and Wonder Woman, and walked the remaining four steps required to enter range for polite conversation.

Up close and personal, the reason for the odd looks was obvious: This person was a dead ringer for the Last Son of Krypton, the inestimable paragon of righteousness, Superman. Details were off, of course. He had green eyes, bright and intelligent, and a slightly more slender grace about himself, hinting at dexterity training necessary to a person that did not rely on nigh invulnerability.

He spoke with a solid, confident voice, initiating conversation stiffly. "Thank you for receiving me, Sir, Lady, though I recall requesting Diplomatic Courtesy on behalf of an Envoy of Almeracian Royalty. As this request was summarily ignored, I can only assume that you have something of greater importance taking priority?"

His eyes darted about, taking in details around him. "Please forgive my impatience. I had a long journey here. I am Maxus-El, First Prince of Almerac, of the Imperial Bloodline."

He pressed a small white strip of material to the inside of his cheek and handed it over to the two Founders. "Run this through your biometrics, such as it is. It will confirm my identity and relation to two members of your League. It was Mother's wish that I enter the ranks of the Justice League. She was insistent that it was a worthwhile endeavor, and that as a Legacy I would be given direct consideration."

"In the meantime, what is the situation? I am noting indications elevated stress, unless you Terrans always look like this."