[System]
Gender: Female

Age: 16

Appearance:

"Which one of us is the mask?"
Arcana: Temperance

Personality:
On the surface, Shizuka may be the stereotypical "ojou-sama" (young mistress), from her formal speech to her delicate mannerisms with a blend of shy and soft spoken side, but do not let that deceive you as the class dismissal bell rings and Shizuka's part time hour begins, the counterpart she created for herself, Shizu-chan, takes the spotlight with her lively demeanor, friendly smiles, and undying passion of being an otaku.

Equipment/Skills:
Twirling Baton (Cosplay prop, can be upgraded to Rod weapons)
Sewing, professional make up, baton twirling, which were all gained from her experience with cosplay.

Background:
Being a balanced student with an appropriate amount of intellect and proper physical fitness, one would say Shizuka is an average high schooler if it weren't for the fact that her family was of a higher class compared to that of an average student. Like most children coming from a wealthy family, Shizuka was left alone most of the time, with the exception of servants, by her parents in their mansion with no one to play or interact with. Not necessarily neglected, but she didn't mind either way as she was an obedient child and she understood that both her parents were flooded with work which needed to be taken care of.

This is why she sought out a hobby to preoccupy herself with. Flipping through the channels as a curious child, she abruptly stopped when an animated female character on the screen magically transforms, with all the colorful lights and sparkles, and shouts, "In the name of the moon, I will punish you!" Eyes widened in amazement, Shizuka could not take her gaze away from the television screen while her thoughts were of how exciting whatever this was and how she wanted to become like them, hues of hair she's never seen before, costumes of different variety and color, and the dynamic personalities each one had.

Years had passed since then, but her love and excitement for anime never wavered. What remained though was her calm, delicate nature she presented towards her fellow classmates, friends, and parents. Her passion for anime (and now manga) was to not leave the four corners of her room. Shizuka would occasionally show hints of interest when her classmates discussed about them but no one, and she means NO ONE, should ever find out about how "otaku" she was.

Keeping all of this within her had limits and before she was about to breakdown, someone on the hallway of the school uttered the word, "cosplay". It took quite awhile for her to learn the meaning and to take enough courage to disguise herself in the colorful costumes and hair she once saw years ago, to find people of similar interests without them ever finding out her true self.

With the positive reactions given by the people she has met, Shizuka continued to create more disguises by her own hands, to the point where she landed at her current part time job at the cosplay cafe as Shizu-chan, the persona she presented to the people of the otaku world.

Persona: Inari Ōkami

Appearance: Illustrated by: Sho Minazuki

Abilities:
Twin Slash - 2 light Slash attacks. (1 enemy)
Tarukaja - Increases 1 ally's Attack.
Tarunda - Decreases 1 foe's Attack.

[User]
???
6/7/2015 - Monday
@Vulkan

TRACK: Aria of the Soul

As their vision returned to them, they beheld a long dining room. The first thing they would notice is the decor, blue all over, in different tasteful shades and high class furnishings. Paintings along the wall depicting some rather specific events. In front of them on the table was a carving depicting a particular number and card, for Jun, it was "The Devil", while for Katsuro, it was "The Justice". As they looked down they noticed that their clothes were different too. Katsuro wore a simple suit under a dark blue hood with gold trimmings and a side cape, while Jun wore a three piece suit, fully done up in proper.

"Welcome, to the Velvet Room", they heard a voice, they looked to the end of the table to see a man with a long nose and wide, piercing eyes. It was certainly a strange person they were looking at.

"A place between mind and matter, dream, and reality. I, am Igor, only those who have signed a contract may enter this place, and it appears we've finally filled every seat at this table too", they looked around to the other seats. It was true, every other table had a silhouette sitting at it, but some of them were recognizable.

"And this is Henrietta, she will be helping you along your journey", he motioned to the long haired woman next to him.

"Now then... You have drawn, the Devil Arcana. Impulse and sin are nothing new to you, but impulse and sin no matter the reason, is still a mere distraction. It appears you have overcome this and come to realize what you truly want", he began.

"And now... You, have drawn, the Justice Arcana. One must seek guidance amidst a time of crisis, for a long time you have gone into disarray, as there was no one you could refer to, but that will have changed now, perhaps these new friends you have made, will be there to fill the gap", it was a personal topic, but more importantly... How did this man know about all this? When either would try and ask, they would find no voice left their mouth.

"For now...", Igor clicked his fingers and Henrietta left, shortly to return with two keys on a cushion, that she would begin to walk around the table and hand to both Jun and Katsuro.

"These are keys you may use to access this room again, you will return here later of your own accord, or of requirement, but until then... Farewell", and with that, they lost consciousness.

[Assistant]
Kotori Shirohane - Sapphire Inn: Royal Suite Main Room | Sunday, July 5 2015

In the opening wrought by Akane's assault, Sato managed to deliver the decisive blow - his arrow loosened the large Shadow's grip on its sword further yet and the follow-up wind blast finally struck it clean out of its hand. With the knights stunned from the heavy bombardement, everyone was quick to realise that this was their opportunity - and thus all attention was focused on the main opponent. Momentarily unable to strike back, the attacks poured in from all sides - magical and physical, the Shadow came under heavy fire until it was reeling. It attempted to fight back even as its princess was slain, a certain distress audible even through its twisted voice - until a choice arrow fired by Sato finally breaking its desperate defense - and making the fatal opening which allowed him get a clean hit with Chronos' wind magic. He seized the opportunity to lay down a final follow-up together with his Persona to put the Shadow down for good.

Kotori, meanwhile, kept an eye out throughout it all - ever wary for any would-be surprises from either the Shadow or its knights - but also doing what she could to aid the assault with her Kikuri-Hime's help, lending her lightning strikes to the assault. It was only when the Shadow finally began to flicker and disperse that Kotori gave a sigh of relief - and the fatigue of the fight made itself known in full, even as the armour surrounding the knights began to dissolve in flakes and gave way to the unconscious prisoners therein. Kotori took a moment to catch her breath - even as she felt the almost familiar uncomfortable feeling as the shadow, now in its original form, began to speak.

As ever, it unashamedly spoke of the feelings that had been suppressed and locked away - a look at another person's inner thought which was no doubt embarassing for them, but also for Kotori who still didn't know how to balance wanting to help the conflicted kidnapees and also respecting their privacy in such moments. As such, there was little choice but to listen though - even as Jun stepped out from the protective circle that had been formed around her by the party and confronted her shadow. Kotori didn't recognise the girl - at best, she was vaguely familiar much in the vein of other schoolmates whom she might have seen but never talked to before.

Much like the times before, she couldn't help but feel some measure of worry about what might happen if Jun didn't accept this turn of events and denied her other side - but much to Kotori's relief, this did not come to pass. Instead, Jun acknowledged that, though she may not like it, she was acting in a manner that she herself no longer knew the real reason for - and instead chose to live her life according to her own choices and on her own merits. A small smile came across Kotori's face at those words - which in turn marked the transformation of the shadow; a bright light cast across the entire room as a new figure took its place: Mordred, Jun's persona.

The girl turned to face the group, evidently full of questions about what had just happened - but those would have to be answered at a later time as the tell-tale signs of fatigue made themselves known; forcing Jun to sit herself down lest she fall - which immediately preceded the loss of consciousness. Though she'd seen this pattern repeat several times now, Kotori still couldn't help but worry that everything was alright; even as everyone else started to get ready to leave the mirror world behind with Jun being carried and headed for the hospital. Having used the brief exchange as an opportunity to catch her breath, Kotori accompanied the others - at least until everyone went their separate ways from the warehouse that marked their entrance to the mirror realm.

It would be with no small amount of relief that Kotori arrived arrive at home - both knowing that another kidnapping victim was safe but also to be able to lay down to rest; even if it didn't last too long before she recalled that the finals were coming up soon and she still had some studying to do for the day.

Kotori Shirohane - Warakuma High School: Classroom 2-2 | Monday, July 6 2015 - Morning

This time around, it seemed that the usual rumour mill surrounding the kidnappings was quite a bit quieter - which didn't come as too much of a surprise, seeing as the events had occured over the weekend and thus couldn't cause quite as much of a commotion as some of the previous incidents when the victims didn't show up for class. Still, Kotori still heard her fair share of stories being murmured on her way to her classroom - and not few of them were quite clearly being told as second-hand accounts or worse, seeing as there would have to have been at least a dozen kidnappings all over town for all the things she heard to be true.

Stymying the usual spread too were the not upcoming finals which hung over the whole school - some seemed to have already given up hope, others were just putting things off until whilst Kotori couldn't help but feel the usual pre-exam worries, even before the immediate tests began. In fact, she felt even more thereof as she had to regretfully decline multiple requests from other students that she helped them study - between her own studying, helping out at home, occasional forays into the mirror world and club meetings, she wouldn't have much of a reliable schedule; not even taking into account the fact that just imagining herself somehow trying to teach others made her nervous at the prospect.

Taking her seat in the classroom toward the front, Kotori gave a small sigh - but this time because she had inadvertantly reminded herself of the Agriculture Club meeting that was to take place later today. Whilst the colourful sight of the many flowers was always welcome, the same could not be said for the strange mood that hung between her fellow members, Shizuka and Matthew. Both seeing them as they were and also not knowing whether or how to help would do ittle to raise her mood for the rest of the day - which she already wasn't looking forward to, as she'd have to be paying a visit to the hospital later.


[System]
---

Arcane Archer Fighter 20Save the world... redeem myself.

[User]
Vale Detherwood

---

Vale quickly finished the book she was reading. There was an invitation to join everyone for dinner, though that mattered little to the halfling. She would join up, but no sense keeping herself from finishing this last book. There wasn't that much left anyway. The rest of the party had left the room by the time she closed the book. She wasn't far behind, but she wasn't in any rush. As long as they didn't start with dessert first, that is. Happily she skipped along, eyeing the comfortable decor as she searched for the feast.

It wasn't that hard to find, though it seemed she wasn't going to be the latest one. Rather than sitting down immediately, Vale circled the table eyeing the meal that was prepared. It looked wonderful. It almost made her mouth water, but there wasn't anything out that truly interested her; opting not to grab any of the food laid out. Finding an open vacant seat, she hopped in her now claimed chair and began humming to herself. Shame that her dress wasn't made yet. It would've looked lovely at a dinner like this. "Well then. Sorry I'm late, though it doesn't seem like I missed too much. Just finishing looking at some of the books. Anyone find anything on the giants up north? If not, is fine; I plan on studying the night away if our host would be so permitting. I can also round out searching for topics any of us might needed extra time on. Oh, and do tell me if you visit the gardens of Carnessa. I found a book, written in one of those infernal languages of course; but it looked like the most beautiful places. Much better than the forest I lived in for most of my life."

[Assistant]
Janine  Fawkes
Scrapmouse

Scrapmouse was generally bored by the small talk that Ava and the others participated in, but the magic items that Ava produced certainly caught her attention. An earstone of communication was good. An orb of mind reading? Damn, too bad she had a lot of stuff attuned to her already. And the deck of illu--wait, that wasn't a deck of illusions! That was a Deck of Many Things! Was that Lady Ava dumb or crazy?! Before she could warn the group, one of them decided to draw a card and he lost all of his items and clothes. The tinkerer gnome couldn't help but hold her stomach and point at him as she laughed and fell to the ground.

It was only after she calmed down that she warned the other heroes, "Guys, that ain't a Deck of Illusions. That's a Deck of Many Things! You'd have to be really desperate to draw from there! There's more cards that'll bring a Fate worse than Death than there are Good cards in there," She didn't know whether anyone heard her, but she continued to the library regardless.

The first hour was spent tinkering, if anything to keep her mind of the potential future of a Battle Royale. Her tinkering produced another little Firestarter. She lost the last one she had, and who knows? Maybe she can use it to make future explosives explode in the near future? Hehe.

The second and third hours were spent studying on Dragons and Giants, considering she was going to go there. Maybe she'll read up on the undead too, just in case? That'll be a topic for later. But regardless, she studied up and learned at least the basics. While she read and adjusted her goggles, Sparky laid nearby, acting like a normal cat, waiting patiently for its master to finish or move. Despite how crazy and twitchy Scrapmouse seemed on the outside, her quiet and diligent studying came to the surface. Sometimes muttering could be heard under her breath as she committed the important facts to memory.

Her head snapped upwards and she lifted her goggles up when Vincente poked his head in, and let everyone know that there was a feast. Sparky mimicked her reaction by lifting his head and gazing towards Vincent. The gnome cheered "Haha! Heck yeah! I'm starving!" Pass out on a free meal? Who would be crazy enough to do that? Besides she needed to share her findings and start planning a strategy.

She made her way to where the feast was and she grabbed her own plate of food. She listened carefully to what everyone else had to offer in regards to information. A circle of teleportation from the cleric, and the half-orc can ask his god for anything in regards to anything needing to be affirmed or denied. The bard clearly asked around, only to end up with little to no information.

After everyone seemed to finish sharing their information, she spoke up, her shrill voice showing excitement and eccentricity,

"Alright! I've got a lot of information to share wit' ya! I did some digging on Dragons and Giants in general. Can't go in assuming we know everythin' already! The information I found may be useful for any strategies! So, listen up!"

After taking another bite of bread and swallowing she continued,

"The Dragon is a white dragon, which means that it's a cold based dragon. Yesyesyes, I know. Obvious! OBVIOUS! But-But--! This is good! White dragons, see, are not very smart. Very bestial! But still dangerous, especially if it's an ancient. Unfortunately, there's no real weaknesses to exploit. They do not have a weakness to fire, no they do not!"

A gulp of water to wet her throat to keep the information coming,

"The Dragon is strongest in their lair, and they know it! It's a bad, bad, bad idea to fight them in their lair. WORST IDEA EVER! ...But probably unavoidable. Trying to lure the dragon out might not work! But if we have to fight in the lair, we can use fire to melt stuff in there, and lessen the dragon's strength,"

Another gulp of water,

"Now giants...There are many different kinds! But despite their differences, they see each other as kin. They have their own caste system called the Ordning! Each giant has a social rank and knows who is superior or inferior to it. The place in the Ordning is determined by analyzing a different combination of skills or qualities. Excelling in these skills or qualities is the purpose of a giant's life. The races of giants follow this system. The highest at the Caste are the Storm Giants. Then there's the Cloud giants, Fire giants, Frost Giants, Stone Giants, Hill Giants, and then the giant kin like...ogres, fomorians, and ettins. If a giant were to disrespect or betray a giant of another type, is just considered rude, not evil."

Downed the entire goblet of water,

"So, in conclusion..."

She raised her fingers and counted as she spoke,

"One: We may be dealing with Storm Giants if they've somehow got an Ancient White Dragon to join forces with them.
Two: Best way to beat the dragon is to lure it out of the lair, but...it's not dumb enough to be simply lured out.
Three: Can't turn the giants against each other.
And Four...!"

She paused and then commented

"We're in for one heckuva fight! We need to get a strategy started!"

She then mumbled to herself "I wonder if there are any previous accounts of dragons and giants working together...?"

[User]
E . .ʟ . .ʟ . .ᴇ . .ɴ . .ᴀ . .ʀ . .A  A. . ɴ. . ɴ ' . ʟ. . ᴇ. . ᴀ. . H ...
______________________________________________________________________________________
The Lady Mavros was swept away. Long, hair-like wisps of visible air trailed far behind her as the wind carried the inebriated noble through her city streets and into her home. Ellenara's elemental form tossled the young elf's hair as she offered swift passage. Soon, the dining room doors swung open with a brief, forceful gust. The guests were treated to the sight of one of their hosts in the cradling arms of a strangely ethereal being of mist, only for Ada to be placed gently to her feet beside an empty seat. The swirling body beside her condensed and colored until Elle emerged, propping Ada up beneath the girl's shoulder. "Well, I'd say she enjoyed herself," said Elle, helping Ada to sit, "She doesn't get out much, does she?

After seating Ada at the table, Elle made her way around and joined with the others. "Oh, food. I knew the night was missing something!" she proclaimed, gathering up pieces of the meal and assembling them before her onto the table, without a plate. Seemingly ignorant of manners, she started to pull the food to her with her hands and eating from her fingers, with teeth gnashing like an animal. While not particularly violent with the meal, she didn't mind or notice the occasional slurp or slop as she ate.

"So," she said, the words slightly garbled by the half-chewed chicken tucked into her cheek, "As long as we're sharing, I should probably tell what we found out in the city." After declaring this, she finished the bite she had already taken, only to take on another and continue.

"Our dragon lurks on a mountain to the south of Vael Turog, somewhere that I can probably find. The dragon is indeed quite ancient by the sound of it, or at least that's the account of the last man to see the giants that withheld it and survive. He said they guarded it, and that they were led by a much greater giant. Hraesvelgr was the giant's name."

She looked to the others for a moment of pause, before turning in her seat to open the pouch at her hip. Before reaching in, she cleaned off the residual food from her fingers by drawing them into her mouth briefly. With her hands still glistening, she plunged most of her arm into the small pouch and retrieved the pristine crystal globe. "I know where to look, so I might be able to find more with this," she declared, holding the artefact in the air for the party to see, "Perhaps someone could do me the kindness of looking into this figure for me as I seek them out?"

[Assistant]
"I suppose I can. Hrasvelger was his name you said? I'll go look into it here in a moment." James takes a gulp of the ale savorying the dark amber brew. "Anything else I should look for?"

He noted that it seemed that these two had had plenty to drink as well. He also noticed that Vincent and Titans Bane had yet to walk in. "It seems we are still missing two of our party. Has anyone seen them recently?


[System]
Scientific Name: Spatiobacillea Loquebatur Colloniam

Threat Level: 0 (higher if given guns)

Height: 2 µm

Length: 2 µm

Weight: 5.8 x 10^−10 g

Description:
A species of microorganisms that display higher-level sentience in colonies. Much like other hive-mind species these creatures form a collective mind through a process of shared experience, with each individual member functioning as a neuron in a larger brain through constant chemical interaction between adjacent cells. While even small colonies can develop a thought process large colonies can become astoundingly intelligent, with the largest colonies possessing computing power comparable to supercomputers. Much like in Slime Molds these cells can combine into a single semi-permanent 'organism' that can disassemble at will, the difference being that the complexity and intelligence of the Loquebatur is far greater. When combined cells set aside their usual function to form makeshift locomotion, allowing the colony as a whole to propagate, and can even be used to break down larger multi-celled organisms. Although these makeshift organs are generally less efficient than the more specialised multi-cellular organisms the ability to break down and recreate itself gives these creatures an immense advantage, turning them into the most prominent species on their homeworld.

Initial communication between the Loquebatur (Loqi for short) and humans was difficult due to the immense difference between the two species. Originally they were classified as a foreign contaminant, then as a nonsentient species of mobile fungus, and then as a planetary environmental hazard. Because large multi-cellular life is completely alien to the Loqi, and attempting to communicate with a human's cells doesn't work, it took quite a while for the two species to even recognize one another as sentient. However, the Loqi appear to wish peace with humanity, and are highly interested in humanity's technology. Despite the species' vast intelligence as a collective it failed to go through the technological advancements humanity did. This is believed to be because of a thought process based on intercellular interaction, rather than interaction on a larger scale.
Species: Loqi Colony

Age: impossible to determine, but it has been 6 years since he separated from the main Loqi colony.

Gender: 31

Height: 2m

Weight: 120 kg

Personality:
Bob is fascinated by humans, and attempts to learn as much as he can about them. His alien mind often has trouble comprehending concepts that make complete sense for a human, although his extended exposure has made him far more human than the greater Loqi hive mind. He dreams of absorbing as much of human culture and the multi-cellular experience as possible before returning to the hive mind with this information, once more melting away into the larger Loqi awareness. He acts in a cheery and optimistic manner under all circumstances, which can be both charming and disconcerting. Due to his lack of individuality he feels no real sense of self-preservation, beyond his recognition of the importance of the information he carries. This also applies to others, as to Loqi the value of an individual's life is his value to society as a whole, or potentially whatever 'faction' they're a part of. Concepts such as selfishness are completely alien to him, and he simply cannot understand them.

History:
Created by the Loqi hive mind as an ambassador to the human species, Bob was named for the scientists who witnessed the event. He spent the first five years of his life interacting with scientists, who designed machines that transformed the chemical communication of the Loqi cells into vocal communication. As Bob is a smaller colony his intelligence is more similar to that of a human, which was necessary in order to even begin comprehending humans. While not the first 'ambassador' and certainly not the last Bob was the most successful, as the Loqi had managed to trade with the humans for a technologically advanced suit which would allow Bob to interact with other humans as if he himself were also a human. For the entirety of his existence as a separate colony Bob has been working on integrating himself into human society and understanding humans better. Now he functions as an alien hunter in an attempt to understand human individuality, self-preservation, and to expose themselves to a larger variety of alien species.

Weapons/Supplies:
Bob himself is nestled into a suit of 'power armour' which surrounds the colony itself. This power armour contains the necessary machinery to allow the Loqi colony to communicate vocally, and sends constant sensory data to the Loqi colony. This allows Bob to interact with the world in a fashion similar to how humans do it, which he finds profoundly strange. This suit is stronger than a human body, as well as being significantly more durable, although it is not faster. And Bob is far from agile, having trouble even conceptualising 3d movement on a macro scale. The suit is equipped with extendable blades on it's forearms and scanning equipment, granting it sensory abilities beyond those of a normal human. In the hands of a more capable 'pilot' it would be a far more dangerous weapon, but even as Bob's 'body' it is quite dangerous.

Misc: decided to make an astoundingly weird character.

[User]
Aboard a ship flying through space. It was a familiar environment for the woman. She'd made plenty of trips in the galaxy and this should be like home by now. But it wasn't and it didn't feel like it. This was the conflicting signals between her mind and body.

Mentally she knew that this was all normal and that they were headed to a station like it was any other day. Nothing odd was about this process. Her body on the other hand was taking issue with the artificial environment. It craved real ground beneath her feet, the gravitational pull of a planet, and the breathing of other vegetation. Being in a room with nothing but CO2 breathers was messing with her own respiration. Perhaps it was all in her head but she could swear that her body was working overtime to compensate for those around her. Which was odd because as far as she could understand planets usually produced less oxygen when in presence of CO2 was higher.

Confusing physiology aside the trip was not that eventful. It was still interesting though, there were many different species that she'd never seen before. Probably one of the more curious to her was the fish woman. Not that she was surprised that one existed, but more that one would be on a ship walking around with mechanical limbs.

There was also the annoyingly loud human woman that was leaving her comm open for all to hear. Though to be honest it didn't compare to the numbing conversations with the scientists that would talk to her about things that were way over her head. That and spending two years alone Harriet was almost glad to be hearing another human talk about something as normal as a pet, she presumed it was a pet. To be fair she hadn'd been paying 100% attention to the conversation.

Oh yeah and there was a giant spider on board that had someone wrapped up. No one else seemed to be worried about that and when they were told to get off the man was taken down and strode off like it was just another day so she figured it wasn't big deal. The universe was weird and she was a perfect example. Falling in line she proceeded with the others following Quinn.

[Assistant]
Dare

The young woman had spent the majority of the trip fiddling with her equipment-- examining a magazine, sharpening her knife on her armor, calibrating the sensitivity of the radiation detector in her helmet. Perhaps it would be worth the time to try and install an e-reader in the computer... Izumi mused quietly. It might not work, but at least trying to figure everything out would keep me occupied. She'd stayed in full armor for the trip, partly for convenience, and partly because the reflective, gold visor kept people guessing about who and what she was. The last thing she wanted right now was some hotshot young hunter trying to get into her pants before even arriving at their destination.

Once they arrived, she did as ordered, hefting the two large duffel bags she'd brought. One had her personal effects-- clothing and the like-- while the other had several cases containing her weapons and ammunition. She kept her pistol holstered at her waist, but all of her heavier weaponry were nice and snug in their custom cases. Looking around now she could see the variety of races represented in their small group. However she would keep to herself unless talked to... and only respectfully to anyone of, say, Quinn's standing.

[User]
Phoebe Quinn

As soon as everyone got out of the ship, they walked towards the southern entrance at the end of the hangar bay. A few rooms down the hallway and they turn to an elevator shaft. Quinn presses the call button from the holographic projector, and after a few minutes of waiting, the elevator finally shows up. As everyone piles into the elevator, the Commander presses button 33 as they fly up to level 33 from level 12. Within the large elevator, it became very clear to her how many hunters she had with her. And what an assortment of faces as well! While she had a few human faces, she also sees a few alien types around her as well. From a large red Ogaris yokai (Oni) who still seemed a little out of it, a Syreni chondrichthyes (Aquarian) who took up almost half of the entire elevator, and surprisingly a being that was made up of various little microscopic creatures. This new team is going to be pretty interesting, or at least she thinks.

It would be a rather longish elevator trip, but eventually they reach the designated floor after a minute or two waiting. Quinn would have the rest of the recruits follow her down the hall to his right, curving towards their left...

Room 661... Room 663... 665...

Finally they reached GAHL's Office Room. Room 671. Quinn then activates a holopad from the entrance and enters the passcode to open the door in an effortless manner. The pad blinks twice in a flash of green as the doors slide open automatically to reveal the entrance.

The waiting room of the office was relatively large compared to the room they were in, yet it was also rather cozy. Instead of the traditional white boring walls of the rest of the offices, it simulated dark glossy wooden walls of an mid-2010s Earthling Log-cabin, with the floors also covered in the same material. Of course, this wasn't actually wood, as it would cost too much money to replace the white floors, but the holopads made a very convincing image of actual wood, both in looks and even the design and feel. Even the counters and tables were mostly made of wood, but also had nice stone-carvings within them. The seats were mostly sitting and lounging sofas, with a rugs looking rather generic but still had its purpose. A stone fire place is even seen to the far right, with a Holo-TV above the warm fire, along with several trophy-skulls of some creatures. Dangling lights illuminated the room and bookcases flanked each other farther inwards.

The room did indeed stimulate the feeling of a modern hunting lodge, which seemed quite fitting. As they continued walking in however, the President of GAHL, Richard Malkovich, finally stepped forward from behind the front desk with a friendly smile.

"Ah! Welcome fellow hunters. I'm Richard Malkovich, president of the Galactic Adventure Hunting Lodge. I'll be ready to debrief you on your first mission in a bit... just setting things up in the Meeting Room. For the meantime, please, just relax and get comfy. I'll let one of my security droids let you in once I'm ready. Give me, eh... 3 minutes please."

With that, Malkovich quickly heads back to the meeting room to make the last preparations before everyone can enter. Quinn simply drops her bag on top of a hangar near the bar, filled with a whole collection of different alcohol and wines from various planets, as they wait for Malkovich to finally call them in.

[Assistant]
Bob of the Loqi -

The main hunter, the lead entity, Phoebe Quinn, lead the 'group' to where they would be 'debriefed'. It was a fascinating experience. So was this how other races formed 'groups'? It seemed that at this size they weren't capable of properly linking up, and instead moved around in these makeshift unions. A single lead entity who gave orders, which would then be processed on a more detailed level by each individual entity. He would call it sad, but perhaps there was some merit in this system. After all, they were capable of passing on these orders at a distance, and had even invented this technology to vastly increase that distance. For entities on different sides of the planet to form a single group, even if it was such a rudimentary group, was an astounding concept.

Despite all their disadvantages and inabilities these strange beings, who existed like small planets isolated from one another, had managed to test and understand the laws of the universe itself. Bending such great and powerful forces to their will and using their immense physical strength and communication abilities, it seemed they had managed to conquer even the stars, while the Loqi had remained on their own world. In that way it was the Loqi who formed an isolated entity, when all these other races had met up. And in their own strange way they had formed their own 'group', a group composed of billions of smaller groups interlocking with one another. A system that spanned the stars, far more complex than the individual entity and yet defined by the complexity of each individual entity. In his time here he had already managed to learn so much about these strange creatures, this strange way of living, that he could scarcely believe. But now he would learn another fascinating thing: how they treated those who were excluded from the group. Entities incapable of communication were not allowed to exist within the group, and instead were purged from the system using these 'hunters'. Elimination of competition on such a macro scale.... the colony known as Bob could not contain it's excitement.

Of course he was having some trouble keeping up with the situation. Movement through this macro space, the concept of an elevator... these things in and of itself were astounding new ideas. To propagate by manipulating the surface that supported you, that was the sort of thinking that only made sense at such a macro level. When you ignored the mundane and looked at the total, the big picture formed by hundreds of thousands of cells... and yet the others were also speaking. At the best of days it took Bob a little bit to keep up with the speech of these creatures, translating it to chemical signals he understood. And not just the medium but the execution also differed, the idea of communicating such complex ideas in such a manner.... it was all very hard to understand. But from what he could tell they were about to be given their orders from a unit higher in the hierarchy. Seemingly all of the various entities within this room were all variations on the same basic template, and yet many came from different 'species'. Altered versions of that template, designed with far different capabilities in mind. Adapted limbs for different situations. And yet it seemed as if these different 'species' also had their own hierarchy, which was somehow connected to the other hierarchies, and yet some were more important than others. And even two entities of the same 'species' are not the same, as they have attached different objects to themselves. Specialised 'technology' that allows them to act in different physics-defying ways, to bend the laws of nature to their will.

Waiting for the president to return to the room Bob vibrated lightly, making a sound slightly too high for human hearing. Waiting was more of a breather for him, as he did his best to process everything that had happened, the concepts he was being asked to swallow. Even in theory the Loqi had never considered such fascinating things!


[System]
Alias: Crimson Reaper, The Blood Crusader
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Occupation: Assassin, Thief, Bounty Hunter.
Demeanor: Ruby is somewhat of a sadist while on the job, but she manages to direct her sadism to her enemies, and not the people she cares about.

Basic Appearance

Hair: Crimson (dyed), Black (natural)
Facial Hair: None. Because she's a lady.
Eyes: Green.
Build: Slim, sleek.
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 110 lb.
Special Features: Tattoo of a skull on her left shoulder.

Combat Credentials

Combat Style: Traditional boxing, Viper Kachin Bando, dagger and sword fighting, bojutsu, Krav Maga, and Judo. Ruby was a prodigy of many martial arts at a young age. As such, she was sought after as an assassin, bounty hunter, and thief.

Abilities
Stealth-Ruby can move silently, and (almost) hide in plain sight.

Trained Reflexes- Ruby is trained to react to situations at twice the normal human level.

Burglary- Ruby, through her years as a thief, has learned how to break into buildings, from a skyscraper to a bank vault. Also, she has learned how pick locks and open most anything.

Eidetic Memory- Ruby can remember almost anything, in near perfect recall, with very little exposure.

Gear

- Twin Curved Assassin Knives: These two knives are perfectly matched, about five inches on the blade, curved inwards, made for slicing flesh. One is black, and one is silver. Their names are Kasai and Aisu.

- Telescoping Bo Staff: When collapsed, it is about 11 inches long. When extended, it is 4'11". It is made of aluminum, for strength in lightness.

- Tactical HUD: An eyepiece that Ruby stole off of a soldier, that allows her to mark targets, scan the inside of buildings, see thermal imaging, and view images at 30x zoom.

- Climbing gear: Gear meant for climbing any surface, from buildings to rocks and trees.

- Rapid Glass Cutter: A device that rapidly and silently cuts a circle 2 feet in diameter.

- Piton Gun: A loud, but effective wrist-mounted piton gun that allows Ruby to get around quickly.

- Smokebombs: A bit cliche, but these allow Ruby to back out of dangerous situations. A 4-foot diameter, 6-foot height smoke cloud explodes from the impact bombs.

Bio:
Ruby was born with the inheritance of a crippled, alcoholic, pathetic ex-MMA fighter. However, the pathetic SOB in question loved his daughter very much. He trained her to fight like a champion, and like a champion she did fight. Quickly becoming a star in the MMA scene, Ruby became the first champion under the age of 18.

Soon, however, the prize money ran out, and Ruby had to turn to more... unscrupulous methods to get cash. Making her way through the ranks of a group of assassins-for hire, Ruby became one of the leading members of the group. However, she was betrayed, stabbed in the back, so she went freelance. She now works by herself, and her father acts as her handler.

[User]
Ruby, you there? The gruff voice came over the female assassin's earpiece.

Climbing the cliffside was no easy feat, and utilizing climbing spikes on the feet, and climbing axes made it a little easier, but Ruby scaled the cliff quickly. The target was in the dojo at the top, and she had to move quickly, else he move on to another location. Pausing, she pushed the button in the earpiece. "Yes, dad. What do you want? I'm almost there."

With a smoker's cough, her father spoke. Kid, be careful. I've heard a lot about this guy, none of it good. I don't want to lose you to some jungle fighter.

Rolling her eyes, Ruby said, before moving back up, "Relax, Dad. I'll do what I'm paid to do. This man is going down, no matter how good he is." Shutting off the comm with a shake of her head, Ruby arrived at the dojo, and turned on the thermal imaging scanner in the HUD piece that she had over her eye.

Wherever this guy was, he couldn't hide from her scanner.

[Assistant] As Ruby arrived a dark shape would pass beneath the pale moon, a brief, eerie squawk trilling overhead. Were Ruby to glance up, she'd be able to see a large black vulture circling high above her. Upon looking across the dojo with her thermal scanner, the thief might be surprised to find the red glowing shape of a figure staring right back at her, squatting less than twenty yards away in plain sight. Somehow the target had known she was coming. No insects chirped, no wind blew, no wood creaked. The venue had become shrouded in a heavy, unnatural silence.

[User]
Ruby ignored the bird, sparing it but one glance, to see what kind it was. A vulture. Big deal. What interested her was the thermal signature of the man, who was staring directly at her. Swearing under her breath, she ducked down behind a paper wall, out of sight. Aside from the howling of the wind blowing through the holes in the paper walls of the dojo, the building was silent. The man probably knew she was there, so she began to move silently along the corridor of the dojo, avoiding wooden floor boards that would squeak, or cause her to trip.

Keeping a close watch on his thermal signature, she crept around the dojo's hallways, trying to get behind him.

[Assistant] The figure remained where it was. If Ruby paid close attention, she'd be able to notice smaller thermal signatures tumbling from... Oh. He was taking a shit on the floor.

[User] Wrinkling her nose, Ruby cringed in distaste. Was he... crapping in the middle of the dojo's yard? Disgusting. Still, it might allow her to catch him off guard. Pulling the piton gun out of its holster, she leveled the launcher at the savage, and taking a deep breath in, fired. The firing of a grappling device at a target reminded her of Batman, except... Batman's grappling hook wasn't as... pointy as the piton. Hopefully it would hit, so Ruby held on tight, so she would be ready to pull herself forward.

[Assistant]
No doubt Ruby had entered the decrepit halls of the dojo to avoid being seen. However, the headhunter's spotter was a creature of many talents. Vultures have not only sight that is among the best in the animal kingdom, but a sense of smell without equal. A mature one can detect a scent in concentrations as tiny as a few parts per billion in the air. Contrary to popular belief, the famous circling of vultures was not a result of them waiting for prey to die. They circle to determine the exact location of food.

Zande's vulture would drift lazily down in tightening rings above the location where the most obvious threat to its master hid, just as it had been trained to passively do. The initial squawk had alerted the headhunter, and now he knew to keep the corner of his eye focused upon where his pet hovered.

Another animal fact. Many predators, when engaged in open combat, would void their bowels to reduce body weight. Fighting bears shat themselves. Big cats too. Zande had done so for the same reason. A glimmer, a pop. A fast moving object had entered his peripheral vision. A giant arrow? A silent cannonball? Not enough time to evade. He had to block. He twisted his back in the direction of where the vulture had singled out its target, the grappling hook banging harshly against the thick blades of the axes harnessed to Zande's back.

Assuming it didn't explode or anything, the cannibal would shoot out from his crouch and sprint in the direction of the rope with blistering impetus, the long claws of his boots gouging grooves in the floor. The sound of his top speed was comparable to several kitchen knives being repeatedly dashed against a wall. He knew what it was in a fraction of a second. He had seen grappling hooks before, used to scale castle walls. In a moment he would have been able to close half the distance, aiming to get as close as possible before swooping low and whisking a wicked skinning knife from his belt to ram through the rope of the grappling hook and deep into the ground as it began to contract. He knew that if it were of metal cord, he'd have to stab it rather than slice it. And besides, this way it wouldn't hit him in the back of the head.

[User] The savage's reaction time was remarkable. Stabbing the knife through the metal cord of the piton launcher's cable, and into the ground, he caused Ruby to be pulled forward, as the piton gun began to retract. As she ripped through the rotting paper wall, she kicked off the floorboards, leaping into the air, above the savage. Letting go of the piton, and letting it retract, Ruby pulled her telescoping Bo staff from its cylindrical sheath on her lower back, and whipped it out, instantly forming a solid Bo. With the same motion, she swung downwards, an experimental strike, to test the man's defenses.

[Assistant] The wild Zande was not one to be tested. He did not mess around. As Tanya burst into view, his left hand darted over his shoulder and seized upon the handle of the monstrous axe known as Hot Steppa, nearly seven pounds of razor-ridged metal. It slipped free of its sheath as if it were greased, whizzing forth in a ghoulish arch set to cleave through the woman's right arm and into her breast, just beside the shoulder. He threw his entire momentum into the blow, leaning his weight upon the attack and chambering his right fist by his side. He cared little for what she did with her bo staff. He was still able to reposition since he had at least one foot on the ground. He would choose to lean or sway at the last moment and let her strike him across the right shoulder, possibly breaking the clavicle or dislocating the arm if she remained dedicated to her attack. No, Zande cared only that his opponent was in the air, unable to move out of the space she was occupying and in the midst of an attack that left her vulnerable. If Hot Steppa struck home, her life would surely be forfeit as her body was slung unceremoniously to the floor in a bouncing, blood soaked heap, subclavian and brachial arteries torn apart and the left lung ruptured. At the point of no return whereupon both blows might land, the headhunter would unleash a lunatic, stentorian scream.

[User] Ruby's eyes widened, and pupils dilated, as she saw the scene unfold. If she followed through with the strike, she would surely die. So, she aborted the strike, and rather than aim to strike, Ruby thrust the Bo down at the ground, and using the staff as a focal point, twisted away from the savage. Letting go of the staff, Ruby grabbed a smokebomb from the pocket attached to her belt, and in one fluid motion, threw it down at the ground, making sure to hold her breath. As it impacted, filling the dojo's yard with smoke, Ruby unsheathed her knives, and sidestepped quietly to the right, so the blind swings of the savage, if it attempted any, wouldn't hit her.

[Assistant] Zande may have been unable to see his opponent, but he made up for it in audacity. As Ruby let go of her staff, the headhunter would drop his axe and reach out to snatch the bo staff with both hands before it could fall. He'd then whirl around as the smoke enveloped them, swinging the length of metal in a wide sweep at the level of where he figured the thief's center mass would be. Sidestepping wouldn't help in this situation. It had more reach than either of his axes, yet could still deliver bone smashing force. Trying to block it with a set of five inch knives would go just about as well as one would imagine, if one were meant to stop the enraged swing of a baseball bat in the hands of a major league hitter.

[User]
Ruby watched on the thermal view as the savage grabbed her Bo, and began to swing it at her, level to where her ribs were. While the metal staff had a heat signature almost equal to the dojo's air, she could see the man's hands, grasping her staff, and she knew how long the weapon was while extended, so she could approximate where the end of the Bo was.

As the staff almost hit her, Ruby did not dodge. Rather, she used the hilts of the knives as a barrier between her hands and the metal rod, catching it, and twisting it around, attempting to disarm the savage. However, if the maneuver succeeded, she would again, drop the staff, and dash towards the savage in a serpentine manner, and perform a low cut aimed at his midsection.

If the force with which the man struck was too much, then Ruby would roll with the blow, allowing herself to get pushed back, so she didn't drop her knives, or get knocked off balance.

[Assistant] Zande didn't fight like a reasonable man. He threw everything he had into a life or death assault, completely without physical or mental restraint. The staff would impact the daggers with a desperate, reverberating pressure which might actually damage her wrists from the shock. Were she to be pushed back, Zande would hop back and hurl the metal rod at her knees. Whilst she was dealing with that he'd scoop up his fallen axe once more, wielding it in his left hand and using his right to reach around behind his head. If given the opportunity, he would pull the terrible visage of a thick, black steel tribal mask down over his face, which had been hanging on the back of his neck. What was to come after that would make the first few minutes of the fight seem like a sweet dream.


[System]
"Got creds, will travel - on your creds. Half down."

______________________________________ | ______________________________________

G E N D E R :

Male

A G E :

32

O C C U P A T I O N :

Mercenary, sniper

A P P E A R A N C E :

Dark blonde sun-streaked long wavy hair, blue eyes, light beard, 6'7"; typically wears large, loose tees with form fitting jeans and black boots - always with his leather riding-style black jacket w/ hood (weather dependent)

H O M E P L A N E T :

Pelorum, Aphrodite - some Bellerophon; Valentine; Silverhold

S K I L L S E T :

Comes from Money: Schmoozing (begrudgingly), Observation/Recon/Research, Long-range Combat, Tactical (socially and professionally)

E Q U I P M E N T :

sniper rifle, gun cleaning kit, camouflage duds, personal cortex, microtransmitter

P E R S O N A L I T Y :

Tries to remain impartial and easy-going, but can be riled up if the right buttons are pushed; has a somewhat insatiable disposition for carnal pleasures so that he will earn enough credits to spend it all on a good time rather than waste material possessions; only really serious about his work when he is on the job, but doesn't curb his humbleness on how good he is at it; only takes on jobs against the entitled or oppressive; has a live-easy, but to the fullest; likes to put on the mask that he can't resist a pretty face and is a sucker for praise to get people to trust him or think he is shallow; has a problem with absolute authority or anything that tells him how to act or behave - will act against it for the sake of it depending on how oppressive the adversary is in their 'rules; sees rules more like guidelines and may or may not follow them if he disagrees; values experience over academic achievement

B I O :

Growing up wealthy with a home on two worlds could leave most with a sense of entitlement, and that was certainly the case with the handsome young Kinneas Revas. Born into a family firmly established in the mining wealth of the border planets, overseen at a distance, Kinneas wanted for nothing. He was shepharded from Pelorum to Aphrodite on the whims of his father's fancy.

The first rift to his overly privileged lifestyle came when he discovered his mother was actually a concubine when his actual wife was scheming to upturn her husband's entire way of life. The agreement would be that The Child stay on Bellerophon with his mother, well kept and swept under a rug. The relationship with his father was neatly sliced away as well in that stroke of diplomacy but his teenage rebellion later made things stray back into choppy waters for them all.

Kinneas was not denied the life he'd learned to live though, and grew into somewhat of a known figure in the high society of Bellerophon as a pretty face. He'd grown up handsome as his father with his mother's fair features, and all the years of observing his father had him know how to play that card well. Bellerophon was meant to be a testing phase before he returned to his true place in society. His father's wife caught wind of this, however, and he was shipped to Valentine as the lesser of two evils: either he and his mother would be destitute or he'd enlist in the military to teach him some much-needed discipline - and to learn his place, of course.

Military life did nothing to change his disposition, however. He took an honorable discharge at the cost of his family name he used to pay for it with when he refused to fall in line - the final straw being his absolute refusal to join the Unificators, which he should have taken as an honor and privilege. Instead, he told him what he thought of their idea of honor and privilege and that was that.

Unable to return to Bellerophon, he took a ship to Silverhold to oversee a mining operation - the last kindness his father could allot. While there, he found more enjoyment in time at the bars with the locals and soon fell in with some mercenaries that made more credits running jobs than he would a year at the mines. That military training had come in handy, got them out of some sticky spots. They made a pretty decent name for themselves on the border planets, his free time spent reveling in the fruits of his labor in the form of the variety of vices he once enjoyed. Life was going real nice until a job turned south, and Kinneas was the only one left. Since then, he hasn't stuck with the same team for more than one job. Easier to maintain his lifestyle that way without getting all the pesky feelings that killed his vibe.
  |

| Jago Deckkard | The worst conversationist I've ever met. |
| --- | --- |

| Tim Casey | Only sane one on the ship, and isn't half bad. |

| Enid Prichard | Doc's quirky, but decent. |

| Vas Jat | The kid - he makes it easy. |

| Serena Jat | A whole basket short of a picnic but keeps things interesting. |

| Kinneas Reed | Winning smile and great head of hair. |

|
|  |
|  ______________________________________

[User]
Mi Galley es Su Galley Part 5
Lunar Veil | Galley
Summary
Kinnease finally comes out of his room, shares a drink and a game of tall card with Tim.

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| --- | --- |

"Then I claim tall." Kinneas said, his jaw setting a little as he thought more than he shared. He blink it away once with a smile returning, leaning back slightly. It was done in sequence with the hand he looked at, but other thoughts were at play. "The Skyes talked me up, huh? I'll have to remember that. Got a card to swap, two actually."

"Two for the player, dealer takes three," Tim decided. "They're good people. I mean, for bad people, depending on what lens you're looking through. Fox wouldn't keep 'em around otherwise. And he wouldn't be so concerned 'bout clearing your name if he didn't think you were good people. And Fox wouldn't keep sendin' work our way if he didn't think kindly of us. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that everyone Fox works with gets along, but he's pretty thorough 'bout vetting people out. 'Sides, it's a big boat. Plenty of elbow room for everyone."

"So you're saying to play it like cards." Kinneas said slowly, laying down four shiny dragons and the berries. "Play the hand you're dealt strategically the best you can and hope luck's on your side for the rest."

"I'll throw in a sugar scrub," Tim said, laying out a cratemaker countdown. "And I'll be honest, I wasn't sure where I was going with that or if I was making any sort of metaphor, but sometimes I get lucky."

"Lucky sans sugar scrub. Guess it can be a peace offering for the kid." Kinneas said, finishing off his decidedly last glass. If he had any more, he'd probably go make things worse when it was starting to look marginally better. "Going to need it if I'm putting off finding that rich old lady on Pelorum for now." He picked up his glass, motioning to Tim's in asking if he were done, to be washed. He glanced at the chore list in passing, one he'd pointedly ignored until now. "Gotta say, half this stuff, you all would regret me doing and the other half I've never done."

"You can mark your name down for Trash detail, owe you that fair and square. My advice, never sign up for anything with an L - Latrine, laundry, pass. Never wash dishes if drying is an option, there's more dignity in drying."

Standing and focusing on the list, Kinneas started to feel those three drinks turn his brain as he read what passed as usual ship chores. Sweeping up the cargo bay and cleaning the toilets writing in utilitarian scrawl were a big 'no thanks.' He wrote a captain 'K' next to trash. "Dishes aren't so bad - but I'm guessing laundry is mass done to save on water? That's unfortunate. I'd rather not deal with anyone else's dirty sheets. Yours included, ace, and you seem best stocked on hygiene products."

 "No offense taken," Tim chuckled, putting the deck aside. "I seen what goes on in my bunk. I do my own laundry, my shorts are my business, and anything that close to my best bits, I don't entrust my crown jewels to just anyone. Breakfast isn't a bad gig if you're an early riser. I've made Tim Toast Tuesdays a staple."

[Assistant]
Mi Galley es Su Galley Part 6
Lunar Veil | Galley
Summary
Kinneas finally comes out of his room, shares a drink and a game of tall card with Tim.

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| --- | --- |

"Toast? Éryǐ? (That's it?)" Kinneas chuckled, his brows knit as he attempted to focus to see who had signed up for what. Trash was a free pass, but he had to figure out when this list went up for next time - if there was a next time. "Still, more than I know how to do." Recalling he had a glass in his hand, he went on his way to the sink again. "That's one of those things everyone will regret if I get assigned to."

"Bread, toaster, press a button, pretty genius if you ask me," Tim said with a chuckle. "Besides, this is a Firefly. Open a can, heat, serve. Meals Ready to Eat, Protein paste, there's not much you can do to make 'em taste worse. That's why you'll see the first thing we do when we paid dockside? You go out and eat like a king."

"Ah, that I can do." Kinneas said, not exactly enthused. His previous life included a chef on his father's boat where he'd always eaten like a king and he'd heard tales of Fireflys that were inexplicably well stocked with an abundance of rare treats. Not that he was hopeful for this one. The last twenty-four hours had taught him not to bother. "But, I warned you - I burn most things I've tried, and there's been attempts at ready-made. Usually, stick to protein powder after burning that paste… it was quite possibly the worst fucking thing I smelled in my life."

"Easier to drink in the cockpit," Tim said agreeably. "We make do. That's why the apples are all gone.."

"You know, you have to be the most agreeable guy I've ever met." Kinneas laughed as he sat the washed glass alongside the cup and plate from earlier. "This ship has some interesting Qi going on, that's for damn sure."

"I'm much more contrary once you get to know me," Tim replied with a grin as he stood up to stretch his back. "Plenty of people on the boat happy to oblige if you're looking for a fight, but If you're looking for a drink, I'm usually in the cockpit. I'll see what I can dig up by way of some comforts of home and have pigtails drop 'em off."

"That actually doesn't sound half bad." Kinneas mused as he returned to the damnedable chore list only to give it the side eye before leaning back against the wall. "Don't think I'm ready to be a cougar's kept wánjù (toy) just yet… so maybe I can stick around some."


[System]
Age:
19
Gender:
Male
Appearance:

Though Lewis is capable of transfiguring his very looks, there's one form he sticks with normally. His default appearance, if you will. In this, he's a man of Vietnamese-Korean descent with pale skin and a lanky build, with very little muscle of fat on his bones. Standing at only 5'5", most would make the mistake of assuming Yung is younger than he really is. His hair is black with light hints of white laced inbetween strands. He keeps it long and disheveled. Partly because he can never find the time or money to style it, but mostly because he likes the 'rugged, wild youth' look, even if it makes him look somewhat of a hobo. His almond eyes are a rich, dark brown, dark enough to look black. Lewis holds a devil-may-care attitude towards his wardrobe. Not that it matters. Stylish clothes are a luxury he can't afford (literally). His clothing is composed of plain shirts, jeans, and jackets. Usually hand-me-downs and cheap buys from the local thrift store. The fanciest thing he owns is a silver, dove-shaped pendant that he never takes off, even when he changes his appearance.
Skills/Talents:
>Lying
>Pickpocketing
>Charming
>Acting
>Quick thinker
Brief Backstory:
Life wasn't just hard for Lewis. It was broken down apartment, share your clothes with your sister, no money for a meal difficult. But that's what happens if you're born in the Outer Ring. You suffer, you struggle, you survive. No questions asked, no complaints made. That's how things were. And the thing is, Lewis wasn't that mad about it. If he had to work, he worked. If he had to steal, he stole. Morals were only there to make him feel guilty for a second before moving on. His dad was some stranger who didn't even know he had a son, but y'know what? He didn't need one. He had his mom. He had his older sister. And that was enough.

But of course, that had to change.

Like everything, it started small. Lewis' sister, Sara, would be asleep in her room. The next morning they'd find her in the closet, confused but okay. The initial answer was simple: sleep walking.
Then it grew. It always did. She'd be sitting in the kitchen. One blink. Now she was sitting in her room. They would find her in the fridge, or hanging from the ceiling fan, or even on the roof. Sleepwalkers couldn't do that. Metahumans, teleporting metahumans, could. Lewis was fascinated. Their mother was in awe. The neighbors were terrified. A girl with that power could mean nothing but trouble, they whispered. Soon those whispers became rumors. She was dangerous. She was vicious. She was a monster that had to be stopped.

And so she was.

They came silently, like owls on the hunt. They swooped down in the middle of the night, slipping into the tiny apartment, leaving behind a broken corpse of a girl. She had been twelve, then. Lewis, ten. It wasn't until later that he learned to know and hate their name: The Pure.

The incident left his mother ill and silent, never leaving the house or speaking to anyone. Bills piled up. Food was scarce. Lewis needed a way to keep the remnants of his family behind.

The answer came when he woke up one morning with green eyes. No contacts. No surgery. Just a look in the mirror and there they were. Not dark, void black, but green. Brilliant, emerald green. Turns out Sara wasn't alone with her abilities. A bit of experimentation, a pinch of practice, and in a matter of time Lewis learned to control his newfound power. This time, however, he kept it a secret. There was no need for a repetition of the incident. He found stealing easier. Difficult cons now childsplay. Money, food, medicine for his mother. All of that came as easily as a drop of a hat.

Things haven't changed from then and now. Lewis still takes care of his ill mother, buying her what she needs with less than legal schemes. He's gotten involved with more than a few gangs and made quite a bit of unsavory deals, but hey. That's just how things are in Rivière.

Power Information
Power Class: Biological Super-System
Power:
Shapeshifting
Lewis is able to alter his cells, allowing him to completely change his appearance. Although he is able to change specific factors of his body (i.e. eye color, hair color, skin color etc), he specializes in full body mimicry. No matter the age or gender, he is able to copy others with simply a look.

Voice Mimicry
Along with appearance, Lewis can parrot the voice of whoever he wishes, granted he's heard the voice before. This aids in his disguises or tricking others through phone calls. Plus, it's really funny seeing people flip when a little girl speaks in a deep voice.
Limits:
Lewis is able to only alter living cells. Note the word 'living'. He can't will an open wound closed, or undo a bruise. Additionally, Lewis' transformations are far from perfect, and he can only copy from what he sees. If he sees only the face, then he can only do guesswork when trying to mimic the body or any minor details. His transformation time differs with the how much change he's undergoing. Small changes like hair color can last barely three seconds, but changing his entire body can last five to ten minutes depending on the size.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Believe it or not, but having your bones and muscles stretch can hurt. A lot. While eye and hair color involve an odd sensation at worse, processes that involve his body shrinking or growing drastically can leave him with an uncomfortable ache and drain his energy. Often times, full scale changing will leave him hungry and fatigued. Multiple major transformations in a short time span can actually cause bodily harm, or worse.

Relationships

Family:
Pam Yung -- Mother -- Alive
???-- Father -- ???
Sara Yung -- Sister -- Deceased

Dynamics:
Basically your character's relationship with other characters.

 {Character Name}  |  {Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral}  |  {Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)} | {Character Thoughts via in-character quote} |
-Description of Relationship here-

Other
* He's a nicknamer. Doesn't matter who, he will give them a nickname and stick with it.
* He's currently unregistered in the NEST database and prefers to keep it that way. Makes things a hell of alot easier.
* The pendant he constantly wears formerly belonged to his sister. It serves as constant reminder of her and the reason for his power's secrecy.

[User]
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Jessica Sharon Rosefey.

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Not only did she get a "discount," but the dude gave Jess the hotdogs for free!

"Sweet!" Jessica said as she jammed the money back into her pocket with a wide grin on her face. "You know how to make a country gal feel welcome! Thanks!" She said, cheerful as ever.

With her hands free, she grabbed the chili dog and took a bite. Pretty good, too. Looks like this guy knows his hotdogs! But! She has to get down to business! Jessica looked around as she was chewing the hotdog, and there wasn't a line to be seen. Which meant she had all the time in the world to chat up her new best friend. Now, she remembered that she mentioned that she wasn't from New Riviere. She didn't know how much about a hotdog vendor would know, but she had to start somewhere.

"Yeah, this festival's great." Jessica said. "Always hear about this festival in those commercials, y'know... what were they called? Oh, yeah, Girls Gone Wild!" She started laughing. A little joke to lighten the mood. She casually leaned over to the hot dog stand, placing one hand down on it for support, and looked at the Vendor (She should catch his name). "Despite a suspicious lack of ta-tas, this place is incredible. People are dancing, the foods smells incredible... and I'm standing here eating a hotdog. No offense." She chuckled a little more.

"Should go explore it some more - but, I'm actually on a mission," Jessica said. "I'm looking for a friend... that's going to do something really, really, dumb. Have you by chance seen a brown haired chick with a scarf built like a MMA fighter?" Jessica asked. "Doubt she'd swing around here - not being a fan of squirrels, raccoons, and possums rolled up into a wiener... No offense... but it's hard as hell to miss her."

Eyes were scanning the area. Being observant was never Jess' strong suit, but hell. Jessica was hoping that they get a lead on Olivia... after the festival. She intended on staying here from dusk to dawn (Or until they kick everyone out).

"Oh," Jessica almost forgot. "Where are my manners? I'm Jessica."

[Assistant]
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Diana Lucker, & Wendy Lucker.

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Thank God that Wendy had subdued the situation a bit.

Not that there was a situation in the first place, but still. Diana was a feisty one... and when she meets another of her kind; things tend not to end well. Last thing Wendy needed was NEST. So, the way things played out were for the best. The tall girl sighed. Then scratched the back of her neck - pushing some hair out of the way - while awkwardly smiling for a second. When she realized Diana was looking at her oddly.

"... Maybe you should get some glasses." Diana muttered under her breath with a devious grin on her face. Right when she got the last word out of her mouth, Wendy had nailed her in the side with her elbow. "Hey... hey... Chill." Diana lightly grazed the "wound" that Wendy gave her. She rolled her eyes, and just chose to sit back in this interaction and let Wendy take the scene. The kid needs it, and Diana didn't feel like talkin' to no kid.

Just like Diana expected, it was a conversation between Wendy and this strange girl. Wendy had been observing her... checking her body language mostly. That's when this girl started chatting up a storm, and Wendy reluctantly looked over to Diana as if she was silently asking for help. Only for the blonde to cross her arms. Wendy would have elbowed her again, but she decided to focus on Rori. Though, she was able to glean a little bit out of her (Such as who's this "Cousin Max," that apparently into inappropriate things).

More importantly, she's a local... sort of. She says that she's new here. Which means that she won't know as much as a local of this city. Which also means it's, at best, unlikely that she'll know anything about Olivia.

Diana would have just politely said, "That's nice," and walked away, but not Wendy. She was planning on going the whole nine yards.

"Wendy," She simply stated her name. She peered over to Diana, who wasn't chatting. "And this is Diana... my big sister."

The two exchanged confused looks.

"... My older sister I mean." Wendy quickly answered. "We're from Stadium City in Ohio. Yeah I know it's pretty far away... We're here on a little mission - but that isn't important right now." Wendy realized she was talking a tad too much. She awkwardly looked at Rori, and shrugged. "It's... nice. It's not as dangerous as people think it is."

"Heh..." Diana chimed in. "It's "safe" because every small time crook is scared pissless of the Tyrants... it's the NEST bastards that's the problems. They keep trying to fix something that ain't broken in the name of saving face." Diana noted...

... And quickly got a sharp elbow from Wendy.

"But, yeah..." Wendy trailed off, thinking of something to do. Since she was running out of steam for this conversation. She saw all these food vendors, and got an idea. "... How about we get something to eat? Don't worry, it's on me."

Bold words for Wendy.

But she was aiming to gather information.


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

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Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
Quinn gripped her hand, hard, and Besca stroked her arm worriedly. She was afraid again, or rather more afraid. Her outburst when she'd woken up had been concerning, of course, but given what she'd survived, it was easy to write off as hysterics. Or it would have been, had she not had a frankly staggering amount of modium in her system.

That happened now and then, especially when the singularities were so close. Had anyone else survived, Besca was certain they'd have had a mass-poisoning to manage in the aftermath.

But Quinn hadn't been poisoned. At least, the singularity hadn't put that much modium in her. She had a growth in her eye socket, small, filed. Those sort of symptoms only popped up in two kinds of people: pilots, and those with severe, or chronic exposure.

"Just don't...don't send me back!"

Something was wrong. Oh god. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. A hundred puzzle pieces scattered themselves on the floor of her brain, and as she scrambled to fit them together into that atrocious picture, she saw Follen's eyes shift to her, and his smile thinned, ever so slightly and so briefly it would have passed before Quinn's blink.

He already knew.

This was over. It had been over before she'd walked into his office—before the surgery, even.

"Quinn," he said, and his jovial tone turned serious, but no less comforting. "That is the absolute last thing I want. That's why I did this—for you."

He sat up in his chair, upright, authoritative. "I saw how good of friends you were, how important you seemed to each other. I wanted to protect that. And I thought of other ways, internships, secretarial work, but considering how much of a…toll this tragedy has taken on the RISC, that all simply isn't viable. Legally speaking, we're obligated to return you to your parents as soon as possible." He shook his head. "I don't want that. Besca doesn't want that. Quinn, I don't think you want that, either.

"So I did the only thing I could, the only option left to us. If we're going to keep you here, we have to tie you to RISC, indelibly. We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away."

Besca frowned. She could have begged him not to say it.

"You're going to be a pilot."

[Assistant]
"You're going to be a pilot."

Quinn froze.

Cold sweat beaded on her neck, trickling around the little circles that she was suddenly very aware of.

You're pilot Dahlia, right?

You said you were a pilot too, right Safie?

Her teeth started to chatter.

If I'd have grown up here I'd never have become a pilot.

She stared at Doctor Follen, eye twitching ever so slightly. It couldn't—that didn't make any—

"No, I—No, no I can't, I—"

We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away.

"N—no, no no—" She clutched at Besca's arm again, this time with both hands, gripping it as tightly as she could with her aching body. "Pilots—they—"

An image flashed in front of her eyes: Safie's Savior, head shorn from its shoulders, looming over the crumbled corpse of Hovvi. Another image: a Savior screaming towards the elevator out of the night, growing larger in her sight as she walked-stumbled-crawled away. A slideshow of violence shuttered across her mind. There was that keening sound again.

...Oh. It was still her, wasn't it?

But more images: Besca holding open the door. The cookies she'd bought on the street. Stroking her hair, Breathe. You didn't do anything wrong. The needles at home, staring at the door, staring at the screen, lying on the bed for hours and hours and hours, days filled with white walls and gray and gray and gray. She didn't want to go back. She didn't didn't didn't.

She clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the sound. She closed her eye and concentrated on Besca's hand on her shoulder. She didn't want to leave her. She couldn't leave her. If she left her, she didn't know what she'd do, what she could do. Her teeth still chattered. She felt a little bit like she couldn't breathe. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want—Besca was there. Besca wouldn't let her go back.

"Th—"

She couldn't stop the chattering, cutting up her words and turning them almost incomprehensible. "The—there's—rea—eal—lly...no o—o—other w—way?"


[System]
Age: 25
Appearance:

Bio: Melanie was entered in by her friends into the opportunity to become princess of the country. Why? Well she lost her parents when she was younger and grew up in a coffee house with the owners who knew her parents. Melanie's friends filled out the paperwork and turned it in. Next thing she knew she was being called in for an interview. Completely unfazed by the letter and nearly 100% sure that it was a joke, she went to the place and met with a good amount of people interviewing her. Including but not limited to speaking with the king's adviser and a few bureaucrats. Before heading home. Yeah right… this isn't going to happen… at least that's what she thought until the royal carriage came to retrieve her because she was chosen.

Personality: She spent a lot of time hiding her emotionally feelings towards her parents unexpected death in a bad fire. She never knew much about her parents considering they passed away when she was 10 but she found that her parents were former high ranking bureaucrats. She loves to have fun, goof off and play around. Humor was her biggest weapon to hide her depression and now getting thrown into being a princess and 'princess duties' as she had been informed of, she now had more responsibility and while she wants to take his seriously; she finds herself goofing off much more than she had expected.

[User]
Today was a day just like any other day. Melanie Ashland woke up in the small house she lived in with her grandparents before getting ready for the day. After washing her face the copper hair colored woman stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her friends had mailed in an application to become the new princess. The king, who lost his queen a while back, never had a child; so he placed the chance to the citizens to become the next prince or princess. Despite her ignoring her friends, they entered her into the contest.

The first interview went well --- she guessed. She enjoyed talking to the people because they recognized her name and knew her parents. While it was sad to hear about her parents, she enjoyed the bureaucrats sharing stories of their parents and some even had the time to share adventures they shared with either her mother or her father. The men and women she had the pleasure of talking to where enjoyable conversationalist and she left in a good mood. The following day she had another interview; this time with the king's advisor and soon the king himself joined the interview! Melanie had never felt so nervous in her life then when the king walked in and joined them. However he was very kind and gentle with the way he spoke to her. Now she was at home, staring at her reflection in the mirror wondering what was going to happen today? More coffee and tea orders at the bistro but it was a job and she was earning money.

Sighing she dressed in a simple brown dress with a white lace around her middle and a bow tied in the back, she slipped on a simple pair of shoes, pulled her copper hair back into a pony tail with a ribbon and left the house to meet up with her grandparents.

"I'm here!" She announced as she walked into the little shop and shut the door behind her.

"Oh good morning Melly." Her grandmother called out as she popped up from behind the counter giving the young maiden a fright. Her grandmother laughed lightheartedly at her granddaughter. "You're always so jumpy."

"When you pop out of nowhere it's easy to be jumpy!"

"Hey kiddo." A voice said behind her and Melanie let out a shriek and jumped away from the noise, only to have her grandfather laugh at her as he carried in a bag. "She's right, you are jumpy."

"Excuse me I'm not jumpy you two show up out of nowhere!" Melanie attempted to defend herself only to find herself laughing along. And that's how her day began.

Half the day went by and Melanie was measuring out tea leafs making a new mixture for the store before the bell went off. "Welcome to…" She began before she made eye contact with the man who walked in. "Sir Alfred?" Melanie said in confusion as the King's advisor walked in.

"Hello Miss Melanie, I'm here to escort you to the palace." The well-dressed Victorian man with white hair said with a small bow and gestured towards the door, the king's carriage waiting outside. Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out an envelope and presented it to her grandparents who showed up after hearing Melanie's confusion. "You'll find everything you need in these documents." He said with a polite nod before holding the door open for Melanie.

"Well… if it's from the King." Her grandfather said and took the things Melanie was working on and gestured for her to go.

"Okay…" Melanie's voice was filled with confusion and went out the door, the footman let her into the carriage and as the door shut she looked out the window to see her grandparent's reaction, they looked shocked as they read through the documents and began to ask Sir Alfred questions. "Wait what's going on?" She asked in shock.

"Don't worry about it princess," The footman said as he climbed onto the back of the carriage, "Sir Alfred will meet us at the palace when he's finished explaining things."

"Oh okay." Melanie said settling back against the comfortable seat before everything finally registered. "WAIT WHAT!?" Melanie's face and dark blue eyes were pressed against the glass watching the bistro disappear into the distance and this was the start of her new life.

[Assistant]
The kingdom seemed to glow with an ethereal gold as the sun began to rise over the horizon. It gave the usually rugged terrain a sense of warmth for once. The jagged stone mountain ranges, the endless fields and meadows, even the deep lakes and rivers seemed to absorb what little warmth the sun provided at this early hour of the morning. The birds and bugs were already awake and buzzing with the fast approaching heat of summer as Dalton continued brushing his stallion down in the stables. He had been planning on going for a peaceful trot around the palace grounds before getting an early start on today's training of the troops. The kingdom was enjoying a state of peace after years of war but old wounds took time to heal. As Captain of the Royal Garrison, it was Dalton's duty to keep the troops on their guard. The moment they slackened their wits would be the time their enemies took the upper hand. However, as Dalton was finishing fastening the billet strap on his horse's saddle, one of the castle staff approached him and gave a deep bow. "Pardon the intrusion Sir Dalton, but Your Royal Majesty the King has requested your presence in the Throne Room." Closing his eyes and releasing a frustrated sigh, Dalton nodded and returned his gaze to the steed. "Very well. You may take your leave." The man bowed once more and left, leaving the knight to his thoughts. So much for that ride... He pat the horse on the nose and was answered with a whinny. "Sorry buddy, maybe next time."

The clacking of his leather boots on the marble floor was the only sound in the early morning of the castle as Dalton made his way down the corridor. He pulled his fur-lined collar up a little higher as a cold breeze blew in through the open arched windows. Even during the summer, the kingdom never seemed to lose the chill of winter in the morning. Reaching the tall stone door, Dalton reached up and knocked twice with the golden knocker and waited. Seconds later the door was opened by one of his fellow castle guard and Dalton walked briskly into the room. Giving a quick bow once he stood in front of the royal monarch, the knight stood up straight and addressed the king.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?"

King Gabriel's deep voice seemed to echo throughout the chamber. "Ah yes, Sir Dalton! I have a request for you! As you may be aware, the Royal Council and I have come to our decision regarding the Chosen Princess from among the citizens. As my most trusted knight and Captain of the Guard, I would like to assign you to be her personal guard and attend her during all her royal duties."

Dalton wasn't too thrilled with the idea of babysitting a girl who wasn't even pure nobility. A knight of his caliber and rank surely had better things to reserve his skill for. However, if she wanted to play princess and the king wished for her well-being, then it was Dalton's duty to ensure her safety. None of this showed on Dalton's features as he remained respectfully silent. The king continued. "She will be arriving within the hour. I have already sent Sir Alfred with a carriage to collect her from town and would like for you to be at the gates to greet her when she arrives. You are to give her a tour of the palace grounds and show her to her bedchambers. She will then be allowed time to relax and acclimate to her new surroundings until the Welcoming Banquet tonight."

"If that is what you wish, then let it be so." He gave one last bow before turning on his heel and leaving whence he came.

Back in his bedroom, Dalton found everything he needed already prepared. He did a quick glance over the paperwork just to make sure he didn't miss anything. If there was one thing he hated, it was not being prepared and always one step ahead. Dalton quickly changed into his formal court uniform and accompanying armor, fastening his sword at his side, and made his way out of the castle.

By the time he reached the front gates, Dalton could see the royal carriage making its way up the cobbled pathway. He stood at attention until it came to a stop in front of him. The footman hopped down from his seat, quickly releasing the hatch on the door and lowering the steps. As the footman reached out his hand to help the Chosen Princess down from the carriage, Dalton stepped forward and bowed deeply. As he stood, he glanced towards the footman and gave a brief nod, dismissing him. "Welcome to the castle, Princess. I am Sir Dalton Longfellow, Captain of the Royal Garrison and your personal guard from this day forward. If you would please follow me, I shall give you a tour of the grounds and castle and show you to your royal bedchambers."