[System]
Your character's Face Claim goes here. No anime or other drawings. If you're not into images, you can write a description. However, a simple search in Google will find you an image.
Age: Anything between 13 and 80 is somewhat appropriate.
Gender: Male or Female. This affects interactions with non-player characters.
Height: The height of your character.

Profile: This is personality, background, and other notes about your character rolled up into one section. Only include the most essential things here, as your character might die after your first post. You can add to this section over time, if you want.

Attributes
Avoidance:
Discovery:
Insight:
Appearance:
Ferocity:
Madness:
Skill:

Note: If you want to use the attribute icons you can find the code here: TitanPad

Talents
These are single-word abilities that your character has. It can be things like Driving, Shooting, Sneaking, Climbing, Dancing, First Aid, Persuading, etc., anything that your character is particularly good at. Talents cooperate with your Skill attribute. There is no limit to how many talents your character can have, but at some point it will cease to make sense.

Mysterious Brand
(optional) If you want to describe what the mysterious brand on your character's neck looks like, or provide an image, you can do so here.

Items
This will be a list of the items your character has in his or her possession. Update this whenever you gain or lose an item.

[User]
A foggy blur of darkness fuels the void. Fire burns and yet no light emits from it. Wesley can only stare at the two dark beings in his line of sight, unsure about their identities. One thing is certain, one of them is James. Was he the one beating the other with the bat, or was he the one cowering, the life spilling from him with every blood splatter after impact? Faceless, the attacker turned to Wesley, and slowly approached.

But then he burst into consciousness, breathing heavy from what was just experienced. Dreams like that have been ever so frequent ever since this whole mess started. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Wesley removed his cap and attempted to fan himself with the bill, only to stop and notice the strange dampness of it and his clothes. He grasped at his button-up, noticing tears and holes scattered around the fabric. Damn, this was one of his favorite shirts. Although that should be the least of his worries, due to the moving paintings that lined the walls. It was a mixture of confusion and worry that overtook the boy, rubbing his chin as eyed these strange animations. Something about it didn't feel right, and the nervousness that it instilled in Wesley wasn't wanted.

Intending to escape this building as soon as possible, Wesley found great relief at the sight of Karen's backpack. He'd grab the bag and give it a quick lookover; yep, everything was just as he left it, and it still smelled like Karen. Tossing it on his back, Wesley looked around for his other belongings. His bike would be rather useless in this environment, but you never know when a metal bat could come in handy. Although, that axe that leaned against the wall seemed like a sizable upgrade, sentimental value aside. Picking up the dirty weapons with both hands, a muffled whisper shook Wesley, the unknown language making him all the more wary. He'd near the door with caution, and crack it, peering through to see who or what lied inside.

[Assistant]
In his unconsciousness David floated in a void. Every now and again he'd see something flash before him like a festering wound with jagged teeth or a dodecahedron with eyes and the screams of many but none. This nightmare was fairly tame in the grand scheme of things, alcohol and experience having blunted the cut of the long sleep.

Speaking of sleep, it was time to awaken. The damp dirtiness of a random alley was something David had awoken in more times than he would like to admit but there was something more to it than a hangover, this hole place was wrong. He could feel it in the air, beyond the invading stench of fish and garbage there was something worse. This is a dangerous place.

Quickly he pulled himself together, pushing the headache towards the back of his mind. So, his notebook got a little wet between before unconsciousness and now but everything else was unaffected. Which brought him to the book. It was old, that much was for sure, and bound leather although he did not know which kind. A nagging thought gnawed at him, telling him that it was human hide that held these secrets together. However David would ignore the gnaw, instead focusing on his surroundings as he gently put the odd book away.

Taking everything around him, David concluded that he was in a rough spot. Not a lot of options in his current state, which left the bird....thing. The third eye didn't Mitch bother him as the spark of something more behind its eye, digging through all his knowledge of the occult David true to get the bird to do anything besides cackle.

[User]
It could have been hours, or days. Maybe just a few minutes. It's unnoticable how much time has passed while I was unconscious. They tried to kill me. I learned so much about their ways, but there wasn't anything on this ritual. What the... Where am I...? Wait- keys? Where did I get...? Oh! My satchel. Is my... No. It's empty. Except for these papers. Everything the library had on these occult people. Well, I learned all I could. They're pretty interesting. Oh, my tools are still in here. I'll just slip the picks back into my glove. Never know when I'll have to break in to some place. And it's not wise to open this secret compartment to many times. Someone might see, or it might just get too worn to be a secret. Anyways, let's see... Where am I?

 Cecelia takes her satchel and grabs her cloak from the fence. Puting on the dark cloak over her ragged clothes, Cecelia places the keys in the pocket and raises the hood, shivering at the rain's chill and how soaked her clothes and cloak were. Taking in her surroundings a bit more, the side of the pawn shop has a "Join the Force" ad plastered on its bricks. Not remembering any "Force" that needed to be joined before she was taken as sacrifice, it seemed strangely out of place. Noticing a cat's voice, Cecelia turned, but had to stifle a yelp when it looked at her with three eyes. Her knowledge of the occult helped her realize that three-eyed beings were supposedly enlightened. Maybe this cat meant to lead her. It didn't look particularly dangerous or threatening.

 Well, things are off to a weird start... Maybe the pawn shop owner has answers? Nah, better not to bother him. Or her. This cat is creeping me out... I'd probably better not, since it has occult roots. Yeah, I see where occult knowledge has gotten me so far... Well, I think a quick drive might help me cool off. I've driven enough to know how. I may not be the best, but I'm safe. Well, here goes. If it works I'll take it. Finders-keepers and all that.

 With that last thought, Cecelia nimbly pulled the lockpick set from the glove she usually stores it in and starts to pick the lock to the car lot, looking around for people. After the fifth click from the tumbler, the lock releases the hook bar and allows Cecelia access. Opening the gate, she goes in to try her luck and see if she could win herself a new car.

[Assistant]
A foul stench seeps through the crack of the door. It is infested with that of burnt skin, rotten intestines, and putrid saliva. The muffled whispers previously audible have been replaced by a heavy panting emanating from some dark presence. As Wesley cautiously peers through the bantam split, he beholds a nightmarish creature that he never thought imaginable or possible to exist in the physical world. It resembled a dog with ragged fur and slender limbs. Its body was clad and soaked in what could only be a sickening mixture of pus and flesh from human beings. The creature was horrid.

Wesley cannot believe what he is seeing. Whatever was depicted in the paintings in the other room coming alive was one thing, but this had no logical explanation at all. Where did this beast come from? How did it find Wesley? Nothing was for certain; nothing could overcome the contradictions at this point. The beast simply stared at Wesley. There was nothing the man could do to hide from this eldritch horror, nor was there anything he could do to communicate with it, or calm it down. And then it happened, the beast lunged at the door and impacted it with its body and massive claws.

The door was nearly pulverized by the creature's attack and Wesley was taken by surprise, being hurled through the air backwards and into a row of chairs behind him. He did not sustain any major injuries, but the realization of the nightmare horror's existence has taken a toll on his sanity. Luckily, Wesley is somewhat equipped for a fight. The nightmare hound stands in the door way, growling and observing his prey. The paintings in the room have reacted to the dark presence and are wailing a strange sound that seems to upset the otherworldly creature.

Note: Change your Madness attribute to C-.

The three-eyed bird suddenly takes flight from the top of the street light and lands on one of the dumpsters next to David. It screeches loudly and frantically, flapping its wings about and dancing with its legs. The display is a bit unsettling, but David has probably seen stranger things in his life. At the end of this tiny ritual, the bird spits a black mass of saliva in David's face. The taste and stench is foul and the contents immediately invade the man's body through mouth and nose. It is an extremely unpleasant experience and parts of your body come under extreme duress. However, the pain is over within a matter of seconds and now, the bird's crackling makes perfect sense to you. What was once screeching is now speech that you can understand: "You better look out, human! You better look out, human! Dark things stir in the corners of your eyes! Dark things stir in the corners of your eyes!" said the Bird and then took flight.

Moments later, the sound of a lone chime echoes throughout the alley and incomprehensible muttering fills the air. The steps of whatever approaches are floundering and heavy. An old woman appears around the corner of the restaurant. The movements of her body are spasmodic and irrational. Her dark robes are ragged and seemingly of ancient, Victorian styled fashion. She mumbles pestilent words of incantations and curses, while occasionally playing her chime. In one of her hands the old woman grips a ceremonial dagger. There is no other explanation other than this hag being a member of the cult, and she has come to claim David's body and soul. As her muttering and playing of the chime stops, she raises the dagger above her head and charges her prey with incredible legerity, while wailing akin to a weeping banshee.

Notes: Change your Madness attribute to C-, and add 'Understand Crow Speak' to your Talents.

As Cecelia enters the empty car lot, she is a bit startled that the three-eyed cat now sits upon the roof of a car. As the young girl hesitates, she fails to mind her treading and gets her foot caught in a bantam crack in the pavement. The fall is particularly harsh on the ankle and knee of her right leg. The occult animal simply stares at the helpless lad as she lay in agony for a minute, and then it vanishes into the dark night.

The keys in Cecelia's possession belong to one of the cars in the lot, but it might be unsafe to drive in her current condition. The street is still suspiciously empty and there is no other sign of life except the pawnshop, but there is no telling what kind of person that dwells therein. However, no other oddities seem to have found Cecelia at this time and she remains hidden from the cult and the dimensions beyond.

Note: Change your Madness attribute to B-. Your character now has a 'leg injury'. The pawnshop might have Pain Killers to sell, but you currently have no money—perhaps some kind of trade might work.

Ryan's senses jolt awake from a sudden breaking of a bottle nearby. Some manner of homeless man is rumbling through the garbage, but he appears to be harmless. As the world is slowly brought back into focus, Ryan beholds an empty street and a beating downpour. He feels a sting on his neck; the brand is pulsating pain as another soul akin to himself is nearby.

Upon moving his body and attempting to stand on his feet, Ryan appears to be unharmed, but his memory of the past few hours is hazy. His clothes are soaked and torn. A few feet away lay his brown leather bag with all of his belongings tucked inside. However, another object rests beside it. Upon closer inspection, Ryan discovers that it is a hand grenade*. There is no logical explanation to why such a destructive weapon would casually litter a city akin to common garbage. Perhaps it is what the homeless man is looking for, or maybe Ryan stole it from somewhere?

The street appears endless in both directions. To Ryan's left rests the sight of life and some manner of establishment and the homeless man, but the brand on his neck pulls to the right where he will find a man named David Cohen. Ryan does not know what the pain in his neck means, but his gut tells him that he should follow its call.


[System]
Background:Saitra is the confident and obsessive Goddess of Karma and Fortune, she believes in equality in all matters, good and evil, light and dark, consequences and reward. She has little patience for any that break or ignore these rules, though admittedly she tends to mess up on her own when it comes to the balance of things, always questioning what is truly good, and what is truly evil. Saitra's involvement in mortal affairs is unknown but the assumption is due to the situation she seeks to restore balance her own way. Due to her obsessive nature however it's advised she never get involved with humans directly in any form, thus any that know her know better than to go anywhere near her relic. Those that don't know end up a victim to her strange whims.

Power:Saitra allows her host the ability to mess with the positive and negative aspects of others, more specifically living things. The host is able to pull the positive or negative aspects of a person into themselves as energy and make a copy of the subject, this act does nothing to the subject, due to Saitra's limited power however it's impossible to make copies of anything she's not formally connected to, thus only her host is affected by this. She doesn't permit more than one copy as well as that can mess up the balance of things. She can also be extremely picky about who the power works on, she forbids it on other hosts since their Karma is hard enough to manage without extra problems.

Artifact- A single coin: A coin with a lotus on one side and a prayer wheel on the other. The coin itself alters the karma of the host, making their positive karma negative and vice versa, it has no real use to anyone else.

(Respect to Parashi)

(Respect to Daenarys)

(Respect to Ovos)
Name:Kai
Age:23
Personality: Kai is a kind but strange young man with a stone face and an almost expressionless disposition, he can be difficult to read at times due to this but he is an honest man with a sense of humor, though his habit of not showing how he feels can make him seem more serious than he actually is. Kai is generally lost in thought over one thing or another, accustomed to daydreaming through most of his days, this can cause him to miss simple things at times, though he has a very straightforward focus, almost tunnel vision causing him to put all his energy into a single action allowing him to deal with any problem with a strategic mind.
Bio: Kai grew up in a simple house as an only child, he grew up a peasant and the moment he was of age he got to work to try and help provide for his family. Though he had a mild curiosity over magic and blades both took time to learn and his parents were more focused on keeping their livelihood than learning magic and training in the sword and Kai followed in their footsteps. Earning everything in his possession he constantly worked on a farm expecting to be a farmer for the remainder of his days. Saitra however had other plans for Kai, for some reason she chose the peasant boy with a mean right hook to be her host, though Kai isn't exactly keen on the idea.
Abilities/Skill: Manipulation of Self- Aside from having being able to throw a punch Kai is able to call out the positive and negative aspects of himself manifesting them as summons to fight for him. The power of his summons depends on the amount of Karma he's drawn in or accumulated and as he fights it drains from him, he is only able to use one summon at a time and can only carry one pool of Karma in his body at one time as it manipulates his own Karma. (Can't have two positive or two negatives after all).
His artifact helps him switch it, but he loses all Karma of one side, meaning whatever summon is out vanishes. He also can't drain Karma while his summons are out.
Positive Kai- The physical side of Kai, his positive aspects comes out and fights up close and personal with a flurry of blows and strikes, the summon is powerful and quick and almost acts on its own when active, which is good for Kai who has little formal training in fighting, this does reflect in his summon but it makes up in that weakness with strength and speed, it takes hits for Kai having a strong form. The summon is an almost mirror of Kai in personality.
Negative Kai- The Negative side of Kai is the ranged side of Kai hurling concentrated energy at things from a distance, it is weak to physical attacks as such Kai has to protect the summon himself as it can't fight without magic. Unlike his positive aspect his negative aspect uses far more Karma meaning it can't stay out as long but it's ability to fling powerful magic makes up for its short time out. His negative side is quiet and bashful unlike Kai.

[User]
Kai had learned quickly and at a young age that there would be days when the world seemed against you, in such circumstances it was important to have a positive mindset and tackle such issues with determination and tenacity. Standing on his small farm, the bright sun shining high in the sky a cool breeze brushing past him, ticking the skin not covered by his overalls. A day like this was a perfect time for things to go wrong. Staring ahead his watering can in his left hand pouring excess water onto his planted melons he found out very quickly today was one of those days. A rectangular shaped structure made of old yellow brick had planted itself right in the middle of his field, towering over him and his simple home nearby. His gaze moved down to the crushed vegetables the structure had crushed with it's arrival and his mouth twitched to the side as he looked back at the building. The object that had crushed most his field and his dinner for the next few weeks was a temple, the type that had been appearing as of late, places where artifacts of the gods rested. The gods had destroyed his crops and there was little he could do to fix it.

For a while now Kai had heard whispers in his dreams, had caught the visage of a woman in the corner of his eyes as he worked his field, from the moment he woke to when he slept he felt eyes upon him. He figured it was his imagination and paid it no real mind, but staring at the large temple he supposed whoever was trying to talk to him got impatient. Thus leading Kai back to his earlier lesson, there were days when the world seemed against you but as he turned and walked away from the temple he realized that today was not a day to tackle this issue, he was going to nap and pretend it wasn't there.

Regretfully the screaming in his head kept him from going through his day, the voice in his skull had gotten louder no longer whispers but a voice, and an annoying one at that telling him to enter the temple. The whole matter was giving him a headache and though he ignored it until night fell he found it hard to sleep with the continued yelling it seemed the only solution to true slumber was to heed the voice. With little other choice Kai entered into the temple, moving down narrow passageways, grabbing a torch off the faded wall for light as he delved deeper into the musty temple until he came across a large room, with a single bridge leading to a center altar. Avoiding the temptation to look down into the darkness below he stepped onto the pillar rising out of the shadows below and approached the small altar with a single coin resting on it, the moonlight cast down onto the coin from an opening above and Kai stared at the coin for a moment.
"Take it."
The voice was clear in his skull and Kai blinked realizing what this was, an artifact of the gods, and item that would give him immense magical power. Knowing this he started to turn around only for the bridge behind him to break apart and fall into the darkness below, his eyes twitched at this knowing it was the gods doing and with a heavy sigh he turned around and reaching forward took hold of the coin.

---

"Yes I would like to buy some vegetables," Kai said holding out Saitra's coin.
The screaming in his head caused him to bring a hand to his head, he had yet to fully become Saitra's host, refusing to activate the Artifact no matter how much she asked him, she had revealed her name when he took the coin and he informed her that he was going to get the gold back that he lost. Regretfully no one recognized the coin as any real currency as it wasn't and some ran away from him, though Saitra wouldn't explain why. She spoke to him repeatedly telling him to activate the Artifact, to gain immeasurable power but he declined and he realized very quickly that this coin was almost stuck to him, and she was already bound to him but he refused her power to fully cement what he considered a parasitic relationship. His attention moved to a gathering of people moving towards another one of the temples, Kai's eyes narrowed slightly and he went to follow the crowd, if they were moving to see another host than maybe they could give him some answers.

Kai had gathered his simple outfit upon leaving his home pulling the hood up as he walked into the temple, Saitra informed him that asking questions here would be meaningless, minus the fact that he spoke in a monotone voice with a light tone, making him sound uninterested in almost everything, it would be hard to take him seriously, the god here wasn't going to answer his questions and she doubted the host would. Kai ignored the voice in his head and stood in the crowd waiting for his turn, he said nothing watching the others rely on someone else to do their own jobs, he closed his eyes tired of watching it after a bit.
When his turn came up Kai walked forward lowering his hood as he raised his head and looked into the eyes of the woman.

"...I can feel Malthael here," Saitra said from within his mind. "The power coming from that girl, she is definitely the host,
a message to her is meaningless, we should just-"
"Malthael I'm not here for any blood sacrifice, I got an annoying god in my head that won't leave me alone. My fields have been destroyed and she's bound herself to me. I'm here to ask you how to shut her up. Don't really care about this coming evil or what have you, I just want to work on my farm."
"Are you insane?! Do you understand what you've done. You've asked for something while giving nothing, there is no balance in this!"
"Would you shut up about balance," Kai said looking sideways. "Where's the balance in my broken melons, pay me back damn it."

[Assistant]
Lana giggled as the young man finished, silently raising a hand and the preist's face went pale as he quickly ushered the crowd out of the temple. As the temple quickly emptied the priest moved to stand between the stranger and Lana. " I know not who you are, but if you speak true then you are a host, and as a host you have a duty to this world even if you do not wish it. If you ignore this duty you will have no farm let alone a life to spend farming. "Lana watched the preist with an obviously amused grin, he was clearly angry at the young man for various reasons. The preist removed his hood to reveal an aged elf, he looked impossibly old and his glazed eyes scanned the young man as if looking for a weakness. " Such potential wasted on an ignorant and ungrateful youth...

Before the priest could continue Lana raised her hand and rolled her eyes, a voice as smooth as silk and tempered from a great amount of time spent dealing with fanatics leaving her lips. " Calm yourself priest, you forget yourself again and if you continue speaking I may require your life in advance as payment for your words... leave, now. " Without another word the priest left, a clearly distraught look on his face but he did not argue. Lana waited till he left before she spoke. "I apologize, people often forget themselves when their only hope for survival act like spoiled children. In any case I welcome you and your god...Saitra is it? I understand from what Malthael tells me that you are a Goddess of Karma and Fortune? I am Lana and Malthael, God of Blood and Sacrifice is the God I have been lucky enough to be paired with.... tell me, something other than your poor melons must have brought you here, what was it? " As Lana spoke she moved slowly down from where she stood so that she could face the young man while they spoke.

[User]
Onyx sat atop her horse, given to her by one of the people who tried to befriend her. The steed was as dark as the night itself, fitting for the host of the goddess of night. She would have been ecstatic, if Hekate wouldn't have been so silent tonight. The Twin Torches were lit, leading her in the direction she needed to go, yet Onyx had no idea where they were taking her. Onyx had been performing a light show for some children when the torches lit up, blindingly at her side. She knew she had to go somewhere, but Hekate wasn't talking to her

With a sigh, Onyx clicked softly at the horse, telling it to continue forward. It wasn't long before they reached a temple, much like the one Hekate presided over. Onyx could feel an almost... bloodthirsty aura. This was definitely not somewhere Hekate would normally visit.
"I'll ask you one more time, what are we doing here?" Onyx spoke to her goddess. She was uneasy, and it wasn't a feeling she normally experienced.
"There are two hosts here, like you. You must see what they're doing."
"So.. I'm spying?"
"More or less."
Onyx frowned deeply, but continued forward. She knew if she didn't listen, Hekate would scream in her head.

Onyx jumped off the horse and tied it to a tree close by the temple before creeping closer and observing the crowd gathered around. They were all dressed in hoods, and if they spoke it seemed to be in a terrified whisper. The torches were now cold and dark, the fire seeming to have never happened. She put them back in her belt at her waist, and, with an almost annoyed sigh, she disappeared.
Had it been daylight, she would have been spotted immediately as she was just a mass of swirling darkness. In the night, however, it's nearly impossible to see her. Onyx zipped passed the crowd and into the temple, sticking to shadows cast by the torches inside. Once she reached a woman, however, she froze. The woman was speaking to a hooded man, and Onyx stayed back, watching and listening carefully.

[Assistant]
Kai stared at the priest blinking a few times as the man seemed to explain his supposed duty, running a hand through his hair he sighed as the priest stared at him, he made no attempt to tense up or hide anything about himself, he just stared back at him with the same blank expression. What he said was meaningless Saitra had already gone on about some kind of duty, even showed him what he should be doing but digging in his ear Kai patiently waited for the one he addressed to speak to him. When she finally spoke he looked up at her and folded his hands behind head as she sent the priest away.
What an interesting turn of events, also do you feel that...it's like we're being watched."
"Nope," Kai said staring ahead.

Kai squeezed the bridge of his nose when the woman name Lana spoke to him mentioning herself and Malthael, he supposed hosts were like this when they fully fused, or maybe she was a special case, he had no idea and didn't really care. He was also pretty sure she just called him a spoiled child but now wasn't the time to deal with such things, at the moment this girl was the only one that could answer the questions Saitra refused to answer. It seemed this Lana and her god knew who was inside his head as well, that made this a little easier to explain then.
"I'm here for my melons," Kai said simply. "I suppose if I were to name something else it's answers...because my melons were destroyed."
"Would you let go of the melons, look my aim was slightly off."
"Oh yeah your aim was off, a few feet over and you'd owe me a new house," Kai said shaking his head. "Anyway...I just want answers. This god ended up in my head, she made me get her artifact and keeps going on about some great evil, or some beast or something. Look why is this god here and how do I make her go away."


[System]
Age: 16 (soon to be 17)
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Homoromantic Asexual
Human or Werewolf: Werewolf
Pack Member or Loner: Loner
Pack Name: N/A
Pack Position: Not currently in a pack, but would likely be toward the bottom rank-wise.
Appearance (picture or written description): A few inches below average for her age and quite skinny.
Human:

Wolf:

Strengths (at least 3): A vicious fighter, highly intelligent, and especially fast.
Weaknesses (at least 3): Small and light, prone to emotional and mental instability, and not skilled at making allies.
Personality: Named for her affinity with cold temperatures and snowy landscapes, it should come as no surprise that North distant and fearful. She prefers to be alone with only the wilderness to keep her company, and is highly uncomfortable in the presence of others. While shy and docile when with other wolves, North becomes vicious and bloodthirsty when confronted by a human or other animal. Resentful of her human form, she never leaves her wolf form when she can help it.
History: North was the only child of a single mother who was reclusive, so they lived alone in the woods and had little interaction with civilization. Her mother provided for herself and her daughter by becoming an avid hunter/gatherer, and soon knew the names and locations of every native flora and fauna. One day, however, a single creature stood above all the others in her eyes. A wolf, unmatched by any other in strength and beauty, appeared in the forest, and North's mother became infatuated with it. To her, this werewolf represented all that was powerful and good in the world. Recognizing it as a beast of legend, she trained her daughter to become a skilled fighter who was in-tune with nature so that she might one day become a wolf herself. Once her child was deemed ready, she abandoned her in the wild and allowed the rogue wolf to bite her daughter before slaying it. When North became a wolf for the first time, she killed her mother in anger for all that she had endured and became a loner.
Other: Nothing at the moment.

[User]
There was quite a lot of nodding with agreement at Vashti's addition to Aldo's retort, and he stood still with his arms crossed and the scowl still on his face. He glanced at William and saw the frown; something began to feel the tiniest kernel of pity inside of him... and then the hunter spoke coldly toward Vashti, erasing the vestige of sympathy and making Aldo's muscles tense hard as rock. He didn't like the way he swigged from the flask, he didn't like the way he glared at the (admittedly a stranger) pretty woman standing nearby, he didn't like his threatening-seeming stance. He narrowed his eyes when the man said 'Please' and replied very quietly, "Very well then."

He turned around to hide his satisfaction at Markus chewing out the hunter with very serious and vulgar language. Hearing such an inherently unlikeable presence getting this kind of talking-to was making him try very hard not to smile, but of course he did anyway, just a tiny bit.

And then he heard the Lupa's voice addressing him, at which point he spun to face her out of respect despite the fact that she couldn't see. He was slightly astonished at Valerie's politeness but could hear the worry in her voice; it was almost tangible. "Of course, Miss, coming right up," he said respectfully. He turned back around to make the tea, thankful the water was still hot, and pointedly avoiding looking at William, he gently held out the mug for her. Guessing what was on her mind, he spoke in a soft voice to her and hoped that the hunter wouldn't hear. "Markus will be fine. You've got to remember that. The howl was probably nothing, too. Enjoy your tea."

And finally he fetched another mug, one with a chip in it, and quickly got together some hot chocolate for William. Looking at the mug and not the person in front of him, he handed it over to the man without a word.

[Assistant]
Sasha – Skoll

Sasha walked into the kitchen in her tall, muscular lycaon form, administering the gathering of pack members and strangers a cool glance before opening the fridge. It didn't occur to her to discuss the other wolf, since Sasha didn't feel like she owed them an excuse for her behavior and really didn't want them doing anything typically stupid. A flicker of mirth crossed her face when the strange man who had the boring scent of human started lecturing the equally unknown wolf.

Digging out an armload of food, she backed away from the fridge, dumped it all on a tray, and headed back to the den. Sasha dropped the tray on a rather large ottoman, pointing to a host of leftover meat as well as raw venison.

I could cook that, but I didn't think you'd mind too much, she said lightly. Giving the wolf her back, Sasha moved to the large hearth that acted as the centerpiece for the den and stirred the smoldering remnants of wood to life. Strategically adding a few pieces of wood, Sasha finally felt satisfied the fire was properly attended and moved to sprawl in a loveseat, turning her attention to the wolf once more.  You can rest up and all that, or we can get the Ulfric to help you shift, she told the wolf, perceiving the issue at hand simply from several years of experience as a werewolf.

Marrec – Hati
Despite the annoyance of being forced to babysit everyone, Marrec accepted the Ulfric's demand. Might as well be corralling students again,  he thought idly. Marrec stared at the third gun now in his possession, a grin allowing a brief glimpse of teeth. His grin widened as Aldo and Vashti started snarling at William, only to burst into laughter when the hunter got all hissy back at the two werewolves. Pulling a chair out, the large werewolf settled in and stretched out his legs, only to grunt and straighten his posture. Reaching one hand behind him, Marrec adjusted the two pistols tucked into his pants.

Knowing the night was going to be a long one, Marrec subsided into a state of distraction that was tethered to the present only by his awareness of where William was. He considered the days that led up to him becoming a werewolf, when he had been working with kids outside of the classroom, as both a confidant and a counselor. Now he was a full-time enforcer and being a teacher seemed a distant impossibility, though he still subbed at times. And you'll be dying in a little while, too. Might as well not try too hard to get back to teaching if you'll croak soon.

Stirring from the dreary path his mind was trying to take, Marrec glanced around and noticed Sasha in lycoan form. His mouth parted to ask what was going on, but he decided she didn't want the attention when she stalked right back out of the kitchen.

Sam – Geri
Though she knew they were already dead, Sam checked their pulses anyway. Blood coated her fingertips as she touched the wounds to try and identify the weapon used. The scent of blood, even of her own pack, was one that touched the wolf pacing beneath the surface and threatened to override Sam with a more primitive mentality. Forcing herself to control the instincts, Sam backed away from the corpses and settled down against a tree to wait for her pack to respond.

She hadn't really cared for the two werewolves who lay dead at her feet, but Sam had fought her way to Geri and in doing so, had become well entrenched in pack politics. Part of that had been protecting some of the weaker wolves and, ultimately, protecting her pack. Liking or not liking them as individuals aside, they had been under her protection, and she had failed them. The Odessa pack had grown, but it had done so mostly in wolves who were not and perhaps never could be considered dominant. Fear rippled through the woman's chest as she considered how very weak their pack was, with such werewolves that couldn't really survive on their own. One of the Ulfric's enforcers was a part-time school teacher, after all.

Sam had reverted back to homid form by the time Markus arrived and was sitting rather dejectedly against a tree, scowling out into the night and hoping the hunter would wander back over to the killing. Despite being in homid form, she still heard his thought. Raising to her feet and smearing blood splatters from her hands onto her pants, Sam lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"No. I came upon them, though they're not long dead. We're being hunted, Marcus," Sam growled out, nails beginning to lengthen along her fingers. "We need to kill them all."

[User]
The cold and bitter air nipped at James' flesh as he trudged slowly, yet surely, atop the thick blanket of snow. His snowshoes kept him from sinking into the heavy banks and his entire human body was covered from head to toe in winter gear.

 Looking up with ice blue eyes the man came to a stop and reached up to remove the thin waterproof hood from his head,

It's a little ways further than I had anticipated…….God I hope that woman wasn't leading me on a wild goose chase.

 He thought back to the mysterious old woman he had tracked down, back in town. He had heard rumors and followed the crumb trail of information; leading him to the seemingly ancient werewolf female. He didn't know if she had helped him…..or fooled him into climbing up a barren mountain for laughs.

 He, seeking quidance and information about his wolf side, James had questioned her. But she refused to tell him of anything on her own. Said she was too old and crippled to give him the help he needed.

 The old woman instead told him of a hidden pack located in the mountain range just outside of Odessa. She told him to look for a man named "Markus". He was the Ulfric of the pack; a young strong male that she also warned James to be wary of at first.

She had said "Wouldn't help having your innards thrown across the pretty white snow."

Great…..lots of encouragement.

So now, he trudged up towards where she said the pack's main shelter would be. He remained in human form not only because he wanted to seem as peaceful as possible, but because in truth he hadn't used his wolf much……not until he had finally packed up and moved out of the city.

 Suddenly, catching his breath, James' senses picked up on the faint but detectable scent of fresh blood.
 Blinking he tensed and sniffed the air; finding hints of male…..and female….werewolves.

 Something pulled tight inside of him, and James was surprised to find himself growling under his breath.
 His……mental tick…..if you called it that……edged to the surface.

As a child he had endured the pain of watching his mother beat and bloodied beneath the hand of his drunken father.
 Because of it he was especially sensitive to instances when females were threatened or injured.

And now…..it seemed as though he smelled one's blood on the wind….

 Growling again James marched foreword through the snow at a threateningly fast pace.
 There was a ripping sound, and he winced when he felt the change come over his body.

Slowly the man fell foreword onto his hands and knees in the snow, but he continued relentlessly on towards the source of the blood scent. The clothes on his back ripped beneath the reshaping body underneath, then fell away and crumpled in the snow.

 Fur grew at a rapid pace and protected him from the cold, and finally, a grey wolf stood in the equally pale snow around him.
 Black ears twitching James' gait suddenly faltered and he blinked, glancing back to find one of his snowshoes still tied against his boot; with his paw now stuck inside.

 Shaking his head he kicked his hind leg sharply and flung the nuisance away, before turning and running foreword over the surface of the snow.

I really should have stuck to this form in the beginning.

 It went to show just how little he knew of his wolf side.....he had to find that pack.....

[Assistant]
Slowly, so slowly Markus walked over to the bodies sniffing their lifeless forms sadness blooming in his heart at the loss of his pack kin.. HIS Pack kin the ones who looked to him as their leader. He guided them it was his job to make sure they survived, and he had just failed. He took a deep breath and buried that emotion deep inside, he couldn't wallow in grief of failure, he had to keep strong and find out who had committed this atrocious act in his woods no less. He leans down biting onto the necks of one of the wolves and begins dragging, though he only gets several feet before stopping. A smell hits his nostrils and he turns his head. "Why.. Of all days are we getting so many strays wandering into our lands?" He looks to Sam and shakes some snow out of his fur. "We have a hunter back at the cabin, he's unarmed. When we get back we will restrain him, and you can question him. For now we need to deal with this stray and these bodies."

He shakes his head a bit and gives a howl to alert the stray of where they were. Whether the stray was coming in peace or in violence Markus didn't really care he just wanted this out of the way so he could take care of the important business that revolved around the whole pack. "Sam… Get fuzzy." he said with a chuckle. He had always enjoyed Sam's company ever since she had made her way to Geri. He felt like he could trust her which was rare in the pack except for his enforcers and Lupa. He knew that he couldn't let Paranoia get to bad but he couldn't get rid of it entirely that would make him to open to attacks from those who could possibly want his position.


[System]
Age: 19

Gender: Female

Appearance: Onyx has black hair and green cat eyes. The skin of her entire body is covered in short, soft cheetah-patterned fur, except her wings and face. She is missing her left ear and has a scar on her left cheek from a fight she was in a while back. Her wings are like the wings of a brown hawk, and her wingspan is twice her arm span. She usually wears a shawl so that her wings are hidden unless she is flying.

Equipment: 3 or 4 small knives (and other tools), a pair of restored Twin Pistols, and a basic med-pack.

Physical Abilities: Flight, 6th sence(hunting/tracking), Speed & Agility, Stealth.

Background: Onyx's species, the Elissics, live in the mountains and old cities found there. They could be categorized as a frightening predator and enemy to all creatures, as they have barely any ability to distinguish one race of creature from another from the air, and there's barely any escape once they swoop down on their prey. They are not a particularly smart race, they can't understand old human language and can just barely manage to put back together the few relics they find from humans. They can only make crude weaponry, and are fairly simple with the other things they make as well. Their society is broken up into many nomadic tribes across the region, each having their own unique color of wings, and they have no unified head of power, so they will often fight with each other when the different tribes meet.

Onyx herself is a bit different from the others in her tribe… she likes to be alone, rather than hunting in a group, and will keep trying towards her goal until she figures out how to get there. Instead of trying to fly over the tallest mountain and tiring herself out, possibly even getting sick, she'll look for the shortest path around. She's better with strategy and quick moves than drawn-out fights and trying to compensate for a group. Because of this, she is sort of left out of everything, and she doesn't care because she doesn't want to have to feel like she can't say what's on her mind. She is often given solo missions that really don't make much difference around the tribe, and whenever she's not on a mission will fly in random patterns around the mountains, usually ending up at a large lake (or small sea) where she likes to fish using an old net she had found nearby the first time she had gone there. Onyx, just like the rest of the Elissics, doesn't worry much about the state of the world or how it got that way. They all live completely in the moment.

[User] "Ok, flying tomorrow, and I suppose water also... I remember about the ammo, but what would you recommend for protecting my ears? I'd rather if you not touch them, that's just weird." Onyx laughed a little at her comment. "What am I saying? None of what's happened the past few days has been normal!"

[Assistant] "Anything that will block out sound will work. Some kind of earplug, or just something to go over them. It is hard to get an appreciation for how loud these things are without firing one for yourself. The reason I am as persistent as I am about it is that you can lose your hearing if you're unlucky, or worse. Some people get this constant ringing in their ear; I've experienced it before myself. And for races that don't regenerate like mine, I've heard it can even be permanent. Just see if you can find something in the storeroom along with the ammo, or I'll have to prove to you that I'm serious about just using my hands." Tarentek explained with a smile.

[User]
"Ok, I'll be right back. Go ahead and pick out a target." Onyx said before going over to the storehouse that was connected to the training area. It didn't take long to find a box of the ammo, she put it off to the side while she looked around for something to put over her ears. After a minute she found a thick square of cloth that she figured she could just tie over her head like a bandanna and press her ears closed. Testing her idea, she sang a song as she tied the cloth around her head.

By the time it was on, she was only aware of the sound of her voice because she could still hear herself before the sound left her body, but it was just that. She pulled the bandanna off as she finished the song and decided to test it again with Tarentek to see if it would truly work with the relic. She found him quickly and walked over. "I think I found something that will work to block out sound, and I have the ammo too."

[Assistant]
It had not taken long for Tarentek to locate a target to shoot. He did notice that he got a few looks as he was waiting, but no one approached him before Onyx returned. He looked over what she had gathered, then nodded to her. "Ah, I see. Tie that over your ears, I guess? It should block enough sound. You'll still hear it, but it shouldn't hurt you. The ammo looks right, so I'll show you what you need to know, then let you try it yourself.

There were no tables nearby Tarentek could use, so he took the pistol and sat down on the ground, motioning for Onyx to take a seat beside him. "First, I'll show you how to load it. This is the magazine release." He said, pointing to a small button on the grip before pressing it to remove the magazine. He then started to take rounds from the box and load them into the magazine. "Loading the magazine is easy, just push them in one at a time. However, with a loaded gun, you have to be careful. Really, it's good to be careful with any gun, at any time. Make sure not to point it at anything you don't want to shoot, and keep your finger off of the trigger until you are ready to fire. I've seen too many accidents from people not being safe.

Once Tarentek had filled the magazine, he reloaded it back into the handgun. Since it was empty, you have to pull back the slide to load a bullet into the chamber. Once that is done, and the safety is off, it will be ready to fire." He explained, pointing out the safety to her as he mentioned it.

"Now, as for how to actually shoot, I will demonstrate. Grab it with your dominant hand as high on the grip as you can, then place your other hand over it as so. When you aim at the target, make sure not to lock your elbows, then look down the sights. You want the rear sights to be in line with the front sight. When you're firing, either hold your breath very briefly when you pull the trigger, or fire between breaths. It will help keep you steady. The latter is more effective, but the former can be easier for beginners." Tarentek explained, demonstrating each part of the technique in sequence. Before firing, however, he paused a moment and reached into the pouch on his waist. He had been wearing it when Amman was attacked, and while it had no useful supplies, there was one thing he always kept with him. From the pouch, he produced two small, tightly wrapped pieces of cotton fabric which he used as earplugs.

"Okay, cover your ears." He warned before switching off the safety and taking aim with the technique he described. With a few pulls of the trigger, he put three rounds downrange, showing that the pistol did indeed work. The range to the target was not too long, so Tarentek hit accurately, with a tight spread. He was a marksman in his squad, after all, so hitting a stationary target was nothing too difficult.

"Alright, your turn. Take a few shots and get used to the recoil. You might not be too accurate at first, but you'll get used to it." He said, flipping on the safety, than handing it back to her.

[User]
Well, the cloth worked. Onyx heard three loud bangs as Tarentek fired at the target, and barely made out the next words he had said to her as he handed the relic to her. She nodded because she didn't know if he would be able to hear her either, and tried to copy what she'd seen him do.

She started aiming, but it didn't work when she tried to fire until she remembered that she hadn't turned the safety off yet. pressing the button, she aimed again and held her breath for a second as she pulled the trigger. She heard the bang, but couldn't see where the bullet went. "I missed..." She mumbled to herself before re-aiming and trying again a few times.

One finally hit the target, really close to the edge, but it still hit. Onyx turned the safety back on and turned to Tarentek with a smile. "I think you overestimated my accuracy with this thing." She spoke with a joking tone, but she did worry again for a second that he wouldn't be able to hear her.

[Assistant]
Tarentek removed one of his earplugs after Onyx finished shooting to hear her more clearly. "I think your accuracy is exactly where I'd expect it to be. You're just starting out, so you're not going to be great at first. Make sure when you're aiming that your sights are completely aligned, else your aim will be thrown off. Otherwise, you seem to be following proper form, though I can't tell on your breath control. In any case, there is only so much that explanations can do. Beyond that, only practice and experience can really help you improve. I'd keep trying as often as you're allowed. I know bullets can be hard to come by, but 9mm is a common ammo type, at least. I know I'm kind of low for my rifle. I have a magazine and a half left, and 7.62x51mm will be harder for to come by."

Replacing his earplug back into his ear, Tarentek motioned to the target. "Anyway, why don't you try again? Try to keep a count of how many rounds you have left. That pistol will hold fifteen rounds. Sixteen, if you already have one in the chamber when you reload. After you run out that magazine, if you still want to continue, we'll see if you can reload it."

[User]
"I Think I'd rather just stop after its empty this time." Onyx said as she tried to recall how many shots she had fired already. I think there are only 5 left... She turned back to the target and turned the safety off again. Focusing on lining up the sights and controlling her breathing she fired the last few shots.

Miss... Miss... Hit, near where the first one was... Another hit... I missed again... She counted five, but wanted to make sure she was right so she aimed again and fired, and nothing happened. She turned the safety on, just in case, and pulled the cloth off of her head. "What do you want to do now? If you still want to, I'll spar with you, or you can practice with your relic and I'll go do knife training."

[Assistant]
"You had a few hits, at least. I think you'll do well with more practice. Though, at the very least, your threats with that thing will have a lot more bite in the future. Just remember to pick up some ammo for it before you go out next time." Tarentek suggested. Pausing a moment, he removed his earplugs and put them away before continuing.

"It has been a while since I've had target practice, but unfortunately I don't have the ammo to spare. However, I...think I might be able to handle a good sparring match. I'm still not fully recovered, but I'm doing better than before, and I'd like the exercise. As long as it isn't too intense, I should be fine. I'll admit, I've never sparred against someone who could fly before, so that should be interesting. You ever gone hand-to-hand with someone like me before?" He asked curiously.

[User] "No I've never fought with any of your race before, not any that I can remember at least. I have fought reptiles before, but none very similar to you." Onyx pointed to a large sandy area a little ways away from the shooting area. "That's where we hold sparring matches and duels. I was thinking earlier that if we spar I would try not to fly, if you thought it would be more fair that way. Our fighting style uses flight and speed to overtake an enemy quickly, but there's a sub-style for when we can't fly that I need to practice more."

[Assistant]
"That...might be a good idea, actually. I am feeling better than before, but I definitely won't be fighting at my best. It might even things out for you not to fly." Tarentek answered as the pair started to walk towards the sparring area. "We tend to be physically stronger than a lot of the races we come across, so we use that to our advantage. I don't think I can even pretend to be as agile as you, though. Personally, I'm a marksman by trade, but all soldiers, especially scouts, receive their hand-to-hand training. We have to be trained to be able to survive in harsh conditions, and without normal equipment."

Once they reached the sparring area, Tarentek glanced around the open area. "Is there anywhere I can put my robe?" He asked, completely casually.

[User] "What?! Wh-!" Onyx was surprised at how casually Tarentek was acting, she narrowed her eyes at him and lowered her voice. "That is not a funny joke. Why would you say something like that?! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it makes me already that you don't wear anything when you sleep?" Onyx took a few steps away from him and crossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

[Assistant] Tarentek cocked his head to the side, looking at Onyx with genuine confusion. "What are you talking about? I don't under-ohhh, I think I get it. I think I remember hearing similar things from some visitors to Amman. From what I remember, mammals like you have you...reproductive parts on the outside of your bodies, so you always make sure to cover them with clothes. The same isn't true for us. I don't know if you saw before, but all of those parts are completely inside my body, so we don't really have a reason to cover them. Our scales do that for us. Visitors sometimes found it odd, but once they learned that, it usually wasn't an issue. Our clothing is entirely practical in purpose. For instance, my robe is meant to protect me from sand and wind. It's just...not that great to fight in, given how bulky and loose it is. Our combat armor is usually thick leather and layered cloth, which conforms much more closely to our bodies. I would have been wearing it in Amman, but the attack came by surprise." He explained. It was becoming difficult to keep track of how many differences there were between his people and the Elissics.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
The snapping of buttons and the crank of the throttle was audible over the thrum of the engines. It did Neil well to hear the Highlander purring as if it was brand new and straight off the hangar. He didn't necessarily like duping someone as innocent as Indra, but he had to admit conning paid off. Hell, the alternative would be worse. You could have told her you didn't love her. "Yeah yeah, and then where would you be?" He breathed, setting up the RIP jump.

"Progress calculated. Course set-" Lonney began, but Neil cut him off. "I see it."

The display was framed by 2 red lines reaching a horizon point at the center, indicating how far they needed to travel before they reached the first R.I.P. jump. Taya looked satisfied, but the moment she looked away from the monitor to view Neil, she took a double take. He hadn't been wearing those when he came in. "Neil, where were you hiding those glasses?"

Neil adjusted the sunglasses on his face. "Don't worry about it." He told her, before his voice grew overly loud. "Everyone strapped in!?"

Taya checked her waist, but Junebug had already made certain both women were buckled up and ready. One look was all Neil needed, and he punched it. "Good enough for me!" He said, and the ship lurched. The artificial gravity withing having a difficult time keeping up with the vessel's speed for a split second, before it adjusted and settled once again. On the monitor, the red lining was increasingly narrowing until they reached the horizon line, and rather than lurching, there was an intense feeling that was somewhere between nauseating, having an eardrum rupturing, and having your heart fly out of your mouth.

It only lasted for but a moment, and for those used to it like Neil and Junebug, it wasn't nearly as bad as someone who had not experienced RIP nearly as muck like Taya, or for those who were not fully expecting it at the moment like Saxon likely. Soon the monitor was all silver streaks and black lines, in a maelstrom of various light dull colors as they traversed the alternate dimension. Every now and then, something would wash over the screen like a wave at sea.

"Any idea where this might take us?" Taya asked through closed eyes, her small body shaking from the exertion of the jump. Neil unbuckled and handed her some water from the side compartment.

"Wherever it is, it's close to the outer galaxy. We're already pretty far out, which is a double edged sword. Less law but more dangerous, generally."

[Assistant]
"Extracting," Junebug stated/thought, her consciousness merging with the computer her thoughts surging down the circuits in a stream of electrons. Reality stuttered into existence around them and Junebug felt a wrenching sense of loss which passes almost instantly. The sensor boards lit up as data from the material universe flooded in. Before them hung a greenish blue world with a single large continent dominating the lower half. There were several other worlds in the system but they seemed to be either gas giants or unremarkable rocks.

"Looks like... one spaceport with a lit beacon, sporadic radio traffic, fairly sparce settlement, or fairly low tech," Taya reported looking gray and shaky. Junebug had never found that the wrenching psychic shocks got any better, but with time you learned to deal with them. The junction had obviously been tough on her and she hadn't yet fully recovered from the strain. Junebug hoped they could take some time to rest and recuperate wherever this was.

"Any local net?" Junebug asked, tuning the sensors on the spaceport beacon Taya had mentioned.

"Doesn't look like they are that organised," Taya said a little disapprovingly.

"Beacon lists the world as Tiosinte, a protectorate of The Caliphate of Tarsaros, whatever that is," she commented. Spaceport beacons were not uncommon on more out of the way worlds that lacked centralized orbital nets. They usually provided basic information about the world as well as docking procedures and fees. Few worlds had several of them unless there was a political situation that made competing spaceports necessary.

"Docking fee five hundred credits and a further hundred in departure duties, tankage and gases, blah blah blah," Junebug continued reaching the end of the the meager data stream. No information on trade, no employment listings, no data on local conditions.

"Well, they will have charts if they have a spaceport," Junebug said, "and we might as well look over the damage from the junction with gravity under us. Take us in Neil."

"You got it babe," Neil said and shaped their course for reentry.

The Highlander settled onto the cracked concrete pad, the plasma thrusters starting brief fires fueled by weeds that grew up through the fissures on the landing surface. The spaceport was an space of perhaps forty acres enclosed by a curtain wall of synthetic stone. Presumably this was meant to protect the settlement they had overflown on the way in should one of the freighters under go a reactor failure rather than to defend the spaceport, manning such a fortification would take at half a battalion. Several hangers, apparently used for storage rather than to shelter ships, leaned haphazard and rusted, roofed in a combination of corrugated iron and structural plastic sheeting. A control tower of sorts stood roughly in the center of the space, a sun faded flag blowing lazily from its peak. Well it was a tower at least, they hadn't responded to any hails Sayeeda had attempted either by radio or with laser communicator. A battered looking freighter, several times the size of the Highlander sat on the other side of the port looking battered and ugly. It had power readings but no crew were immediately evident.

Junebug, Neil and Taya walked down the ramp and onto the cooling concrete. A shabby looking man was walking from the terminal with a clip board in his hand. He was unshaven and wore a grease spotted shirt in a garish red printed with white flowers and a pair of cargo shorts that contrasted to the steel toed boots that completed the ensemble. He reached the group and paused pulling a cigarette from his mouth and extending a hand. Junebug reached and and took it, shaking it formally.

"Welcome to Tiosinte captain...?" he asked.

"Cykali," Junebug supplied, "Junebug Cykali." If the name struck the man as odd he didn't show it, eyeing both her and Taya with appreciation, his eyes sliding over Neil.

"I'm Warner, Tobin Warner, I run the spaceport for the Tars," he intorduced himself before chuckling good naturedly.

"Not that they give a fuck what happens here of course, so long as they get their port duties, speaking of which..." he extended a hand.

"Six hundred credits please," he said with a smile. Junebug couldn't help but smile, graft on such a minor scale was almost charming and she passed over six of the platinum inlaid credit chips. Warner made them vanish with a skillful flick of his wrist.

"This is our first time on Tiosinte Mr Warner," Junebug told him, "Can you fill us in on conditions here?" Warner smiled tiredly.

"Its a fucking shit show, that is how conditions are," Warner told her, waving for them to walk with him. Obidently the followed him into the base of the tower. The interior was pleasantly cool compared to the tropical heat outside. A single ceiling fan turned slowly and music of some kind of acoustic harp blared from a music projector unit.

"There are a couple of gangs here that supply danac to the cartels on Easterling, they are at each others throats," Warner explained picking up a large pitcher of iced tea and pouring four glasses without bothering to ask them if they wanted any. He made a magnanimous gesture to the table of battered wood and Junebug took a seat.

"Danac?" Junebug asked and Warner arched his eyebrow.

"Gods where are you from? Danac is a narcotic that grows here, only grows here really, though it grows like a weed, freighters from the cartel come in every couple days and pick up the raw stuff." He made a gesture with his cup towards the other freighter on the pad, accidentally splashing tea onto his shirt and squaring colorfully.

"The gangs supply the cartel, and make everyone else miserable," Warner complained.

"They don't bother the spaceport though?" Junebug queried. Warner shook his head.

"Nah, the Tars could fucking gut them in a hot second if they managed to piss them off enough to notice, though that aint easy to do, no point in risking it when they already got everything else. If you want my advice, do whatever you need to do as quickly as you can and get the fuck out of here."


[System]
Hexblade gladiator, outright worshiper of Hades. Long term goals might involve becoming a paladin for his god if he curries enough favor with the lord of the dead or a general for an army of evil. Otherwise, its best just to cut a swathe of dead men and satisfied women in his wake.
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"

6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.

Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.

Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.

Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.

Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.

(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.

Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.

Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere

Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.

He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.

He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.

Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.

A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.

She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.

They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.

Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.

At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.

Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.

1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,

A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.

As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.

Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.

Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:

Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.

Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.

Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.

His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.

This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!

Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.

Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.

In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him.

[User]
Sarin slid back, not knocked onto her back, but rather pushed by the sheer force of the kick. With a flourish, she bowed to the half-giant, a polite one, meant to convey respect for his abilities. The fire didn't blind her in the slightest, eyes accustomed to flames greater than such as his.

Sarin noted that he didn't tell her his name, but accepted his statement with a nod, and then, after thinking a bit, grinned. "So what about your other enemies? Are they not worthy of such respect?" Listening to his next statement carefully, Sarin shook her head, regret on her face. "Ahh, whilst I would be honored to duel you, under different circumstances, I must decline. I am honor-bound to stop your Master at all costs, and by association, you." She cocked her head, curiously, and asked, "Unless you'd like to change sides? Your past wouldn't matter." However, Sarin was sure he'd decline, so when he did, she shook her head and committed to fighting.

Running forward, Sarin readied her sword to parry a strike from the sword, holding it low, ready to fly in front of the half-giant's sword. If he loosed his fireball, she would dodge around the bolt of flame, and continue running, and preparing to parry. If he decided to forgo using his sword, Sarin would jump over the fireball, and attempt to knee the sorcerer in the face. With most armor, this would be impossible, but Sarin's shining plate was made of pure mithril, a light, incredibly strong metal that some cultures say came from fallen stars. Wherever it came from, however, it was impossibly light, and fantastically strong, allowing Sarin such acrobatic feats like what she was attempting.

[Assistant]
Balothiss slightly chuckled as he considered the offer but shook his head.

"Pardon my manners Sarin I am Balothiss"

He said with a slight bow and he stood still readying himself for her attack for he wanted his opponent to let her guard down so he may catch her off guard so he would make the strike and prevail.

"Other enemies are blithering soldiers and pilgrims who can't muster the will to speak in my presence you are different from them take those words as compliments!"

He said as he watched his opponent as she also stood waiting for him watching his form and prowess.


[System]
I R L
Age - 18
Place of Origin - Japan
Occupation - High School Student

A V A T A R

Character's Name - Kazuki
Pathos Affiliation - Queon
Role - Healer
Profession - Wandering Minstrel
Weapon of Choice - Book
Domains - Wind, Restoration + Protection

-

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Stoic
Good news, bad news, confusing news--Kazuki seems to have the emotional range of a teaspoon. He doesn't seem all that bothered with anything and doesn't react much. If it weren't for the lack of monotone, most people would probably assume he's a robot. One would think even his passion would get him to emote, but aside from a vague focused expression, he otherwise is the same as always.

Driven
He doesn't let anything get in the way of accomplishing his goals: everything in life is part of a problem that leads to a solution one way or another. He is relentless when it comes to accomplishing a goal, often pushing himself past what's healthy. For a majority of his life it's been seen as a virtue of sorts and he hasn't had any reason to slow down.

Observant
Despite having little care for the people he engages with, he finds it useful to pick up on a few cues to keep in mind for later if need be.

B E N C H M A R K S

Piano Man
By far and away Kazuki's most cultivated skill, to the point he has gotten several server first records on unlocking the next tier with thousands of hours put into piano playing. Of course, aside from entertainment value and unlocking a few other skills, it doesn't have much use otherwise.

Healing Touch
His second best and probably most relevant skill. Originally toting around without a weapon, Kazuki's healing can be strengthened if he makes contact with whoever needs healing; best used for greater injuries at the risk of putting himself in action.

Song of the Wind
The ability to have his music gain effects depending on the song he's playing. Different songs have different effects, ranging from a variety of buffs and healing over time. Some come at the conclusion of a song, others are persisting so long as the melody is continuously played.

With Hammer in Hand
Smithery has become a great side hobby to Kazuki, who genuinely enjoys making armor and weapons whenever he gets his hands on materials. While he has made a few commissions, it became clear that making and selling instruments quickly became his specialty and source of income--that said, he can make a majority of weapons and armor if need be.
 | Physical Description
Standing at five feet ten inches, Kazuki is a lanky young man that usually towers over his classmates. At a first glance there isn't much home to write about, his face still plenty boyish and more youthful looking than he'd like. The most notable feature he has is probably his green eyes, usually hidden under the mess of brown hair he sports. His expressions are often heavily muted or outright nonexistent, making it difficult to know if he's paying attention or not. Whenever he does look at people, it's noted that it seems more like he's looking through them, not at them.
Character Conceptualization
Kazuki Hoshizawa is a serious kid who takes his passions to their fullest at the expense of most of his social skills. After taking the emotional brunt of his parents' divorce, for all intents and purposes he has shut down. While it's hardly noticeable due to stellar grades and his talent at music, his social life is nonexistent for the most part. As a result, he has a tendency to be overly blunt and cold with little care about the effects of what he says. His personality seems to be the inverse of most healers in media and makes it clear he helps people out of expectation, not out of obligation.

As a noob who doesn't really play games, he was hesitant to even join Pariah Online. He doesn't know much of RPGs in general but has enjoyed the nonsensical side of the game; aside from the appeal of getting to play and learn several instruments, he doesn't really find adventuring appealing. He ended up choosing healing as it seemed easier to stay in the back and support his younger brother. While he doesn't discern himself from who he is outside of the game, he outright refuses to speak of personal matters, with Kazuma barely being an exception and only because Kazuki keeps slipping up and calling him by his real name.

Other Information
* Has regularly placed in several national competitions
* Big fan of strawberries
* Toolkit
* Theme
 |

[User]
Location: City Sewers -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

A somber moment between friends ended abruptly as Graves jerked away. His attention shifted fully toward the tumultuous waters beneath them. Something was moving under there. It wasn't visible to the naked eye, but he could feel it: the hairs on his arms stood on end, his vision filled with black dots, and the rhythm of his heart beat louder and louder until everything else was drowned out. Three people, harrowed but alive. One of them was dragging the other two along on a mad dash toward the surface. It boggled his mind that someone would even attempt that sort of rescue, let alone get this far. He shoved his hands into the water, grabbing the lead swimmer, and hauled them up onto the stony surface.

"Rael?!" Graves asked, bewildered, even as he helped her and then Kalie and Valena find their footing. They were all positively disgusting, yet alive. He couldn't ask for more than that.

A rush of conflicting emotions hit him like a wall of sewage. Glad to see them safe. Angry as hell that Rael had nearly killed herself saving those two. Guilt at not having tried to do the same. Alja had shaken herself out of her pained stupor and gotten to work rallying everyone, trying to make sense of their situation and find a way out of it. A good idea, but he said nothing. He couldn't get himself to focus on practicality at the moment.

After hesitating a beat, he decided to cross over to where Rael was standing, still recovering from her misadventure. "Hey," he whispered harshly, trying to contain his volume as to not interrupt the other conversation. "What the hell was that, you goddamned moron? You tryin' to die playin' hero? I thought you were-" He caught himself before continuing, swallowing the worst of his impulses. He didn't meant to berate. Didn't mean to lecture. It was hard to communicate what he did mean- maybe he didn't know what he meant at all. "I'm...glad you're okay. Stay okay."

[Assistant]
Location: City Sewers, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Why was he yelling? What was he yelling?

Rael's palms pressed against the cold stone of the sewer floor as the tall American screeched at her about her playing hero. What? Did he prefer Kalie drown in the depths of the sewer because she had been about as caught off guard as most of them had been and didn't stick the landing for once in her life? Did he want the healer, who Alja apparently knew to some inherent level? It didn't make sense. Then it did.

Nobody cares about you. He's yelling because you acted stupid again. Like with the bat.

A familiar whisper in the back of her mind. But her own anxieties, her own inner self didn't make sense with what she was hearing. It confused her and she was still coughing up a good deal of water. Admittedly, it was a pretty stupid thing but he was glad she was okay? I mean, if she drowned the guy would be up Mt. Fuji without a parachute, or as the American expression went—up shit creek without a paddle. This group of theirs relied on her and it felt good. Seele tried to impart that she was a good person in the tavern in their conversation, a hero, but all she had done is dismiss it. What was heroism in a game of survival? If she was out there alone who knows how many people who didn't like her would string a rope around a tree just for a little revenge? Sometimes Hanako didn't even know how her own mind worked.

"What's wrong? Jealous that I made sure this party didn't drown?" She smirked, deflecting her own internal thoughts as she pushed herself to her feet.

"The elevator, huh?" She repeated as she channeled her magic as a gust of wind dried out her clothes and hair before she spat out some water from her mouth onto the ground before retying her hair into a loose ponytail.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find." She commented though as she went to say another remark a distant, distorted shriek could be heard in the likely direction they would be heading. Her brows narrowed as she looked to Valena. "With our luck, we got another dire rat at..."

Valena nodded. "The élévateur."

[User]
Location: City Sewers -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

"What's wrong? Jealous that I made sure this party didn't drown?"

Rael gave a clever little retort just before walking away. She was good at deflecting. Good at hiding what was going on inside that thick skull of hers. It made Graves' blood boil. He could spill his guts to her and it could wash off her back like nothing at all. What was he supposed to get out of that? How was he supposed to interpret it? Maybe he hadn't expressed himself well. Maybe he didn't know how to turn the mayhem in his mind into words others could understand. What he'd actually said was almost cruel in its incoherence. Aggressive, contradictory, more a vomit of raw emotion than a conversation starter. But he meant it. He meant it, even if he didn't know how to say what he meant.

'Like you really know what you were even gettin' at,' he sneered. All he'd accomplished was pulling her closer with one hand while pushing her away with the other. It was like he'd forgotten how to be sincere. Like he'd woken up from a years long, narcissism-fueled haze that had stripped him of all memory of how to be a decent human being. Things were easier when he was on his own. Life was simple. Hard, perhaps, yet uncomplicated. Then he met seven idiots in a video game and everything went to hell. Graves had hoped things would be easier after that first week's...events...were behind them. They knew he cared about them, right? Maybe he hadn't said it to all of them, but he shouldn't have to. Not to her. Did his actions not make it clear enough?

"Fine," Graves drew Alja's knife from his belt and started toward the tunnel entrance, desperate for some way to blow off steam. "Let's go kill ourselves more rats."

[Assistant]
Despite the unproductive conversation, Kazuki decided he would take a little time to better organize his thoughts. He hadn't considered the impact on the environment the players would have, let alone the fact that the world would start to push back against them. It was a problem that was only going to escalate the more time went on. He almost regretted his vote, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his first instinct was to shove that thought deep down--he was too much of a coward to properly address that at the moment.

Placing down the box of supplies, he let out a long sigh. It didn't look like Kazuma had come back just yet, though he might've been worried if he had locked himself in his room again. Wait a minute, if he was receiving the notice here, what about his other homes? He couldn't speak for any of them except for the one he loaned out to Hammer, but he figured she was kind enough to take care of it until he could show up over there. Most of his wealth was over there, too, now that he thought about it. All he needed to do was pay...whatever they wanted him to pay here to secure his home here and he could pay Hammer back since he had been planning on compensating her.

Unfortunately, he would have to consider his other homes a loss. They were all furnished, but he only made one Grand Piano here and that was easily the most valuable item he made. Now that he thought about it, what was he going to do about income? He mostly performed for tips, but if the NPCs were negative about adventurers, then that money was probably going to dwindle. He did have a good amount here, but until he got back out there, he knew it wouldn't last more than a few months if he supported everyone, maybe more if he really started to pinch yen. He could definitely go back to crafting, but without Hammer's guild, he was probably going to have to start from the bottom.

Staring down at the potions with contempt, Kazuki rolled his eyes. "This is actually stressing me out," He grumbled, his hand shaking his hair as he tried to get his thoughts together. No, this was something he was going to have to speak to everyone about at some point. He set about putting everything in place, stowing the box away just in case. The extra potions would eventually come in handy if he would stop being such a coward.

Stepping out of his home, he made sure to lock the door before looking around, trying to decide where to go. He supposed he may as well try to find someone.