[System]
Physical Form:

Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.

Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.

If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.

Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.

WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.

Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.

If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.

Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.

Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.

Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.

Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.

This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.

Other: -

[User]
A dark figure sits on a throne made out of rock inside one of the abandoned tunnels underneath the Dwarven Outpost. The strange creature is clothed in black robes that cover everything but its head and hands, the head of the creature is like that of a four tentacled octopus with purple skin and pupilless milk white eyes peering at the strange insect that one of its Dwarven mind slaves is approaching with. "My Lord Xallihion, we found a couple of these strange bugs crawling through the tunnel. None of the others know what they are, but they are very easy to kill" The former Dwarven miner will stop about five feet from Xallihion, kneeling down and offering up the dead insect that has a single wound where its head is, obviously from the pickaxe that the Dwarf still has on his hip.

Xallihion will lean forward in his stone throne and after a few seconds the Dwarf will hear a voice in his mind, Get rid of the body and kill any others that approach this area, Now. As the Dwarf stands up and bows, Xallihion will lean back in his throne and watches the Dwarf leave and gather the other five Dwarven mind slaves that Xallihion has under his control. It appears someone else is interested in these Dwarves, I could feel the connection between that insect and something stronger than it and far away. With his tentacles moving faster than their normal slow movements, they are the only sign of Xallihion's growing interest in this new player that is coming into his territory, Well then, shall we see who is more suited to being in my service? With that, Xallihion gets more comfortable in his throne and summons a small orb that allows him to see the Dwarven Outpost above him, fully intending to sit back and watch the show in safety and comfort.

[Assistant]
On the approach to the town Torrens made an effort to keep a low profile. In the darkness of night, his incandescence was all too plain, and any guards looking anywhere near his direction would certainly notice the glow. With any luck, they would just think it was a normal person carrying a torch and glance over it, although that might be a bit of a stretch of expectations. Stealth was not something he was any good at. Most things to hide behind were rather flammable, so cover was very, very limited. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he started his part of the attack, the better.

"Hey, Athinar, how long should I wait before I start burning things?" he asked in hushed tones.

[User]
Athinar looked down on the village, surrounded by his fellow champions of the Master, from a ridge that wasn't that high, but it was far enough away to overlook the town as well. Viewing devices hung from his belt, and one of them was held in a massive palm, spyglass to Athinar's eye. His helmet was on the ground beside him, and he looked around at the town, noting several farmhouses and hunter's cabins in the surrounding area. It would be best if there was a distraction, or if the peasants were all crushed quickly and quietly. The main population was in the village center, and the outliers would be an acceptable loss.

However. If the peasants formed a mob, and attracted enough attention from the village, maybe the guards would leave the town. Maybe. There was also a good chance that they would fortify the town as well, and ignore the farmers. However, this would severely affect the morale of the defenders, and make it easier for the attackers to take down a shaken enemy.

Tossing the spyglass and other viewing devices to an imp, who had been brought for the sole purpose of carrying the instruments, Athinar clapped his hands together, and pulled his helm on. "We don't have that many frontline fighters, other than those Vorhaas Orcs, and they're barely two hundred strong. We'd be needing three-quarters of those to surround the village, so Torrens and Shukra," he said this with a grimace of mild distaste under his thick metal helm, "Unfortunately, you'll be left with 50 or so Orcs. Not as many as I'd like to send you out with, but still. If used correctly, we'll be able to accomplish our objectives."

Looking Torrens over, appraising him, Athinar looked back at the town. "Every moment you stay out here, the greater the chance that some peasant will notice you. I'd like you to draw attention to one of the outlying farms. If a fire starts, and a family is killed inside, or even better, if there's a survivor, it'll draw those sheep-shaggers together like a moth to their filthy lamps. Their sense of community is commendable, if foolish." Turning to Shukra, Athinar pointed out several of the other farmhouses. "Listen, I want your Orcs to ambush anyone foolish enough to go rushing through the woods, or leave the gate, to go help. There are several areas where the woods appear to be thicker, so they would be excellent ambush sites. While this is happening, my team will gain one of the gates on the east side of town, and head towards the temple. Azavarn, feel free to roam and make any deals that you feel would be appropriate to help the cause. Also, as we discussed earlier, the remaining Orcs will surround the town, catching any runaways, and preventing any help from arriving. Torrens, wait for us to get in position to execute the plan, before you burn down the house. Narza, you will tell Torrens when to start, and then come immediately back. Azavarn, to start off, I'd go to the tavern, or barracks." The grin on his mask matched his face, under the metal casing. "Should be FILLED with your sort of people." Athinar stood up, saying, "Head out. And BE CAREFUL to not draw attention before you need to."

Athinar then started to run at a speed that few long-distance couriers could match, loping pace reminding some of a vicious wolf, or other predator. If the others weren't right behind him, well, he would enjoy this all himself.

 Something stirred inside the man. It was not noticeable yet, but over the course of the battle, he would find his need for blood to increase, and his patience fray. This might affect the viciousness of his plans, but it wouldn't interfere with his judgement.

[Assistant] Torrens nodded on receiving his orders. "You can count on me." As the group began to split Torrens gave a casual salute and descended to the farms, approaching the indicated house. He had spied out the area beforehand from the ridge, and had spotted what appeared to be a ditch not too far from his target. As such, he sprinted along a path, his pace unhampered by the need of oxygen or chemical energy, and slid into the ditch, finding it a bit muddy but not full of water, which was alright. In the ditch, which should provide ample cover, he lay on his back and waited. The mud around him dried almost instantly, and after a short while the dirt began to melt, although the glow from that wasn't any brighter than his own, so he stayed put and got comfortable. Although he wanted to move out and burn stuff as soon as possible, Torrens knew he had to wait for the signal from Narza, and so wait he did.

[User]
The wind stirred some of the branches below the weeping tree. The leaves and surrounding grass started to turn brown and wither. Slowly the shadow grew and began to take shape. A image of a warrior in old styled armor became less transparent and a sword of smoke grew from his left hand. The face was a dark shadow under a ragged hood. This image of a nightmare born of mens fear grew denser. It could feel the impending evil descending on this area. Like the eye of pure hate burning the towns soul. Whether or not the inhabitants were aware was irrelevant. Death had come to them like a murder of crows to the smell of carrion.

It knew now was the time. It descended into one of the farming villages closest to the town, greeted by the brief shrills of fear. The sword pierced their souls ignoring the meat. Their hearts stopped and their lips turned blue. The flesh on their bodies turned putrid and a dark green. His image looked real except for the space between his feet and the ground...

[Assistant]
Narza listens with surprising focus as Athinar gives his orders. Typically she would be goofing off in the background, staying invisible so no one could chide her for insubordination, but after the incident just before the crew had left, Narza was considerably more wary of Athinar now. She nods carefully at Athinar as she receives her orders, watching his soul anxiously for any sign of a change. The presence he had briefly shown earlier felt instinctively more dangerous than anything else she'd felt before, save probably the Master himself. Athinar continues speaking without so much as a slight perturbation and Narza relaxes.

She keeps pace behind Athinar easily as they move toward the one of the gates, floating silently and invisibly over the grass. She leaves a few wisps of fog around her body to let the others know where she was roughly. It would be easy enough to spot up close, but impossible to make out from a distance.


[System]
NPC characters

"I am but the instrument through which the ECHO resounds."

(Image is a placeholder until an image is made for the Harp.)
Age: Unknown, has been the Harp for 4 years.

Human/Feren: Unknown (Rumored to be human.)

Nationality: Unknown

Religion: Unknown

Appearance: Unknown, is always seen wearing the traditional Harp garb. (Will be described in more permanent detail when image has been created.)

---

Role: The 'Harp' of ECHO.

Font: Unknown (Rumored to have "Seer" font which allows one to 'see' an event occurring from a distance (both in time and space))

Color: Gold

Weapon: N/A

---

Personality: The Harp is what a Harp is meant to be, a husk. They do don't show much emotion besides a gentle warmth from which one would get from a loving mother. The Harp seems to know more than they let on and can often be seen as a bit of a know-it-all. Many of ECHOs hunters have yelled at the Harp for withholding information from them. The Harps before this one have all been the same and it's rumored that they simply keep cloning the same man.

Background: Unknown

Theme Song: Little Wonders - Rob Thomas

Let it in...
Let your clarity define you
in the end...

[User]
Yeah... It's going to be one of those missions... Shae thought as she listened and watched the plethora of reactions from the others. She was actually relieved when one of them didn't know who she was. It was a first for her and it felt really good. Shae remained silent while everybody got the shock of realizing who their captain was out of their systems. When things toned down a bit, she looked over to the Harp and nodded respectfully.

"Before I hand this off to your captain, I'd like to introduce each introduce yourselves. I'd also like to mention who your Captain and your first Lieutenant are. They are Shaewyn Arca and Sylvia Sterling respectively. So, if we will... Please start us off Shae. Just simply mention how long you've been with ECHO and something interesting you wish the others to know about you." the Harp said.

Shae took in a breath and looked around to her new team, "Well most of you know who I am so I'll keep this brief. I've been with Echo since its founding and have participated in every major battle that Echo has fought. As for something interesting about me, I'm not all for being fawned over because of my reputation and it'd be greatly appreciated if you all referred to me as a person and not some sort of god."

Shae rounded the table and sat in the only seat left available, the one right next to Isa. The venerated huntress glanced over to the hyperactive feren and smiled to her before following the others as they spoke about themselves.

[Assistant]
Vern listened carefully to the entrance of the, what seemed to be, final member of the meeting. He'd kept quiet as the loud Feren from across the room began yelling at him for his lack of knowledge. She began to pull one of those faces that you can't take seriously, yet you clearly have to. With the tone of voice, it was honestly quite difficult to take the statement she put forward as a priority. Yet it still managed to find a way to make him muse. Vern thought about what she said, and she was treating what he said like he'd just committed mass genocide...

"Before I hand this off to your captain, I'd like to introduce each introduce yourselves. I'd also like to mention who your Captain and your first Lieutenant are. They are Shaewyn Arca and Sylvia Sterling respectively. So, if we will... Please start us off Shae. Just simply mention how long you've been with ECHO and something interesting you wish the others to know about you." The Harp stated. It seemed a bit odd, for a job as important as such to have such a strange Activity as such. To add to it, Vern hated talking about himself. 'What was there to love about it?' He thought to himself. 'All that happens is you find something that you think is interesting about yourself, when in reality no one gives two flying fucks...' Obviously, the Hero of the Feren, and most likely everyone else in the room, spoke up, starting the meeting with her own introduction. She kindly referred herself to not be treated as a god, which sort of let off a little slack in Vern's mind. 'Why have a group where everyone is treated like cannon-fodder, whereas a single individual is treated like someone to praise...at least someone has the common sense I wish I could share...' The room fell silent after her introduction, everyone waited for whoever was going to speak next, which Vern presumed it'd be their First Lieutenant, Sylvia Sterling. Yet, everyone waited politely, or nervously, on whether who was going to speak next. He watched Shae move to the last remaining seat on the rounded table, leaving Vern to awkwardly stand by his original wall-space. It lasted about 10 seconds, the silence, and so out of sheer awkwardness, feeling rude himself for doing so, Vern began to get his part over-and-done with swiftly.

"Uhm...Hello..." He began, stuttering only slightly. Vern knew that hesitating at speech wouldn't exactly make a great impression on himself for the rest of those in the room, especially with the Harp staring at him just as he began to speak. Such pressure, for something so small and minute. "Well...I'm Vern. Uh-Vern Phelps. I've been with Echo for about...Uhhh...Five Years, nearly Six. Though nearly four of those years I spent with the...Uhhh...Weapon Servicing Department as a Designer...So...I like designing stuff. I've been a Hunter for a short time and...uhm...done some of those Low-Key Reconnaissance Missions behind the fronts of Fallen Territory. Something...Interesting. That's a bit...difficult. Let's see...I like to craft stuff, like...Decorations, in my spare time. Wood-craft, that is...spend a lot of time doing that...and also, I guess this counts as somewhat interesting...probably not...I have no clue...Who any of you are, or the majority of the Hunters on here...Minus Harp, if...I can call him...I mean...her...It...The Harp that..." He looked away from the room he was addressing, turning into his arm and muttering to himself. "Dammit Vern, you idiot..." Once he'd been finished with his little monologue, he turned to who he presumed Sylvia was and nervously apologised. "Sorry if I like...spoke before you...I forget manners sometimes..."

[User]
Thank Archon... Sylvia thought when Shae finally showed up. That was too close. Now that the prospect of leading the team was past her and the usual role of second-in-command presented itself upon the Harp speaking, Sylvia could spend less time thinking and more time observing.

Shae spoke first, and predictably mentioned her disdain for her celebrity status. Sylvia chuckled a little; it was always interesting seeing how the famed Huntress would react to exaltation. Naturally, the silver-haired Feren much preferred it that way over someone who enjoyed being idolized, and the two veterans always had each other's backs in missions. Still, it made watching Shae interact with newer recruits that much more amusing.

Sylvia was in no hurry to take her turn, so before she could reluctantly break the silence, one of the people she didn't recognize spoke up. He was clearly nervous - a fact he drove home when he apologized to Sylvia for speaking before her.

She smirked. "Oh please," she replied. "I mean, you did, but who cares?"

"...nobody answer that," she said after a pause.

After a brief look around the room to make sure that nobody answered that, the violinist spoke again.

"Well, I suppose it's my turn now. I'm Sylvia, and if you know who Shae is there's about an...oh, I don't know...80% chance that you know who I am as well. I joined Echo three years after Shae and have also participated in every major battle Echo has fought...except for the ones that I haven't. Shae'll always have me beat in that regard." She stole a grin at the Shindan.

"Something interesting about me is that I'm not as cold as I may seem."

The Chrysocyon Feren paused, and finished her turn with a sly grin:

"...well, not quite."

[Assistant]
Jaron chuckled nervously. Arca had said that she didn't want to be treated like a god. Whoops!

"Well, I suppose I'll go next." He smiled goofily. "Sorry for the outburst earlier. My name is Jaron Edric, I'm nineteen. I actually just joined ECHO. Like, I haven't even been on the ship for 4 hours yet. I guess, something interesting about me...I suppose I'm a skilled healer. Though, that isn't very interesting. One might say that I'm sort of funny, I've got that going for me." He laughed. "Honestly, I'm just glad to be working with you all."

[User]
Isa still felt furiously giddy having Sha Arca in her party, despite how bad she should feel for idolizing the ECHO celebrity. But, Isa didn't care. Half of the reason she stayed with ECHO, though Shae might not remember it, was because of Shae. The words she'd told Isa in passing so long ago had stuck with her and strengthened her resolve to stick with it.

Isa swallowed hard and stood silently, staring down at the table. "I'm Isabelline Carter, Isa for short. I've been with ECHO for a few years now despite not being well known. My entire reason for being here is to become strong enough to protect my loved ones even if it's a struggle just to keep myself on my feet everyday and not crashing into everything. I'm nothing if not determined."

With that out of the way, the small bird feren sat back down, her feathers hitting he back of the chair with a 'floof' wooshing noise. Her heart was racing a million miles an hour and she hoped to Gala no one saw how awfully she was shaking during her little speech. She felt entirely stiff and out of place and hoped to Gala Shae didn't hate her.

[Assistant]
Xander

Xander was a man of confidence. He had hope, a future he wanted to achieve, and a life he wanted to fulfill. He carried his sword to follow his parents' path of battle, and honorable or not, he believed that hardening his heart was a key to becoming a warrior. He trained himself endlessly in hopes of becoming a strong enough warrior who would eventually meet his end outside of battle unlike his parents. Perhaps right after a well-fought battle, he would fall peacefully...

His arms and legs crossed and his eyes open slightly, the blond swordsman maintained a cold look. And as everyone introduced themselves, he thought to himself,

F-Fuck.
These guys are legit.

Despite being a man of confidence, Xander was also a man easily scared by things around him. One of them was the idea that there were always some people who had more experience than him in something.

Goddammit, first there are two war veterans busting out their (sexy) asses on their achievements, he thought, his brain processing at light speed as time slowed down around him. Then there's this mofo who just happens to pretend that he's not confident while slipping in the fact that he was in ECHO for six damn years. Then there's the freakin' bird girl who still has a massive amount of years slipped into her background at ECHO, and she STOLE the touchy-ass shit I was trying to say- without even trying a single bit!

At least there's ONE guy who seems new but dammit he has healing powers.

DAMMIT! Why is everything at such a perfect balance here? I'm totally not needed here no matter how you look at it!

Slowly opening his eyes a little more, Xander maintained his cold and serious face as he screamed internally, Isn't there anything I could say that could get these people to feel like I'm a bit of something? There's gotta be a way...

...

...

I guess I'll have to wing it.

The swordsman's gaze turned to every member in the room aside from himself. From the lean and buff guy to the small and petite bird girl, he took note of how none of them seemed burly. Great. That meant there was room for a burly-

Wait a minute, they're probably strong enough to not be burly in the first place. I hate my life.

Xander took a small breath before sighing, seemingly unaware of the fact that he had not yet shared his own nervousness to the members and only expressed a small bit of disappointment... though it was unclear as to what he felt disappointed about. Straightening himself ever-so-slightly, Xander introduced himself with a flat tone.

"I'm Xander. I have nothing interesting to share.

"That is all."

The swordsman vowed to talk in front of a mirror one day without waking his bunkmates up just to practice socialization. He got the serious part down, but something about the way he talked felt off to himself. Having finished his own introduction, Xander returned to having his eyes slightly closed, his awareness of his surroundings remaining as tense as ever.


[System]
Age: 20
Position: She Who Makes Things Go Boom (weapons expert)

{credit to pheberoni on deviantart}
Hannah also has a set of birds tattooed on her hips:

Skills: Combat Engineering (Fortifications, Mines, Sensor Surv, Camo), Animals (Riding, Vet), Athletics (circus skills), Carouse, Deception, Drive (2 and 4 wheel, hover), Explosives (she likey), Forgery, Gambler, Liaison, Remote Operations, Trade (Local), Weapon Engineering (Melee, Energy, Ballistic, Heavy, Drones)
Crimes Against The Alliance: Smuggling, Property Destruction, Contempt of Court, Vandalism, plus the ones she won't talk about, Manslaughter, First Degree Murder, Second Degree Murder, and Grand Larceny; she's only been convicted for some of these crimes
Additional Information: Heavy South Carolina Southern accent. Loves small animals and will protect them with her life. Cries at sad and/or animated movies. Has named every single one of her weapons. Ask her about the homicide charges and she won't say a word.
Weapons: Many. Ranges from ballistic knives, to rocket launchers, to bioweapons banned on most planets. Her favorite is a seemingly endless box of tiny, pill-sized grenades that she refers to as her 'fairy dust.'
Possessions: Hannah keeps her weapons in an enormous cube locker with a 10-digit pass, a biometric and retinal scanner, and requires a specific song as a password. She also has the general odds and edds, clothes,
Personality: Hannah might just be the nicest person you'll ever meet. She stands at about five feet tall, she's cute, she has a charming southern drawl, and she's just so damn cheerful all the time it's hard not to like her, because she certainly likes you. That being said, she also regularly blows craters in small towns and cackles while she does it, so either that's all just an act or there's something scary lurking under all those smiles.
History: Hannah was part of a large family on a backwater planet near the edge of the alliance; between the two tracts of land the different branches of the family owned, she got to experience both horse and cattle farming. Unfortunately, when the revolution rolled around, those two branches split right down the middle between the browncoats and the loyalists. It was a long, bloody feud that ended in the death of most of Hannah's immediate family—those records, at least, are public knowledge, but what happened to those that survived is her secret. It ended with a bang, about two weeks before the end of the Unification War and the arrival of Alliance soldiers, when half of the town was razed in a massive explosion. A week later, Hannah was discovered missing at age 10, and she's been with the Heart of Gold since she was 16. (Details will be revealed via IC.)

[User]
Hannah groaned as the Captain's barked order came over the comm, coughing up a lung as she pulled herself to her feet with the railing. Make that foot—she limped to the console and propped her hip against it, fingers flying to input the override that would allow the cargo bay to open even with the alarms blaring.

Captain Lee made it to the release, the hatch opened, and some of the haze lessened. The coughing didn't let up, but Hannah slumped against the railing in relief anyway. She let her knees buckle and she sat on the floor, legs swinging in the open air over the cargo bay and her arms folded on top of the bottom rail.

"Captain," she said hoarsely, "Honest to Betsy that wasn't me this time."

She was just about to try some weak joke to try and brighten the Captain's black mood when the stragglers from outside caught her attention. Her eyebrows rose, and she pulled herself to her feet again, painfully making her way down into the hold. She gave halfhearted waves to the newcomers, but figured that if anyone was going to let them on board, it should be the Captain—and she had crates of grenades to shove in a refrigerator. And a busted ankle to deal with. Christ.

[Assistant]
The firefly started to open, black smoke escaping from the hatch. Waving his hand in front of him, fanning the smoke, Rune heard the captain speak. The captain stated that they were alive and wandered who he was. "Name's Jeff. I'm a small time mechanic here. Saw your ship hurling down, wanted to see if you were hurt or not, see if maybe you needed some repairs." As Rune gave a random fake name, someone else came over to the crash site. A mechanic.

Oh damn it! I hope I don't get discovered so quickly. Rune thought to himself, looking over to them. Inside the ship, a hoarse voice called out to the captain. Betsy? Who is that? Looking up at the voice, he saw a young lady, couldn't be older than himself. Seeing her wave, he waved back. "Anyway, exactly what happened here? Do you have a mechanic, Captain? Because it's dangerous being in the black without one." Rune asked the Captain. "If you need some repairs done, I'd like to offer my services. In return, I'd like to travel along to one of the other planets, if you don't mind." Rune demonstrated a full set of tools, ready to be used for the job.

[User]
Hitting the comms Iean set out a word in between coughs. "I'm fine here capin. Cough. Hack. We got problems of the critical sort." Iean sprayed some stuff that tried to spark up and some areas still holding heat. Iean shook his head as he looked at the damage. Thankful to be alive he looked up and yelled at the ceiling in Chinese. "What the devil are you playing at? You'll not get this ship without a fight!" The only thing to do now was to find a place with better air.

Making his way to the cargo hold the high ceiling would allow the lower level to be free of smoke so he headed in that direction and when the ship touched down and the doors opened the air would rush to great him. Iean didn't have to wait long to breath free. "Ah that's the good stuff." He stayed close to listen in on the damage report from the captain.

[Assistant]
Captain groaned deeply as she pushed herself to her feet, pulling a bloodied hand away from the deep gash in her bicep and taking out a cigarette, lighting it quickly and taking a long draw off of it. Looking at the two that had come up to check out the crash.

 "Yeah, we had one and if I find that gorram mechanic I will drop him in deep space before he can say Browncoat," she spat as she held the smoke between her teeth.

 "All injuries report to the infirmary, if you can't have someone carry you," she yelled into the com before turning back to the two new comers and then over to Iean.

 "Preacher, take these two to the problem and have them get to work," she said as she pushed the smoke from between her teeth. "One of you start working on repairs, the other bring me a damage assessment in the infirmary. I'll hire both of you if you can get this gorram ship off the ground in less than a week, if not I'll pay one and hire the other. Who ever is better at the job," she said before storming off back into the ship and making her way down to the infirmary to patch up her arm and see who else got the blue blazes knocked out of them.

[User]
Gideon looked over with a mental groan at the other mechanic, the man was downright unflappable in the situation. He looked back at those that were talking and cast glance back to the other potential rival. He stowed his bike to the corner and came back to the fellow grease monkey to talk to him as calmly as he could while waiting for the preacher

"Alright, lets keep this simple, we can't be in there butting heads or else we both going to be stuck on this rock. One of us needs to do the hard work and the other one do the reports. Have you ever done overhauls to a firefly before?"

He had done a lot of work in the war, scrapping and slapping ships parts that were shot down or captured alliance pieces. Of them he had to appreciate purple belly tech, it was all built around like lego blocks. Push it in, pull it out, ultimate efficiency.

"Alright, lets assume for a second everything is (insert chinese here), We have the the two shuttles and the firefly made by the same people who make Dragonflies, her kissing cousin.
After that we got the bumble bee which is the inbred cousin, then yellow-jackets who are the brother from another mother and hornets that look like you from a ways off but aint got nothing to do with you. with Scarabs limping in at the last.

If the reactor is gone, A dragonfly has the same make we can use, but we can cobble together something that will limp with a long range shuttle to take apart or take a huge risk with finding a bumblebee to take apart piece by piece for what we need like a compression coil or the kin. The engine is in the same boat, either a dragonfly for a full replacement or a shuttle for parts. And again for the thrusters.
Hell we can get her just about anywhere for a spell if we scrap both of her shuttled for parts. But i'd rather not kill the babies to feed the momma-bird, she'll know and she'll let us know her displeasure.

Sensor packs we can get from both of those as well as any bumblebee, scarab, or hornet. Same for the whole computer. If the coms are down, then we can get it from anything but the scarab. What do you say?"

[Assistant]
The captain headed down to the infirmary grumbling under her breath as she held her cigarette between her lips in the corner of her mouth. Storming in she rolled her eyes at the mess that had been caused by the crash and started rummaging though what was scattered about on the floor to find what she was looking for.

 After a while she gave up and opted for doing it the old fashion way. Grabbing a gauze she cleaned up the wound and flicked her lighter, letting the flame build up heat on its steel surface. Once the top part began to glow she took a deep breath and pressed it against the wound, cauterizing it. Her breath held and her fingers curled against the counter. Pulling the lighter back she shook her grip loose and shoved the lighter back in her pocket.

 Pulling the cigarette from her lips she paced a bit as she swung her arm about. Her foot kicking a small box, tilting her head she looked down and narrowed her eyes, it had been the kit she had been looking for.

 "Figures," she said as she made her way back out of the infirmary and headed right for the bridge. She needed a damage assessment go the electrical and the rest of the systems.

[User]
Rune groaned, physically as the other mechanic waffled on about the ships related to the Firefly, referring to those ships literally as family, with Dragonflies being the cousins, and all the other insect named ships. "Never spoke to another mechanic that refers to all those ships like that. I've done an overhaul from a firefly, can't imagine it to be much different. I mean they are practically like lego blocks."

Of course, he had done work as a mechanic before, actually overhauling from a firefly. And it was like lego blocks, but it wasn't as easy as he made it sound, as he didn't have quite the technical skills. He mostly had the technical knowledge. "Anyway, yeah sounds like a good idea, splitting the work and taking parts from those other ships. We could even use the thrusters and engine from the Wren class ship. I mean sure the engine and thrusters were meant for a smaller lighter ship, so they would be a slightly different model, but it will work as a makeshift to get the ship off the ground and to one of the other planets to get some real repairs. This place isn't really the best place to fully repair it so yeah." He mostly quoted things from the books and what he could remember. He only hoped that he didn't make a fool of himself and compromise himself. There shouldn't have been anything wrong with what he had said though.

Starting to make his way into the ship, he looked up at Hannah, who was on the railings. "Anyway, I'll let you decide whether to do ship repairs or reports. Or we could both do some of both. Up to you. For now, I think that lady over there could use some help." indicating to the girl on the railings. "Need some help to the infirmary young miss?" Offering her some help.

[Assistant]
"Good plan, while you help everyone, find out if anyone knows where we can conjure the parts we need. I'd rather not bleed just my contacts, you know?"

With that plan in motion, he set off for the engine to wonder what hell of the holy dragon happened to the engines. He unslung the multi-took from the hook on his hip as he hung the heavy brown coat on a nearby nut like he already belonged. In the left pocket was three goose eggs for anyone who went looking.

The door opened to both a grizzly and lacking sight as he pulled out a bowens miner mask. To anyone else the place was covered in soot, black from head to toe. Those that knew what instantaneous cremation looked like, it was a different story.

What happened was fairly simple: When a ship preps to leave atmo, it pulls in the last air and activates all the vacuum seals to make it tight as a drum. Now if something happens to the compressors, the air grows heavy from the pressure and usually nothing occurs. But, Something as simple as a blocked intake vent, with shorted compressors because someone is defragging the ships hardrive, while someone cooks in the galley... astronomical odds. All the intake of air came to the engine room as it prepped to make the jump and the oxygen rich area compressed into an explosion like the piston in an old car.

Whatever could burn did burn, the old mechanic probably went up like a microwaved battery with instant death being the best thing to hope to Buddha for as his chemical remains painted the engine room in the black oil of his misted body. Gideon started flushing the air vents by blowing the air compressors to bleed dry before starting on electrical to see which wires melted together from the burst of heat. Every wire that had to be replaced was going to be time consuming more than anything else. Hours were out the window, days of they were lucky and could sleep on the ship.


[System]
Aliases: Alrin the Black

Mentors: Lankhar the Enternal, Asphixious the Overlord.

Gender: Male.

Race: Half-Elf.

Appearance: Alrin is tall and lithe yet still athletic looking as an elf would look but still looks are deceiving, his eyes are coloured hazel brown with a mix of grey, his skin is a pale pallor and he has a large scar that overlaps his mouth, Alrin has long dark brown hair that reaches his shoulders, Alrin is dressed in a billowing black hooded robe that has designs of Elvish leaves the design is around the shoulder,cape and neck areas.

Alrin also underneath wears light leather protection and when not in battle sometimes dons a tunic of his tastes.

Backstory: Alrin used to be a young farmboy who tended to sheep and cattle in a small unnamed thorp he used to call home, Alrin never knew his father but he knew that his father was an Elf and his mother had left him with her brother Sam Granar a dashing Ranger who was fond of the drink, music and women Alrin loved Sam as he would a father and Alrin had a happy life for at least 20 more years until he was 22 when a band of orcs raided the thorp and pillaged an destroyed everything he had cared for, he even witnessed the brutal death of his Uncle Sam hewn to pieces by an orcs mighty axe.

As Alrin waded in battled until he met a one of the largest orcs he had ever seen in his life almost 8 ft tall with a large great sword it took one swing and Alrin was sent to the ground and as he sat their blood streaming down his face he felt around his body for the wounds and he felt a large cut along his chest and an even larger cut across his face from a piece of wood probably on the ground it should have made him blind but it hadn't, the large Orc had been approaching and was about to deal the final blow when he heard a loud voice and saw a pair of black boots appear in front of the large Orc the voice said.

"Don't kill this one I will need him I have dreamt of this day!"

And that was when he met his mentor Lankhar who taught him the way of magic and trained him in the Arts of Necromancy for the next five years he became more and more potent and his wounds healed from battle only leaving the scar on his mouth that lead to his chest.

Lankhar passed Alrin down to a master but it was with great difficulty because he was forced to because Asphixious the Overlord commanded he teach Alrin the ways of the true Necromancer and he learnt to master the magic but it took a long time until Alrin was 37 to completely master Necromancy then only then Asphixious let Alrin set out on his own Asphixious passed on to the place where great Necromancers must make a choice and so did Lankhar but it was not Alrin's right to interfere.

How did you find out about the tower?: On his travels Alrin stumbled upon many things and met many people along the way but once on one stary night Alrin was hunting a few yards away from his camp when he met face to face with a small gnome dressed all in green.

"A message for a Spellcaster from Prince Seadus"

The little gnome gave him the letter and then vanished into thin air, besides the odd little gnome the letter stated about the tower which Alrin had heard whispers about in the minds of those long dead and those Alrin had killed and he was interested he knew the letter was a plea for some kind of help and that is Alrin had time to read about other than that he read the directions and then he bolted for camp preparing for the journey to the tower.

Personality: Quiet and softspoken but very adaptable and friendly, Alrin is very driven by his goals but he is often distracted by his studies, but he is very fond of music, especially Elvish music although he does love normal music he also loves a good Ale once every so often eventhough he isn't a drunkard, Alrin is good humoured but dark at times he is always somewhat sad or depressed because of his life and his history but he never lets his depression get to him that is why he surrounds himself with activity, he tolerated his mentors but truthfully hated them both for making him what he is and for destroying his life and Alrin also loaths Orcs but keeps in mind that they are people as well.

Magic School and Skill: Normal magical understandings:

- Understanding of the culture and standard spells.

- Understanding of the castings and rituals of magical spell scrolls and Tomes.

- Understanding of the magical tongue and pronouncements of spells and rituals.

- Common Spells such as Detect magic and etc...

- Knowledge of the other planes of existence.

The School of Necromancy.
The user's magical abilities revolve around manipulating the dead, death, the life-force and/or souls for good (i.e., resurrecting the dead), evil (in various ways) or neither.

Users can also use communicate with the deceased.

(either by summoning their spirit as an apparition or raising them bodily for the purpose of divination, imparting the means to foretell future events or discover hidden knowledge)

Many practitioners find a way to cheat death one way or another, whether by becoming some form of undead creature or by bypassing their own ability to die.

Weapons: Darkwood Quarterstaff, a Sickle (or A.K.A: Sacrificial Dagger) and a Silvered Scimitar that his uncle once owned.

[User]
At first Matuna though that the drunk stranger was a servant, but he quickly decided otherwise. Surely if the old man drank that much he would have last his job ages ago, so the only other explanation as that he was another wizard; probably one that also came in uninvited. When he bumped into him after laughing about something, the troll was merely annoyed but lowered his opinion of the elder even further.

However the fact that the human kept laughing without showing fear or repulsion towards what most of his kind considered a big ugly monster, caused the troll to readjust his first impression. "Drunk or not he must be pretty powerful to get in here, and he is surely no coward." In an attempt to make things less uncomfortable for the newcomer he ignored the man while feigning an obviously fake interest in some of the paintings decorating the Prince's walls.

[Assistant]
He got over his anger but he now took interest in the drunkard but also was equally amused by the amount of scowls that were seen while he walked down the halls that he walked he approached one fellow who seemed equally amused by the appearance of the drunkard, Alrin walked up beside him and said.

"How can a man get that drunk for that long,"

He said smiling at the man.

"My names Alrin I'm a Necromancer and that man should lay of the ale,"

He laughed and then he looked at the man again.

"So what is your name?"

Alrin asked, he made conversation because he was bored of all the other people in this joint he wanted at least one person to converse with mainly because everyone seemed like hermits who wanted nothing but recluse from society.

[User]
Umbrix

---

This new fellow... the drink will do that to you.

Umbrix watched the scenes unfold, eyes narrowed and smile gone. All he gathered so far was that this immense, legendary, idolized tower was quickly becoming home to a mismatch of colorful arcane practitioners.

It was many things. Uncommon. Suspicious. Foolish. Dangerous, even. Congregations of the non-mundane were often met with skepticism crossing into bravado and xenophobia from the forces outside. The everyman does not question a meeting of mages, he assumes the worst and attempts to destroy it with righteous force and vigor.

What did this Seadus want? Whatever it was, this gathering was a risky game to put into motion to attain it.

He should be ready.

They all should.

[Assistant]
Alton sighed the time was over to be cheery it was time for action he walked away from the gentlemen he just talked to and pulled out a small black tome he had on him and began reading it the runes shining his face in light he scowled as he read and thought of some incantations that he had been studying about over the weeks that it took to get to the tower.

He looked over himself seeing if he carried anything that he thought unsuitable for the presence of Lord Seadus.

Alrin saw no problems with anything other than his hair being a mess and his eyes looked a little wild from mulitiple days on the road.

He brushed his cloak off and ran his hand through his long hair clearing his head of any leaves or other unclean things he deemed unacceptable.

Once Alrin was done he put his tome away in a belt pouch about as large as a Bat with its wings spread apart, he used this pouch to hold any small tomes he had on him or special ingredients or components for spells.

He looked around the halls at pictures of grand landscapes and pictures of battles fought long long ago and appreciated the pictures for they told stories better than any bard could tell.

Alvin began wondering what Lord Seadus wanted from all of them, he thought of many possible things such as lowly favours like to kill a group of Orcs that have ventured to far into the vicinity of the Tower or to cast spells for him Alrin thought Seadus probably just wanted to introduce himself or maybe tell them all what has been pestering him.


[System]
Normal Appearance:
peaking just above twelve meters, she stands under Optimus Prime only barely.

Alternate form:
Mightly large and unwieldy, Prism's vehicle is perfect for taking a hit and ramming into others and walls. It's large size also allows her t carry additional cargo while in vehicle mode.

Former faction: Autobots

Role: Heavy Weapons/Demolition

Weapons and tools: -Shoulder mounted Gatling guns
-shoulder mounted rockets (Can be used briefly, but requires external power source)
-Demolition tools
-Dual shotguns hidden in legs
-multitude of grenades
-deployable struts to stand still.
-python-like biceps (Prism flexes haughtily while laughing)

Personality: While tough and gruff, Prism enjoys a good laugh. It's hard to find a good laugh in the wasteland that she lives in, but she tries her best to keep her chin up. She knows the struggles of war, having been an Autobot for decades, if not a century or two, she can't quite keep track of how long it's been since actual, full on peacetime. Was it just centuries? She couldn't remember if it was that or even longer.

She respected the Last of the Primes. She still does. Though, Prism couldn't help but think that the main reason she was left on Cybertron was because how much exploding she tended to do on a regular basis. Even with her hopes, the back of her mind does scorn Optimus to some level for abandoning their planet.

History: Prism has always seen war. There were very few moments in time in which she didn't remember one faction fighting against another. She didn't join the Autobots solely for the sake of fighting the good fight. She was good with heavy weapons and explosives since her creation, and she knew it. If anyone was going to be their demolition expert, it was going to be her. Unfortunately, Brawn was a couple steps ahead of her in the Demo department. He worked as a friend and ally to Prism, even showing her a few new things every once and a while. He deserved to be the resident Explosives man, but she still wished to take the spot from him.

She looked up to Prime and the others, eventually looking just to her side to see them as she worked with them against the Decepticons. When they eventually left the planet, Optimus refused to let her go with them aboard the Ark. He had told her that she would help keep together whatever fragments were left of the Autobots, and that she would be able to lead a sect of her own, but it didn't work out as they planned. The Autobots quickly fell apart under the appointed lead of Prism, and the Autobots were a thing of the past. Luckily, it seemed as if the rival faction had shared the same fate, so it wasn't all too bad.

Without anything to do, Prism spent her time taking care of herself, continuing to hone her bomb making and disarming skills, as well as keeping her aim straight. It wasn't until she hit a roadblock in her learning that she decided to try again to rebuild the planet, knowing that just the Autobots weren't going to be enough. She needed the help of her enemies as well. With that, she sent out a beacon to call any and all willing bodies to help her rebuild.

Extras and additional information: Prism has a deployable EOD mask, but uses it for combat as well.
Voice -Claudia Christain
Theme Song -Technologic VS Feel Good Inc - Daft Punk and Gorillaz

Relations with other characters: Nightscream - "Who is SHE calling a Sparkling!?"

Sklog - "Pretty quiet, but that's not a bad thing."

Turbulence - "He just... He fell out of the sky!"

[User]
She couldn't. She heard very well that Turbulence had said to her, but she couldn't bring herself to stand, much less touch the dead body of her now former leader. She could only look up at the dead body of the once great bot who had inspired her to become more than what she was. Without his guidance, she would have never been where she was now. He lived and existed before the war, he knew of sense and how to live. She was created for the purpose of war, meant to destroy and kill and die for another to take her place.

But he taught her that she was more than that.

Looking at his body, she could remember when she had come back from her tenth successful mission after having graduated from the academy.

"Prism." She remembered him saying. He had pulled her aside soon after she had returned on her own. The team she was placed on deemed the mission too dangerous for bots of their skill level, but she stayed and finished it to the bitter end. "Why did you not follow Prowl's orders when he called you all back? He is your commander and the only one in your group that isn't fresh out of the academy."

"Because I knew I could bring it down." She remembered herself replying hastily, grunting as her arms crossed one another. "That ambush wasn't enough to stop me, and I think I should be commended for finishing the mission rather than running back."

Back then, she was still a sparkling, a greenhorn demolitions expert who had been assigned to what was believed be a simple mission. They were to take down a new decepticon outpost that had just been put up, and wasn't believed to have had any ranking officers there. However, the intel of the mission was wrong, and Starscream himself was there, overseeing the construction and finalization of the outpost. Prowl had decided that starscream was too much for just himself and a squad of trainees, and had ordered them to retreat. Prism didn't listen and took the mission into her own hands, rushing the base in her alt mode and setting her charges as she went along. Starscream was too busy screeching at the grunts to do any of the work himself, and thus the two never fought. Soon enough, Prism drove away and detonated the base as soon as she was just out of the danger zone. It was risky and life-threatening, but she got the job done.

"You did finish the mission, and I'm sure that you will finish other missions in the future, but at what cost?" He asked her. His solid blue eyes looked down at her, his battle mask off as they were in Iacon at that time. Unlike her, he lacked pupils in his eyes, but that didn't stop him from letting her know that he was looking down at her. "Will you take the same reckless path in all of your missions? We are in a time of war, but that does not allow you to throw your life away for a completed job."

"What's it matter?" Her tone was rather annoyed at his words. "If we all worked like I did, then we'd be in Kaon quicker and have Megatron at his knees."

"If we all worked like you did." He parroted her words. "Then there would not be anyone to celebrate the victory over the descriptions. " There was no beating around the bush; Optimus Prime wanted her to know the dangers and risks of her actions. "Yours actions today could have failed, and you could have died, Prism. We have already lost too many Autobots in this war, and I will not let you do this to yourself if I have any say in this."

"I'm just a war bot! I was meant to kill and die, there's nothing I can do that another can't do just the same!" Prism exploded at her commanding officer. "I got the job done when the others wouldn't step up!"

Prime's head tilted down in what seemed to be silent rage at her words. His cold and hard stare actually broke through her tough words as he returned with some of his own. "It's more than the job, Prism, it's your own life at stake. You may have been created during this war, you may have thicker armor and heavier weaponry, but your spark is just like mine, just like Prowl, Ratchet, and many others created before the war. Your spark is no less valuable, and neither is your life. This may be your view on life, but I will not accept it. There is more to you than you can imagine, more than you can see right now. When this war is over, maybe then you will see that there is more to you than meets the eye."

Those words resonated with her even after all of this time. Prime instilled within her a sense of self worth that was more than just a disposable tool for killing. The fate that he kept her from was the same that he had met, she knew that much. The only way he would have gone down was by protecting every last spark in the name of peace and justice.

Her eyes tightened shut, the memory fading as she returned to the present. Slowly, she looked up at Prime and nodded. She rose at a similar pace, nearing the corpse and assisting Turbulence in prying the chest plate off.

Even with her strength, it was no easy task, but the two doors that led to his spark finally opened to reveal to things to her.

With the cavity opened, she could see a gaping hole where Prime's spark once was, showing the back of the pod between mangled cords and other metal pieces.

The second thing was both similar and something else entirely.

Right below where his spark once laid, the very Matrix of Leadership sat in it's compartment in Prime's body, completely untouched, but the crystal inside dim and dark. It laid dormant, not inactive. There were no signs of damage or wear on the gold-orange dome, nor the silver handles on each side.

Prism looked at the Matrix and looked to Turbulence, almost as if she were afraid that her very gaze would break it. Optimus, the last of the Primes was dead, and the matrix was jettisoned off with his body in hopes that someone back on Cybertron would be able to do something with it. When she finally spoke, her tone was soft and scared, almost like the was a sparkling all over again.

"What do we do now?"

[Assistant]
Turbulence gave a very audible sigh of relief upon seeing the Matrix of Leadership still intact and rightly confined within Optimus Prime. Whatever the fateful circumstances had befallen the Autobots who bravely followed Optimus Prime, they were at least successful in sending away their prize to somewhere that was safe; supposedly safe given recent events. But with Prime now deceased, what good what the Matrix to him? What good was the Matrix to anyone now, especially considering the revered artifact's fading state?

"I..." Turbulence hesitated; he found himself stumped on the very question too, "Well...we can't just leave him here"

Looking where they had come from, he could see the the lab's silhouette within the haze that surrounded the looming structures of Kaon. Around him and Prism were the Junkions, still remaining silent but nonetheless observant of the two Autobots and their privileged quarry, "Especially not here."

Thinking hard about their situation, the only thought or parallel that Turbulence could muster was Iacon. It made sense really, at least to him; Iacon, much like Kaon was to the Decepticons, was their home city. Their turf. But much of the megalopolis had been destroyed by the Decepticon's fierce assaults. Turbulence could not even recall there ever being a sector untouched after the battle was over. That is, if it was truly over, given the skirmishes that he would hear about daily. Even so, it was still the same city Orion Pax was inaugurated into Optimus Prim.

"My only idea would be Iacon. It would be proper to return Prime there," he anxiously suggested, "We may - just may learn what to do afterwards."

[User]
Hearing the heavy thumps on the stairs, Nightscream looked back at the door. It didn't look like Sklog was going to try and extinguish her spark again, making her somewhat more relaxed. "You did keep a flight capable mode, right?" she inquired, seeing some changes to his chassis has happened since she last laid optics on the former dinobot.

Leaping into the air she transformed, engines revving up. "If not hop on, but let's not make a habit of this! And if you say you're afraid of flying you're losing your brawler card!" the seeker said jokingly. Pulling up a navigation widgets, she looked at the map and found the spot where Prime's mobile tomb landed.

Could they send Megatron too? That would be a great relief.

...

I hope you are all right, Brother.

As soon as Sklog decided whether he needed or wanted her help or not, Nightscream blasted off and headed for the Autobots.

[Assistant]
The Junkions all looked around at one another, even Wreck-Gar unable to step forward and say something to them. His face, normally jovial and as carefree as the wind, was unsure. He looked at the dead body of Optimus Prime, a figure that all of the Junkions had seen before at one point or another from hijacking Earth communication waves. He was unsure if he should tell the two Autobots what he and the others had heard. They had believed it to be just convenience that all of the words that they heard were organized in such a way, and didn't actually believe the death of the last Prime when it had reached their ears, but now there was absolute proof, and without his spark, there was no possible way for them to fix him. Of course, they could fix the body and put a new spark in it, but it wouldn't be Prime.

"We'll help, we'll help." Wreck-Gar finally spoke up and looked to Prism and Turbulence. "We'll get that delivery done in thirty minutes or it's on the house." His tone, however, matched the general feeling that all of the Junkions were feeling. He was trying to be happy, or at least not let his true emotions show, but he did feel remorse for the fallen commander all the same.

Prism looked at Optimus Prime almost expectantly. There had to be something, she told herself over and over. Something that Prime himself left for his troops or for the ones still on Cybertron. Kup left the message, that yellow Autobot sent the pod, so what did Prime do? There had to have been something. A message, a tool, anything. Something to tell them what to do and how to continue onward, something telling them exactly what they were going to be up against.

Turbulence was right, though. They should be heading for Iacon so they can take the pod apart and see if the others had left anything else to help Cybertron against Megatron, or whoever had done this to Optimus. They needed to start rebuilding, getting ready for whatever was ahead of them, and see what others remained on cybertron in hopes of them helping out as well.

Slowly, she moved aside, letting the Junkions work to pry the pod out of the ground. She wanted that whole thing. There was no way that she wasn't going to take it apart and flip it inside out to see if anyone had left them anything but the Matrix and Optimus. Maybe they didn't know how bad things were back on Cybertron, maybe they did. If there was anyone still out there, she hoped that they could get in touch soon.

She then turned to Wreck-Gar, looking at him curiously as they watched his bots do their work. "You never told us why you're here, Wreck-Gar. Normally, you lot are pretty territorial of your own space." She smiled and laughed a little. "You aren't thinking of taking over Cybertron, are you?"

"Yep yep, quite the astute one, you are!" He chirped much happier this time. "We thought the sky was fallin' when we saw that thing there fly past us, so we followed is here, yes we did. We come in peace." He smiled back and even laughed at the two.


[System]
<Agent Profile - CLASSIFIED>
Code Name: Arzt
Age: 20
Gender: Male

Appearance:
His hair is a light walnut color, and he has bright blue eyes. Victor has a very slight build and is somewhat pale. When out of uniform he wears high quality suits almost exclusively. He prides himself on his flexibility and durability, despite his somewhat lacking physique. His glasses are surprisingly durable, able to take a solid hit from a pipe. He hopes to avoid testing this while they're still on his face however.

Psychological Profile: Victor is an oddity in terms of personality. He exhibits no sociopathic tendencies nor does he have a history of psychosis within his family. He's friendly, warm, and polite, almost to a fault. He is a team player, works well in groups, and rarely shows signs of disobedience or problems with authority.

He is also ruthlessly efficient and calculating when given a goal. He does not hesitate to take the quickest path from A to B, and seems to hold no remorse or guilt to his methods, no matter what they may be. It is possible he has mild multiple personality disorder, as comprehensive analysis shows he has gaps in his memory from certain missions. During interrogations, his Bloodline has manifested as a very useful tactic for gathering information without causing undue harm to the prisoner. However, it should be noted that he takes no pleasure or satisfaction through torture or killing. Rather he seems to view it as part of the job and reacts rather neutrally to that aspect.

His knowledge of anatomy makes him deadly in espionage, however his combat skills are below average in a straight up fight. If he cannot take the enemy by surprise or maintain an advantage against them, he is no better then a regular grunt in a firefight. Best kept as a skirmisher or saboteur, he shows a great understanding of electronic systems, allowing him to double as a hacker and assassin.

Specialty: Intelligence - Dagula

Skill Appraisal
First Aid - S
Electronics - A
Infiltration - A
Combat - C

Bloodline: Faust - Körperwissen: Victor has an unprecedented, almost inhuman understanding of the human body and how it works, able to pinpoint nerve bundles, pressure points, and weak points to paralyze, incapacitate, or cause his target to bleed out in a matter of seconds. With a single glance at another person, he can fully understand everything about their biology, from weaknesses and strengths to how long they can push their endurance before their body fails them, without any prior knowledge about them. This unique skillset makes him a superb assassin, as a single attack from him can cripple or kill his target, and interrogator, as he can easily make superficial wounds seem far more dramatic or painful then they actually are. It is generally accepted that if Victor can get the drop on the enemy, he will win in a single strike.

Personal History: Victor was born to a rather renowned German surgeon and a mistress. His father's wife accepted the child as her own however, under the requirements that he have nothing to do with the mistress. Raised in fairly elegant luxury, Victor's unprecedented anatomical knowledge suggested he would have made quite a living as a doctor. After the marriage between his father and stepmother crumbled, Victor and his little brother underwent a grueling and somewhat brutal custody battle, finally resulting in Victor being put in the care of his father and his brother in the care of his stepmom. While not abusive, Victor's father was far from nurturing, leading Victor to join the Academy without his consent. Though he was originally slated to be a medic in Logi, his aptitude and personality soon had him noticed by those within Dagula. He expressed dissatisfaction at being a medic, possibly due to his relationship with his father, and agreed to the transfer. He has since become one of the top wetwork agents.

Due to his brutal efficiency and capabilities, he was transferred to Division Six, and he seems to be rather excited at the challenge.

Though his father originally attempted to take his son out of the Academy due to the potential for poor publicity, Victor's own protests and performance has since quelled the matter. According to most, Victor is on an extended stay with relatives outside of Germany. This suits the boy just fine.

Weaponry:
H&K p2000 9mm pistol, he keeps a silencer on it at all times. He considers the pistol a "Loud, obtrusive tool used as a last resort."
His usual choice of weapons is a heavy loadout of tactical knives, both throwing and melee oriented, and a garrote wire.

Other relevant information: Victor is a native German speaker, and is capable of speaking English, Italian, Japanese, and incredibly broken Russian. He has a thick accent with all of them however.
He also practices yoga, and his favorite pose is Tree.

[User]
The following introductions from Victor, Nadia, Deuce, and Aimee pleased her. All different people with their own unique qualities and personalities. It was also nice to see that everyone was being polite at some degree. Nellie only hoped that the peace would last until they finished their critical first mission. Mistrust and miscommunication could destroy the team. Since everyone was done introducing themselves, Nellie leaned back on her chair, her eyes closing as she half-listened to Robin's and Suzumi's conversation.

She heard Robin formulating a plan where all of them would pair up and surround the enemy. It was a good one, and since Nellie had no objections, she kept her mouth shut. However, that cool silence she was trying to maintain almost shattered when Robin called Suzumi his fair lady. He was certainly a charming man. Then a few knocks were heard and Robin got up to answer the door.

Nellie looked over to observe the newcomer, noting his rather slobby appearance and the cigarette in his hand. Her lips trembled into a frown. Smoking was not healthy. Anyways, his name was Ellis Williams and honestly, his introduction confused Nellie. What in the world was Left 4 Dead 2? It wasn't good being left behind by your comrades… Huh. She was almost embarrassed to ask what he meant. Other then that, Ellis seemed just as skilled as the others were.

She never had the privilege of doing 'normal things'. What little free-time she had was spent training, studying, or cleaning her weapon. The assault program was brutal. Sniper school was also brutal, if not worse. There were many students who dropped out or died because they failed to complete their target missions in time. Nellie thought about the many 'practice' runs she had to go through. There was one time were they were left stranded with just ammo and their sniper rifle. If she recalled correctly, two people were killed. Yet she survived, all of those practice missions shaping Nellie into what she is today.

Well it was time for her to get to know people. Actually, it was time for her to lecture a certain someone about the dangers of smoking. The tall woman got up from her chair and made her way towards the rugged guy who was now drinking coffee. She stopped just mere inches away from him, her eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

"Smoking will surely kill you," she quietly murmured before snapping out of her lecture-mode. Bad Nellie. You have to get to know this person first before trying to stop their bad habits. She quickly changed the subject, color rising to her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself. She took a step back, averting her gaze. "Uhm, so what's this Left 4 Dead 2? Is that some sort of American mythology?"

[Assistant]
His ears twitched as he heard Nellie coming, and, instead of turning to look at her, he replied, "Just as surely as this city will. Might die young, might as well get some enjoyment out of life." He smiled and turned to face her, then gave a nervous laugh and ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry, that was a bit morbid. But, you're right, I shouldn't smoke as much as I do. I'll try to tone it down a bit for you, if it'll make you feel better." He took another long drink of his coffee, then set the empty mug on the counter.

"Never heard of it, huh? It's kind of an older game, early 2000's, was about these four people who were trying to survive the apocalypse. One of the character's names was Ellis, was a real country hick. I expect Murphy over there to get it, so it was a word of warning to him, mostly." He was honestly surprised she hadn't heard of it, however that was beside the point. "Er, sorry, didn't mean to bore you with some dumb game reference."

Wow, Ellis, smooth, he thought, letting out a sigh. He wasn't good talking to people he didn't know well, and tended to either ramble about something stupid or not talk at all. It was hard to find a good middle ground, but he didn't want it to fall into an awkward silence. To fill that void, he'd just ask a simple question. Get her to do all the work and talk. "So, I missed a bit there. Care to fill me in on what the other's are like? Or, if you don't feel like gossiping, just something about you. I totally understand if you don't want to talk to a stranger about yourself, though," he added hastily, beginning to get flustered again.

[User]
Her lips pulled up into a bright smile when Ellis said he would tone down his smoking. It was a start. While his response before that was morbid, it was true. Arkhan was a filthy city with crime and corruption festering in every corner. That was why Cerberus formed a team of highly skilled individuals - they were supposed to cleanse Arkhan. Ellis then began to explain what Left 4 Dead 2 was with Nellie hanging on to every word.

When he finished talking, Nellie could almost touch the nervousness that the man was giving off. In some odd way, Nellie was relieved. She had trouble socializing as well so it was good that they were practicing now. "Not at all, I think that the game's concept is interesting. Perhaps I'll play it once we finish our first mission," she said. "Ah." She glanced down at the ground in thought as she tried to come up with a couple of phrases that described the others. Nothing came in mind - Nellie didn't know them that well. "Can't really say much. All I know is that they're skilled...I'm sure they're all good people though," she optimistically added.

A light chuckle escaped her lips as she looked at him. "I guess we better start breaking the 'stranger' relationship stage, right? Hmm, something about me? Well, uh, I enjoy baking?" She suddenly sighed, bringing up a hand to her forehead. "Goodness, I'm terrible at this. Uhm... I don't really have any hobbies besides shooting and baking. I've spent most of my life training," she said with a slight frown. Maybe she should have went out more. How about you?"

[Assistant]
Murphy watched as more introductions ticked out, one by one, all more or less lining up with what was expected of an intro. When the other American walked in and introduced himself, Murphy had already been formulating a few Left 4 Dead jokes, as that game had been a decent part of his teenage years. Sadly for him, the other man cut him off at the pass by indicating he was in no way okay with those jokes. He sighed and allowed his eyes to cast about, looking at the various discussions beginning to unfold around him as the various members of the team began to talk to one another and get to know each-other. Suzumi and the TL, Ellis and Nellie the sniper, everyone seemed to be pairing off pretty quickly, so it would behoove him to do so as well. However, of them, who had piqued his interest enough to warrant a talk?

Maybe the driver, Aimee she'd said her name was, or "Lady Ascension". She was a real wizard with vehicles, though he did recall her being rather quirky back during the academy. However, he also recalled her incredible skill with anything that moved, from planes to choppers to armored vehicles. He remembered once their chopper had begun to malfunction in mid-air, and he'd prepped to jump out with a fast-rope and hope for the best, along with the others moving with him. However, despite what should've been a game-ending malfunction, not only did she get them to their target, but she stayed on station long enough to get them out too. Based on that memory alone, he'd happily entrust his life to the girl, and that was good as, if ever WAS caught out of her vehicle, she'd have to do the same with him.

He approached her then, an easy smile on his face, and pulled up a seat next to her. Grabbing his jacket over and setting it on the table next to him, he gave a slight smile. Not that they'd know it, but this was actually a pretty substantial show of trust for Jacob, when given that he barely knew her. Sure, he wasn't some paranoid shell-shocked vet, but he did like to be safe in his line of work. So, it was a big deal that he had set his jacket, and thus his gun, further out of reach than if it were just around the chair. With that easy smile persisting, he asked her "So, Lady Ascension, or would you prefer me to call you Aimee? I remember ridin with you a few times back in Academy, glad to see you're here too. So, whaddya think about all this then?" With that, he gestured to the others before continuing "Seem like a good enough lot to me, so far at least. We'll all be trusting you, but I don't have a problem with it. You're the best damn wheel-woman, pilot, whatever I've ever had the pleasure of experiencin."


[System]
Super Name: Toon Girl

Appearance:

Powers/Skills:
Toon Strength - Depending on her mood, Light can have various levels of Super Strength. While sad or depressed, her arms are basically noodles and can't lift much of anything. When she is determined or angry, her super strength can jump up to levels that can only be matched by a few. In her default state however shes strong enough to be able to lift up a small house and run with it only slightly encumbered. She can also lift enchanted items such as Thor's Hammer, but WILL NOT gain any positive or negative effects from them unless she would normally fill those criteria.

Toon Regeneration - Light can regenerate from almost any affliction much like any cartoon. The healing can vary on how long it takes, depending on the injury, with physical blows being the fastest to bounce back from, while more energy based things like fire might take longer to regenerate from. Supernatural afflictions or mental afflictions take the longest to regenerate from, and can take upwards of 20 minutes to regenerate from in some cases. Additionally since shes a toon, many injuries that affect her tend to be more 'showy', such as her turning into ash after being on fire for a short time, explosives just charring her black and maybe turning her to ash, body parts finding their way back to her or her pulling new body parts out of stumps if she is cut, blowing herself back to normal, bullets passing through her and leaving holes, turning green when sick, and the like. She doesn't bleed, has amazing resistances to reality warping abilities, and she can adapt quickly to hostile environments such as underwater or the depths of space.

Toon Physics - Light is affected by physics differently, although core concepts are still followed. Examples are attacks do extra damage, she can stretch like rubber if being pulled/hit, incinerated to ash because of a mild fire, extreme unluckiness, being able to ignore the pull of gravity if unaware that it should affect her for a time, and other various benefits and hindrances that often follow the 'rule of cool' or comedy.

Portable Hole - Light can pull a portable hole from the inside of her dress. This lets her travel to familiar places or any point along her sight lines, and only she, stuff she wears, or stuff in her Pocket Space can enter, the hole feeling like inky paper to anyone else. When placed, either in the air or on the ground, the second hole appears once she enters the first one. There is a slight time delay between when she enters the hole and when she exits the second hole, which is extended if either hole was placed in the air.

Pocket Space - Light can store and pull objects from a place she calls 'pocket space', located under her dress. She can pull various objects from this space, but most if not stored previously tend to be useless or downright hazardous if they have the ACME logo on them, and objects pulled from this space tend to look a bit more 'cartoony' then normal. Light can't store or pull living objects from her pocket space.

Reality Siphon - Light steals the reality from whatever she touches. Light gives off a 'creepy' feeling when touched as she steals away the reality of the object or person shes touching. When an object has lost some reality, it is unable to gain energy from other sources but itself until its reality is restored. When Light isn't touching something, it regains its reality back after a short period depending on how much was lost. When an object has lost lots of its reality, it starts to take on the look of a Toon, but with no beneficial powers, and when it loses all of its reality, it disappears to... Reality warping beings have a minor resistance to this ability and massive or cosmic entities have greater resistance to this ability. Magical things lose their energy quickly. This power can't be turned off and Light has no control over its intensity.
This ability allows her to affect Ghosts and other ethereal bodies, and anything that tries to siphon off Light's energy or tries to possess her will suffer a much more severe version of this ability.

Equipment: Whatever is stored in her pocket space.

Weaknesses:
-Takes extra damage from attacks
-Has an EXCEPTIONALLY difficult time escaping from things that constrict her movement like ropes or nets.
-Extremely unlucky, almost to the point where she might just as well have a target painted on her head.
-Very susceptible to drugs and some chemicals.
-Has a very poor judgement of 'seriousness' and tends to fall into traps very easily as danger isn't something she can really perceive well.
-Tends to mostly be a pacifist when fighting, and would rather talk or play with her enemies than fight them. This makes her very easy to talk down from a fight or even bring to your side temporarily. (Lex = instant win) Also makes her very easy to distract.
-While strong, she isn't trained in martial arts. Shes also fairly light and easy to throw around.
-Due to her 'creepy' touch and slightly unsettling looks, Light has a hard time making any close relationships.

Origin Story: Coming from a different form of reality, or lack there of, Light is a toon living in the real world. Sure, she doesn't act too chaotic like what you see on the TV, but then unlike most cartoons Light has a good grasp on the concept that things in this reality don't follow the rules she knows. That doesn't mean she isn't up to jokes, comedy, or making friends, and her constant smile makes it out to be that she is perpetually in a good mood, even when dealing with villains! But sometimes she'll occasionally mumble about dark things, often in a light hearted or dismissive manner, but there might be something bad that happened prior to this toon lady coming to this reality.

[User]
A light slowly filtered through his eyelids to rouse him or maybe someone elicited some other stimulation to bring Jimmy back to consciousness. He was beginning to wake up but was not quite with it. He slowly became aware of being in a cage. There was something peculiar about the cage, its bars laced with copper wires and the presence of conductors, transistors and transformers. The cage was in a sense a Faraday Cage which prevented him from teleporting out of this current location. 'Whoever took me knows about my teleportation ability,' Jimmy thought to himself as consciousness rapidly returned to him. He became aware of a menacing headache throbbing across his forehead. Touching the bars in an attempt to check the strength of the bars, he caught a zap of electricity which prevented any future touching. 'Looks like I am stuck here for a while,' Jimmy looked around his prison. It was the back of a van. Even if he did get out of the cage, he did not know what could possibly be outside the van. He looked out the windows to see if anyone was around. He could not see people immediately, but he did ascertain he was in some sort of a parking garage which included several high-end performance cars, armored fighting vehicles, an assortment of normal looking cars parked in a traditional fashion as you would find in any parking lot in the world and a variety of rotary wing aircraft.

The presence of helicopters and armored personnel carriers struck him as odd, but that didn't answer the question plaguing his pained mind. "What the fuck, did you get yourself into, Jimmy?" he whispered to himself. Fortunately, for the Asian man also known as Iron Monkey, he didn't have long to wait to find the answer.

Within a half hour, the doors to the navy-blue van he was held captive in, were pulled open. The electricity charging his Faraday cage was turned off and the door to the cage opened allowing him access to the outside. Curiosity was slowly getting the better of him. He was annoyed that someone took him against his will, but if someone went through all this effort to get him here, he may as well hear him out. He slowly slid out of the cage and van standing in front of an African American man who could have been close to his own age. Jimmy considered jumping out of the garage into some known city in the world he had visited, but again his curiosity suggested he remain. The longer he stood there, it seemed his headache slowly dissipated. He also noticed others who had been captured and brought here to this parking garage waiting to hear what the man had to say.

"Recruits!" The black man shouted at him and the others, "Welcome to THE DEFIANCE PROJECT!"

Jimmy stood there looking confused at the man. He looked left and he looked right. He had never heard of such a thing. "What the fuck is the Defiance Project and where the hell am I?" Jimmy muttered almost inaudibly to his host. "And who the hell are these people," he asked motioning to the others in the garage with him. "And who are you?"

[Assistant]
The car ride had seemed longer than it actually was. Perhaps it had been the awkward silence between her and 'Suits' in the back seat that made it as such, or her anticipation of what more was to come. Alexanda was looking but not exactly seeing as she stared out the window for the majority of the trip, her mind on the project she had agreed to be involved in. This was how she had not noticed when the car came to a stop in an indoor vehicle bay. She took a glance at Suits, expecting him to confirm that it was where they were to alight. She was able to get a good look all around after stepping out of the car, her eyes widening slightly in astonishment as she did so.

The car she had arrived in was in a row with several other vehicles, each one opening to reveal a different individual. What puzzled and somewhat disturbed her was that all of them were restrained in one way or another. From what they were saying, it looked as if she was the only one who had not been brought to this place against her will. The restraints could also mean that all the others were dangerous. She turned to Suits, expressing her confusion at the entire situation. What kind of people would he be expecting her to work with?

She then instinctively tensed up, her fists glowing bright blue with psychic energy as the others were suddenly released from their restraints, in case any of them should lash out. To her relief, that did not happen, but they continued to verbally express their confusion and displeasure. She had been trying to shut them out, when one of the men in charge called out to them, mentioning the 'Defiance Project'.

"Uh... thank you," was all she said in reply. "So, how do we address you then?"

[User]
The Director glanced down subtly at the spit that had nearly landed on his boots. He was not phased by the obscenities echoing around the hangar from Wayne's mouth yet he took a mental note to keep an eye on this one. He may prove harder to control than initially expected.
As light stepped forward the guards behind King backpedalled and raised their weapons, obvious discomfort in their eyes.

"I am Director King!" He shouted confidently over the Profanity. "Some of you know who we are, some of you do not! I cannot tell you where you are, but I can tell you why you are here." He paused and Wayne finally quietened. "Alexandra Connolly, Jimmy Wu, Darla Winters, Wayne Geary, Light. For the past year we have been following your lives, your every move. Each one of you has a gift and I would see it put to use. Crime is on a rise, it has been for years now, but the police can no longer keep up. Twenty years ago my predecessor assembled the first team, five years ago the people you see before you were recruited. And now it is time for a new generation to step up and protect the world." He stopped and after a brief silence said, "You must have a lot of questions. Ask, and maybe you will get answers."

[Assistant] "Excuse me Mr. King," Jimmy sputtered out. Someone quickly corrected him, the African man should be addressed as Director King. "Pardon me, Director King. What exactly is The Defiance Project? Should I assume you expect us to be some sort of super hero to protect the world? Is that what we are talking about?" A sly smile creased Jimmy's lips. "What gift are you talking about?" Jimmy had always kept his abilities secret. No one knew him by his alias, Iron Monkey. He never shared that secret with anyone. 'There is no way this Director King knows about my special abilities,' Jimmy thought to himself. "If what you say is true about us, how could you possibly know anything? I can't speak for my other hostages here, but I for one don't have any gift. I might be slightly good at hand to hand combat, but that is about it. Anyone who pays attention to UFC, might know that."

[User]
Wayne finally stopped cursing long enough to listen to the other "recruits" respond to the big reveal. This "Director King" guy seemed pretty confident that they would all just line up and follow orders. He groaned. He could start to feel how hungry he was. How many hours had it been since he had been taken? And being put on ice didn't help either.

With the drop in temperature, he was finally able to focus his finger into a lockpick, and he easily opened his restraints and stepped out of the big ice truck. Immediately some of the agents pointed their weapons at him. He brushed some frost off of himself and rubbed his hands together, acting confident and unphased by the men who were armed and ready to out him down.

Looking around the hangar, he noticed helicopters and a few military vehicles. Obviously it was no joke, and they had some real funding. "So why haven't we ever heard of this project?" He asked Director King directly.

[Assistant]
Alexanda listened as 'Director King' spoke, finding the part about being in a super-powered crime-fighting team a repeat of what Suits had mentioned back in her apartment. It was nice of King to give them a little bit of history on their organization, however. When he offered to answer any questions, a couple of the... hostages? immediately spoke up, making inquiries that confirmed that they had not been briefed about the situation like she had, as if the rest of them being brought to this place in restraints was not confirmation enough. The director did mention names, but which name belonged to who was still a mystery.

She found herself hiding a smirk as one of them - a middle-aged man, attempted to put on an act about not having a 'gift'. Considering the circumstances, she knew he was hiding something, whatever it was. I've tried that with them before, Sir. Trust me, they know... The younger man, who appeared to be a shapeshifter of sorts, seemed like the most aggressive one, though, he eventually managed to compose himself and speak to King in a civilized manner. The blue fish-like girl, who was definitely the most intriguing of the lot, looked the happiest to be here.

Alexanda then decided to be the next one to ask a question. "So how often would we be meeting like this? Because, you know, civilian life is kind of important too."