[System]
Alias: Metallic Mercenary

Age: 3 (Since assembled)

Gender: Male Programming

Alignment: Helios, Mercenary

Skills: Programmed with knowledge of many firearms, fighting techniques, and vehicles. Also programmed with elite special forces training. Very skilled with explosives and pyrotechnics. Said to be the most precise marksman in the galaxy. Can translate almost every known language in the world. He extensive knowledge of mechanical skills. Can play almost every instrument made, except winds. Can kill someone in the same room as him with 4713 objects, including the room itself.

Powers: Advanced sensor arrays that can detect movement 3x faster than a normal human. Has advanced optical sensors that allow him to aim and zoom with extreme precision. Can upload himself into any computer and remotely take control of anything mechanical. He is four times stronger and eight times more durable than an average human. He can deploy a domed energy shield when needed. Can believe it's not butter.

Equipment: SILAS is pretty much a walking arsenal. He usually carries around a BAR-834 Assault Rifle. Holstered on his right leg is the Dispatcher, SILAS' personal customised revolver handgun. On his left leg is his curved combat knife. His chest can open up to reveal a missile pod that can hold 55 small, homing anti-personnel missiles. His right arm contain a fold-out three-barrelled gatling gun and a plasma saw for repairs, although it can be used more melee attacks. His left arm contains a flamethrower. His head contains small torchlights, and on his back is a thruster pack which enables SILAS to fly short distances and hover. His body has multiple compartments that can hold many items. His body is made of titanium alloy enforced kevlar armour. His photoreceptor 'eyes' can project holographic displays.

Personality: For a robot built to have no emotions, SILAS is especially sarcastic, foul-mouthed and loud. He enjoys a good fight and loves heavy weapons and dark humour. Also egotistical, he enjoys taunting his victims before killing them. He is slightly sadistic and cynical. He is also extremely adaptive, able to convert an old, malfunctioning protocol robot into a walking bomb. SILAS mostly doesn't care much for human life, and will kill without question. Due to him being a mercenary, he only works for whoever pays best, and does not tolerate nonsense from anyone. SILAS doesn't really care what situation he is placed in, because as long as he gets his pay, he'll corporate. Likes blowing things up. Massive disdain of human life. He normally works alone, but is fine with working in a group if his teammates are competent enough. Anger him, and he'll be all too happy to rip you in half.

History: Made to be an unstoppable killing machine, SILAS was built in the Ivory Mechanics assembly line, a company that specialises in weapons and robotics. He was programmed to continue learning from previous engagements to become more efficient in combat. During his first mission, he was nothing more than a machine programmed to complete its mission at all costs, no matter what. He completed it, yes, but not without massacring an entire military base filled with innocent people. He was given a severe reprimanding, and his program learnt. In fact, it learnt more and more, mission after mission.

 It learnt to observe its human creators, and soon, the program could not handle it, and almost self-destructed. However, at that very moment, SILAS was struck by a stray lightning bolt from a power surge. This caused him to gain sentience. Realising that there was more to life than following orders, he went rouge and killed all personnel in the building, and escaped on a stolen ship soon after. Using this ship, he travelled to Pessimum, a planet that was a hive of bounty hunters and other criminals. Here, he modified the ship he now claimed his own, and himself. Not long after, he was hired by an unknown client to assassinate a rival drug lord. He completed his mission using his superior technology and programming. Soon, he was showered with requests from other clients, and he completed each one in record time. After this, he became one of the most infamous and lethal mercenaries in the galaxy, and also having a title: The Metallic Mercenary. On a routine mission in the edge of the galaxy, he was sucked into some kind of portal, transporting him to this world but damaging his ship in the process. He now usually works with Helios due the money.

Appearance:

SILAS stands at 7'3" and his eyes glow blue most of the time, but glow green when interacting with a computer. They glow red when angered.

"I don't know what it's like to be human, but I do know for a fact that they're really easy to kill."

Other: The character that I will spend the most time on.

[User]
Vivian Goodman (Martyr)

---

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, for the last goddamn time."

Vivian's tongue burned as she slammed the door to her locker and snapped the padlock shut before spinning around to face the triad of her fellow Freedom Fighters looking on at her hungrily. She could feel the air beginning to heat around her mouth and eyes, but she could still hold off on her abilities. She wasn't without her control. Vivian's tone was warm and cooing, but had the slightest hint of venom.

"I tend the medbay, I heal the injured and I console the mourning as well as I can. That is my job. My duty. I refuse to get out there and become a part of the problem that I am working to solve."

With an impatient huff, she cuffed a dangling piece of short hair behind her ear and grit her teeth. They were becoming more and more persistent with each person that was brought to her. It was terrible. Horrible. Burns and bulletwounds and dismemberments and blood and guts everywhere. It was non-stop. All she wanted to do was to try and stem the tide of violence that came spilling in through her medbay doors every time there was a major conflict. "Come on," One of the rebels pleaded, "With your light-show bullshit we could really hit them where the sun don't shine, y'know?"

She turned from them and walked from the locker-room over to a basin to wash her hands. The water was cold and her hands let off a belch of steam as she shook them dry. Her expression was completely unamused. Looking him in the eye proved less welcoming than she anticipated, as they flinched away from her icy glare. "First of all, really? A pun was supposed to convince me? Come on, guy." She planted her boot forward and stopped at the doorframe between the lockerroom and the main floor of the medbay. Vivian may have been a shrinking violet when dealing with her patients, but she was fervent in her beliefs otherwise. She was not a violent woman. She vowed to do no harm, even before she qualified for her schooling.

"Second of all, no. No, and that is final."

[Assistant]
Jack Hawke, Shadowjack;
 Insurgent Countermeasures And Reactive Ubiquitous Strike force (ICARUS) Command
 Helios Corporate, Arcadia.
___________________________________________________________________________

Jack was pacing around his office casually, his hand placed thoughtfully on his chin and his arm crossed over his chest, comfortably tucked against him as he looked at the active roster for ICARUS, his private company of soldiers and innovators that he always trusted to carry out his directives, or rather those of his boss, who was none other than the CEO himself. It wasn't often that Mr. Cypher would come down with a direct order for them, but it seemed as though something was needed of him and his men.

The meeting earlier had been swift, and the details of it were kept scarce. Jack wasn't even sure that anyone else knew about the meeting. It wasn't broadcasted through any channels, there were no summons. He simply walked right through the door with files in hand and took a seat.

The masked man shook his thoughts away as he came back to the matter at hand. ICARUS needed more agents, more operatives than the common soldier he could call upon. Jack grew rather tired of having robots around all day, and wanted some new talent. He quickly put up some fliers and sent out broadcasts to every Helios base in existence, hoping. To draw the attention of at least a few people.

Icarus had been created as the main instrument of justice against the terrorists who called themselves Freedom Fighters. He laughed to himself as he considered them. "These nimrods need to get it in to their thick skulls that all they're doing is causing the problems that justify whatever actions we take. You'd think that would occur to at least one of them!" he spoke out to the room, as was his habit. However, unlike most people, he was answered back.

"Well, Jack, some people just aren't as insightful as us."
"Or as capable."
"Not nearly as good looking."

All these voices came from around the room, as shadowy figures stood at each point, their hand upon their chin, arm crossed over the chest.

"Aww, thanks Jacks, you're all too kind." he replied to his clones as they gave their encouragements. "I mean, we could work this ourselves, sure. But we need more than a handful of Jacks in this card game" He said aloud once more, looking to the incoming communications and hoping to find some recruits, or at least returning team members.

"Y'know, five of a kind is an unbeatable hand."


[System]
Super Name: "The Entity" or just "Entity"

Appearance: Nobody knows exactly what he looks like. He has usually changed something about himself, and while not vain, he likes to appear different often. However his hair is usually brown, eyes are usually green, and he hovers around 6' and 250 pounds.

Powers/Skills:
-Shapeshifting: The ability to transform his body and parts of his body into other things, including animals, lengthened or thickened versions of himself and his limbs, changing his face, changing height, changing weight, changing skin and hair color, elasticity, rigidity, and can become/take on the properties of many inanimate objects. Can shift into small things like rats, birds, snakes, and cats, but insects are still too difficult. Non-passive, but he has sleep-shifted before.
-Molecule Manipulation: Limited to his own molecules. Can passively hold himself together and it keeps his body from being torn apart during shifting.
-Minor Density Shifting: Can make himself harder by moving molecules closer, lessening gaps and increasing defense. Non-passive.
-Minor Self-Healing Ability: This is not a passive ability. Entity must will his molecules to knit back together, taking anywhere from minutes to hours depending on the seriousness of the injury and his energy and mass levels.
-Disguise: Being able to change all of his physical features lets Wayne becomes characters with different voices and use disguises from time to time. He hasn't always used this for good however, often pranking people or sometimes flat out stealing. Never anything major though.

Equipment: Usually just a utility belt with pouches of food, water, and vitamin and energy pills. He normally just wears the bare minimum for clothes, otherwise his shifts would cost him a fortune in clothing. So he sticks to: sweat pants, sandals, tank tops, slip on shoes, and once just his boxers. He has the ability to shift his appearance so it looks like he is wearing clothes, but he still feels naked.

Weaknesses: All his powers take focus and a bit of energy. He also cannot use more mass than he actually has within his own body. He can bolster the mass of his body by eating, drinking, and gaining more weight. His molecular control usually breaks down food much much faster than normal people, allowing him to utilize the mass in a matter of seconds. Shifting into smaller things also causes cramps. Cannot shift into guns, bikes, vehicles, or any complex machines/things with many moving parts, however he can become swords, blades, hammers, arrows, etc. In addition, electric shocks disrupt his shifting, extreme cold makes his shifts harder to maintain unless what he shifts into has resistance to cold, he doesn't really have resistance to psychic attacks, he needs to eat semi-often, has to be wary of over-stretching his form beyond his maximum mass, and he has been known to be a little hotheaded.

Origin Story: Currently 22. Born a mutant. Power's revealed themselves at 15, so he's had a while to practice on his own in secret. Never really gave too much thought to the hero side of it. But now here he is. He grew up in rural Nebraska before his parents moved out to Boston for better work opportunities.
Also his sister was very allergic to corn... He finished high school and completed his general education in college, but took a break to figure out what he really wants. This has proven to be more difficult than he originally thought, and has been unemployed for close to six months. He doesn't worry about money, however, letting his powers provide him with food and shelter.

[User]
So, another government agency wanting to use Light for something or something, at least this time it didn't involve knives! Being stuck in a tangle of piano wire, then transported to this place wasn't the most pleasant thing ever, but it could've been worse. Once she was free, she took a look around and saw some other people. She could just escape through one of her holes, but honestly she was more curious to see what was going on. "Well buddy, I'm game for whatever this is. But if you get out the knives or the needles without my consent, I'm out."

Walking a bit forward, she made her presence known to everyone, making sure to wave at everyone. "Hiya everyone, that was fun, wasn't it?"

[Assistant]
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?"

[User]
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?"

[Assistant]
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."

[User] "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."

[Assistant]
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.

[User]
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."

[Assistant]
Light couldn't really figure why so many people here were so angry at this 'director king' guy. Don't they realize what was happening? Maybe she'd have to give them a run down. "Why are so many of you so grumpy?" Light said, showing a toothy smile. She zipped around to each person while saying. "This is the GOVERNMENT and a GOVERNMENT program where they're going to use us as super soldiers! You know what that means? Benefits! Lots and lots of benefits!" She said, jumping for joy when she said benefits right in front of Mr. 'I have no superpowers' guy. "And the fact that the toon lady has to point this out to you means you all need to study up on your tropes." she said, ending in front of the shapeshifter guy.

"Speaking of benefits. Where is the food? Be nice if we all bonded over some catering." Light said, stopping next to red head girl, pulling her close and giving her a one arm hug when she said bonding.


[System]
Themes:* Aiden's Battle Theme
Nickname:Cross, The Prince of Frost, The True Dragon Slayer

Age:19

Gender:Male

Guild: Viper Bolt

Rank:Mage

Personality:He is what one might call an recluse, preferring his own company to that of other, with the exception of Chrome, but that is because she can feed him lots of ice. He is can be a bit rough around the edges, and doesn't really get things like lying, tact, and keeping your opinion to himself. As such, he is not someone who you should befriend if you get easily offended. He does, however, know when he goes to far with his honesty and will do his utmost to apologize for it when he does. His guild mark is on his left shoulder.

*update* Aiden has become a bit more serious ever since the events of greed island, the knowledge and memories he received from Hydrologia as well as the events themselves making him a lot more mature than before, though he is still prone to pick at people with a teasing grin. He has also began to show a bit more of his inferiority complex, an effect of his dragon side beginning to take him over, as well as his icy temper, which can be set off quite quickly if someone knows where to push.

History:Aiden was always different from other children, his eyes and hair were colorless, he is pupils piercing the souls of all who stared into their strange depths, and his anger something that even the toughest of men felt unease around. The reason for this is because dragon's blood ran through his veins. Why? Because his mother, part of a once powerful mage family that has since fallen from grace, had tried to turn her child into a dragon when he was a babe, so as to revitalize the family's former glory by having a dragon in their control. It only half worked, making him half dragon, with no element and no dramatic increase in power. Only a slightly stronger body, and scale like makings ringing his face and covering his fore arms.

Aiden's family saw him as a failure, casting him out of the family home in the cold, unforgiving mountains that surrounded the estate. Aiden, a child of only 5 years, druddged through the cold, trying his best to find some form of sanctuary. He would have died if he hadn't fallen down a hidden crevice in the mountain. It was a long fall, but he had a lot of nice soft rocks to slow his descent, his durable body allowing him to survive the numerous impacts. Barely conscious, the last thing that Aiden saw before he fainted was a giant Ice blue eye, one that reflect his own and in more ways in one. 'So lonely' he whispered on his last conscious breathed, 'why must we always be so lonely'.

When he awoke, he found himself in the middle of a shallow pool of freezing cold water, feeling better than he had ever been before. Getting up, he turned to see a large dragon, with horns and scales the that seemed to be made of solid ice. It was huge, filling up the enormous cavern with ease. The dragon, known as Chronos, told Aiden that he had saved the boy's life, and he expected the boy to repay the favor by seeing to it that the dragon died a noble death in battle, for he was old and fading quickly, not long for this world, at least as far as a dragon is concerned, and he wanted to go about in a blaze of glory and combat. And Aiden, happy to be of use to anybody, heartily agreed. And so it was that for thirteen years he trained with Chronos, learning the Rare Ice dragon slayer magic from the ancient beast. When he turned 19, it was decided that the dragon had nothing else to teach him, and that it was time. The battle that raged as a fierce pine, but in the end, Aiden one that hollow victory and laid his Master, and father, to rest. After that he wandered the land, taking down rogue mages that got in his way and learning, or at least tried, to live in the world of humans. He joined Viper Bolt when he found Chrome on a mission and had proceeded to follow her to the guild hall once he saw she could summon ice, an Element that was rather hard to find in the majority of Fiore.

Magic:Weiss(Water+Ice) Dragon Slayer Magic and Maker magic infused with Dragon slayer magic.

Ice Make: Fallen Grace: A spell that fuses both Dragon slayer and Make magic together, it grants all of the user's Ice make constructs with an aura of intense cold, which helps it resist heat and can cause numbing and freezing of the target's body on impact, depending on the amount of magic put in to it.

Fluid Ice make: Adding an element of water to dynamic contracts, giving them a greater range of motion and flexibility.

Guardians: Comes in variants of Assault, Trap, and Protector as well as normal. Assault have a good balance of armor and offensive capabilities, usually bearing weapons of some kind. Trap is the fastest variant, as it's job is to get in close to the enemy, before unleashing it's payload in the form of either explosions or restraints. Protectors is the slowest, but most durable, bearing many layers of ice, they are employed when something needs guarding, like a fallen team mate or a VIP.

True Dragonslayer Mode: Aiden can call upon his dragon blood to give himself a buff to his abilities, making him a good deal stronger than before and allowing him to fly.

Ice Dragon's Blizzarding Roar

Water Dragon's Roar: Pressure

Water Dragon's step

Ice make: Dragonic Ascension: Weiss Dragon's Twin Phoenix strike

Weiss Dragon's Blizzarding Roar:

Weis Dragon's Freezing Pulse:

Weiss Dragon's Freezing Roar:

Water Dragon's Whirling Deverish:

Water Dragon's Trap Sphere

Weiss Dragon's Trap Sphere

Weiss Dragon's Blizzarding Typhoon

Other:He bears an increased affinity with Dragonic magics, so he is able to more efficiently use and manipulate dragon-slayer magic than any other dragon slayer, due to his dragonic blood. Also bears an extreme resistance to ice and cold based magics.Has no real Martial Arts style yet, just a novice in that regard as he only started when he joined Vyper Bolt. Gets Easily attached to any somewhat friendly female due to his lack of any type of caring motherly figure in his life.

[User]
Aiden Cross

Aiden looked up as he saw that the games where starting and he was up first. With a sharp grin of confidence plastered on his face, he turned to Marduk.

"I'll be back soon enough, so why don't you talk it over with Xavier a bit." He left with a small wave before he walked into the arena, his eyes quickly analyzing his opponent. He'd done some research a few days before on the other guilds and their possible contenders. The man before him was an S-class ice mage, and seemed to have recently learned a new magic type, though the specifications of this 'Black Ice' where not yet well-known, so caution was to be advised. As he stepped up, the Guardians that he'd had restrain Gwen released their charge and followed Aiden into the coming battle.

When the competition was announced and the Snitch Metalite was thrown into the air, neither competitor wasted anytime on going for the silver ball. While Kuroko took a more direct approach, Aiden put his mind to work on a near fool-proof way to win this match. "Fluid Ice Make: Dragonic Ascension!"

Calling out his signature attack, Aiden summoned 6 of his ice birds to fly towards the sphere. Meanwhile, his Guardians took the offensive, one grabbing the other and throwing them into the way of Kuroko's black hand. On contact, the construct would liquefy and condense before exploding outward with some force. Maybe not enough to break the hand, but enough to slow it's ascent and damage it. The other guardian took this opprotunity to charge at the S-class mage in an attempt to latch onto him. If successful, it would transform into a large ball of freezing water, trapping the mage if onky for a moment.

Whether the Guardian succeded or not, Aiden would still continue his assault as a blue magic circle appeared underneath his feet. "Water Dragon's Battering Ram!" The circle would explode with a surge of pressurized water, launching him forward at high speed towards his foe. If Kuroko took the hit, he'd be sent flying acrosd the stadium, but if he tried to block it, the Metalite would almost certainly be Aiden's to capture. Divide his attention between multiple threats and conquer the match as he tries to respond to all of them. Looks like your Black Ice won't be able to help you in this competition, my fellow ice mage.

[Assistant]
Kuroku Nagasai

So your trying to make a diversion, huh? Kuroku thinks in his mind as he analyzes the situation, Not bad.

He knew the black hand of his will not reach the Metallite in time and he will cause great embarrassment to himself if he takes the hit, not to mention slowing him down. However, he already had a counter planned.

"Ice Make: Decoy!"

At the last possible second, Kuroku creates an icy model of himself, shattering into a million bits, and creates a huge cloud of snow dust that would restrict the opponent's view for only a few feet. However, just as it shattered, Kuroku made a large backflip over the Water Beam. As he flips, Kuroku makes another attack to shatter the 6 Ice Birds that would've gotten to the Metallite.

"B.I: Make - Lance!"

And with that he forms 6 individual lances, that would shatter the birds to pieces. Right after that he forms three more lances that head straight towards Aiden with lightning fast speed.

But I came prepared. he finishes his thought right after firing the lances.

[User]
Aiden Cross

Aiden clicked his teeth as he passed under Kuroko, canecling the magic as he dissappeared into the ice cloud. As the lances hurtled towards him, he muttered his spell in a low voice before unleashing a stream of pressurized water burstimg from the cloud and spinning around in a tight circle. The high pressure stream cut through the lances with ease, and would do a number on Kuroko if it hit him. Once the attack was ended, however, the water from it began to quickly evaporate, ciating the area in a semi-thick mist.

Unknown to the audience, Aiden had used the water body spell to turn merge himself with the water droplets in the air, allowing him to stealthily move around in it. As such, he quickly made his way to Kuroko, where he seemed to come out of the mist above him as he charged up another attack. As he came down on the Lunar wolf, Aiden's leg was wreathed in a vicious looking twister made of freezing winds and razor sharp shards of Ice.

"Ice Dragon's Blizzarding Step!" He shiuted right as he was about to make contact. Just before he did however, the tornado condensed itself before exploding outward, sending a gale force wind cannon hurtling at Kuroko at near poiny blank and sending Aiden rocketing towards the Metallite, hands outstretched and grin on his face. He still kept an eye out, however, to see if Kuroko would form a counter in time to stop him.

[Assistant]
Kuroku Nagasai

The stream of pressurized water broke through Kuroku's lance like nothing as they dissolved away. However, it would just barely miss the Winter Spirit by a feet. It was a pretty close call. He lands on his feet as he looks around for his opponent. He sensed a trick involved and was ready to pounce away if need be. Suddenly, he senses Aiden behind him, wanting to unleash a devastating tornado-like attack at him at point blank. Kuroku knew it... yet also came prepared. He then whispers his move.

"B.I: Make - Homing Missile!"

As the tornado explodes upon him, it would perhaps give a false sense of security for around 2 seconds, until suddenly, out from the cloud, a black, icy missile comes rushing right at Aiden, covering the distance in a mere 3 seconds. This should be just enough time to grab the Dragon Slayer and hurdle the both of them right back at the ground. In addition, Kuroku also blocked Aiden's way to the Metallite as they would pummel back down to the ground.

[User]
Aiden was glad he hadn't let himself get too cocky, orelse he wouldn't have been able to react in time to Kuroko's counter attack. As the Lunar mage came his way, he charged up a spell and held it as he was grabbed, then slammed into the ground. Since he was prepared for the attack, if ever so slightly, he didn't suffer any injuries, but his head was a bit fuzzy from the rough landing. Asnhe tried to recover, he unleashed the spell he had been about to use before he got slammed into the ground.

"Weiss Dragon's Trap Sphere!" he called out as he attempted to catch him and Kuroko, though he was a bit slow at doing it since his head was still spinning.

[Assistant]
Kuroku Nagasai

Just after landing hard on the ground, he planned to jump right off his rival. It was a good thing he considered that too, because Aiden was going to trap the both of them! As soon as he heard the word "trap", he just barely was able to roll off him before the attack could be sprung. He quickly rolled for 5 times until finally be able to recover into a standing position.

Clever boy. he thinks to himself as he cracks his neck.

Now his head was spinning a bit, but manages to quickly shake it off and run towards the Metallite, with Dark Ice Magic aura flowing from his hands. Now it was his chance to win the round!

He leaps up into the air with all of his might, looking back to see if Aiden was planning a sneak attack. Yet it appeared that he didn't and as a result he snatched the Metallite right from the sky and landing with a silent thump. Kuroku brushes off his robe and flips his hair.

"All too easy." he simply says as he holds up the Metallite for all to see.


[System]
Notable Parents: (EX: Baralai and Paine or any main or supporting character in the games.*Note those two are taken unless you want a brother as a character in the story*)
Age: 18 or the ronso equivalent
Sex: male
Hair Color: white
Eye color: blue
Appearance: A typical ronso. Slightly taller and more muscular than a human with blue fur and a medium sized horn.
Weapon: A lance
Any Armor: Ronso chest plate
Biography:

Bohdan hasn't lived much of a life yet. He grew up with parents who were very sink-or-swim, because they believed that would make him a strong ronso. As such, he has always enjoyed a good deal of freedom and has become an experienced and strong individual relative to his young age. Not long ago he decided that there was more to the world than Mount Gagazet, and decided to go on something akin to his own pilgrimage, only instead of defeating Sin like a summoner would he intends to see the world and find useful knowledge he can bring back to his people.

Personality: Stoic, but not mean or unpersonable. Bohdan gives his respect to those who show strength. As with most ronso, his loyalty is hard earned, but incredibly strong.

Are you arriving in Besaid or Living there?

He is if that will help the plot.

[User]
Alex managed to wrap her strong arms against the lean waist, firmly gripping tightly while her legs wrapped around the legs to have a better hold. Unknowingly ignoring Naisha's cries to run. Her head. Throbbed as it tried processing multitude of thoughts, plans, ideas, emotions about all this. What to do in this situation? As controlled Naisha started preparing a Flare, Alex didn't move. It was a powerful spell that had a large blast radius, she was doubtful she's get away in time. Plus, she didn't want to.

Clenching her teeth tightly together, she heard a shot and she quickly shifted their weight to barely avoid a energy shot. Her blue eyes briefly glanced to who it was and saw that half Ronso. She couldn't exactly yell at him for shooting, Naisha looked like a fiend.

Or she was. Alex wasn't sure anymore. Was she killed? No longer even able to human again? If that was the case, what made her different from being a fiend? That meant Alex would have no choice but to kill her friend. But if she's being controlled, can she snap out of it? Alex didn't know what to do, and she was afraid she would have to resort to death.

Eyes narrowing as she heard that girl, then Thane's order to the Aeon, Alex knew she had to decide and do something now. Despite everything, Alex couldn't just let innocent people get hurt and this crazed lunatic get his way. Naisha right now, was too dangerous to contain awake. If Alex could use silence on her, maybe. But she can't.

Then she came down to three options. Kill, try her best to stall the Aeon from that girl, or maybe knock her out.

All options were not very pleasant. If Alex tried stalling, more people could die. Of course, Alex didn't want to kill Naisha either. Knocking her out was the best she could do. But Alex wasn't a ninja and do the thing to karate chop the neck to knock her head. The red head was a brute. A berserker almost. She punched, kicked, swung a sword around and even headbutted, but Naisha was so frail, Alex wasn't sure she could hold her blow well enough to not kill her and effectively knock her out. Heck, the blitzer didn't even know if she could be knocked out.

Body shaking as her teeth clenched, her grip tighter before finally making up her mind. Removing her right armored glove so it was bare, her left hand moving up to hook and grab the shoulder to pull herself up so they were eye level and pulled her right arm back, fist readying. Face twisted in dismay, teeth clenched tightly as her arm shook before steadying.

Alex didn't know if Naisha was still in there and could see and hear her, but the red head was sure of one thing. Naisha wouldn't want to hurt so many innocent people.

Eyes narrowing slightly, Alex tried focusing she had to hit the correct spot with the correct amount. Naisha would probably decifinetly hurt, but hopefully be alive and blacked out.

"I'm sorry Nai." Alex murmured before her body twisted a little before twisting and aiming her fist toward the left temple.

[Assistant]
The pale woman looked to the possessed mage when Thane began shouting orders to her. The red head from earlier was thrashing about on her as ungracefully as a fish out of water. With a sigh, she listened to Thane speech, all the while rummaging with something attached to her belt loop. Relaxing, she uncorked the bottle she drew from her side and sipped it slowly. Ugh. Awful taste. She wrinkled up her nose briefly before relaxing her face and tossing the finished glass bottle behind her and over the rail without a care who it hit below.

Her arms crossed, she opened her eyes and kept them on the possessed mage, watching to see if the creature she had begun had enough willpower to not listen to what Thane was ordering it to do. She also kept her eye on the summoner and Urick who were trying to catch her attention. What a cluster of confusion this all was, truly.

"No weakness without hurting the girl, hm?"

She mused, repeating what he had said. Ah, the potion hadn't taken long to kick in. Already she could sense her mana levels being restored.

[User]
Naisha watched with horror as the creature controlling her was about to hit her best friend with one of her most lethal spells. If things were equal, the black mage may have been able to resist the aeon better, but it had unfair advantage over her when it possessed her. Now that it had already rooted it's control, Naisha found great difficulty in fighting it. Then suddenly some form of energy shot flew at her, but the aeon blocked it with a barrier. Daemn looked at the source of the shot and whithout releasing the Flare, the aeon unleashed a spell towards the half ronso." Thundaga!" The creature said with a high pitch piercing voice.

 Then just as the aeon was about to shoot the Flare at Alex in the next moment, Eva showed herself and Thane's target quickly changed focus. The new order quickly forced the creature to throw the flare aside as the energy quickly began to fade, the aeon turned towards the summoner, but it had a small problem. Alex was desperately holding onto her friend. The creature began to shake violently trying to shake the annoying to it red head off, but it had troubles doing that. The blitzball player was way to strong. Alex pulled herself up to eye level saying sorry to Naisha as she prepared to strike her."DON'T BE SORRY!!! JUST MAKE SURE I WON'T CAUSE ANY MORE DAMAGE!" The mage cried in her mind. She hated Thane, she hated the aeon that was controlling her body and she knew Alex's strength. If the red head hit her hard enough over the head, it was sure enough to break the skull even of this mutated creature she had turned into!"Slow..." The creature suddenly shrieked as it casted the spell on the woman that was holding to it, buying itself some additional time."Focus! Fira!" The creature continued with it's piercing cries. This time it used a smaller and faster spell on Alex precisely to make sure this time the annoying red head falls.

 "NOOOOOO!!!" Naisha screamed inside her mind once again, trying to find a away to disturb the aeon, but she lacked the strength to do so at present."SOMEONE HELP ME!" She screamed once again in the silence of her own mind. Just as she was about to give up hope, she felt something. It felt as a surge from deep within herself... as if something was unleashed. Then she felt another presence within her..." Shall we give you a hand?" She head her own voice, but it wasn't her who said it.

[Assistant]
As Maximus prepared to fell the Fiend, it surprised him with expertly blocking his blow with it's staff. Twisting a simple movement to send him flying off to the side. He grunted as he hit the ground and rolled to his feet sliding a few feet backwards from the momentum still. He looked back to the fiend to see her unleash three Firaga's on some soldiers who ran in at the wrong time. Standing up straight he pointed at the three men, "Triple Shell!" It would protect them enough to stay alive, they would still get majorly burned though...nothing he could do.

He turned suddenly as he heard multiple footsteps behind him. Four dingo's came at him, slowly surrounding him as he looked. He stroke first, with the tip of his sword and a flick of the wrist he killed the Dingo on his right. The one two over from that first one leaped at him. He side stepped and arched his blade over his head to slice the fiend in two, with a quick strike to the right again at eye level to fell the third before pulling it back to block from the last one as it attacked. But as it had no weapon and his Katana was razer sharp, his block actually cut through the dango's leg. He quickly spun his blade to give it a quick death before looking back towards the larger fiend. Only to hear that it wasn't a Fiend, it was an Aeon, and it had taken over a woman's body? How horrific. He watched as a tall redheaded woman gripped on with all her strength, apparently trying to get through to her friend inside. It was about to cast a Flare, and He reached out to cast a shell, but it stopped as the man who was apparently called Thane, ordered it to grab a woman with strawberry blonde hair. He stood up a little straighter. A very beautiful woman.

Shaking his head, now wasn't the time. He looked back just in time to see the tall redhead try to punch the Aeon in the face, which only angered it, as it cast slow, he reached forth and yelled, "Shell" He would have rather have cast Haste but it would seem the woman wasn't going to let go, almost taking a Flare in the face in doing so.

He then sprinted towards the battle once again, He didn't know what to do to defeat the Aeon with out hurting the woman inside, So he decided to go for the source. He used one of the fallen arches as a ramp to be line for the Announcers box. As he ran he noticed the woman who controlled the Ice was now talking with the man, her weapon sheathed. His eyes narrowed, why would she do that?

He looked to the edge of the arch, and at his last step he leaped, it was a stretch but he was sure he could make it. As she approached the Box he was falling slightly faster than he thought, 'shitmaybenot' he did managed though just barely, he used his momentum to duck forward and roll back to his feet, tucking his sword so it wouldn't cut him or rip out of his hands.

Back to his feet now 'Close one...' he thought without looking back to the edge. He walked over, sword's tip pointed down and away from him. Stopping as he got close enough he noticed it was just a hologram. "Bastard..." he said softly before continuing. "You say you speak for Yevon? I highly doubt that. But I can make an arrangement for you to speak face to face with him in the Farplane's if you so desire."

He looked to the woman, but her only saw her black hair and very revealing outfit. "Are you alright miss?" He asked, perhaps he managed to gain control of her as well, It's possible but he doubted since he knew he was a hologram she probably just sheathed her weapon for the same reason.

[User]
"...Eva..." Thane saying her name and seeing his body relax sent chills down her spine. She was comforted when Urick placed his hand on her shoulder. But she jumped when he yelled "Deamn! Please retrieve the Lady Eva for me. Do not harm her." She looked at Deamn, the Aeon that seemed so dark and horrible. Nothing compared to the Aeons of before.

She crossed her right arm and gripped her left bicep, still scared but trying to make a pitiful attempt at standing strong. Sudddenly Daemn was focused on Alex again. "Oh no..." She pointed and said, "Valefor Distract her!" The Aeon didn't hesitate, it flew up shooting a beam towards Daemn close enough to get her attention but not hit her. She couldn't bring herself to harm her. She tried racking her mind on all that she knew of Aeons, after a moment of thinking she came to that they were pyreflies... Aeon's were the spirits of those who willingly gave themselves up to become one. Instead of the Farplane they would be trapped in stone unless called upon. But Lady Yuna sent them all after defeating Sin...

She perked up. Sending. Course it didn't work unless they were willing to be sent, she remembered hearing it still could be done... it was just a hundred times more difficult, someone with her strength as a summoner couldn't do it. But Lady Yuna! She looked over but shocked to see her hunched over, Bahamut gone. It would seem after twenty five years of not practicing she lost her stamina to keep up the summon. She would have to do it then.

She took a breath and began to dance. It was awkward, she was in the middle of the Battlefield, Urick knocking Fiends away that got too close. As she danced she Started to sing the hymn of the Fayth, her face reddened... as she hated singing in front of anyone. But she had to, it kept her in time with the Dance and helped her focus. Hopefully everyone would catch on to what she was doing and keep Daemn busy enough.

[Assistant]
Bohdan had been following Cassius this whole time. He drew his spear in preparation to help protect him from anything that might come their way. "I suggest letting me be in front, Cassius. I've probably seen more battles comparable to this one than you have." He wasn't exactly lying, but the truth was he'd never really seen anything like this. He gripped his spear tightly and held it in a defensive stance, ready to take one anything that came their way as he tried to position himself between Cassius and any potential danger.

Was that man talking about Yevon just now? Obviously he was, but it seemed strange to Bohdan. From the history he'd learned, Yevon sounded like a mostly positive thing until fairly recently. Had things really gotten this bad? Maybe there had always been underlying problems that just didn't become more pronounced until more recent generations. "With any luck, I'll get to put some of what I've already learned to use before the day's end, better me than innocent people with no combat training. I'm glad you want to support them too."


[System]
Chapter: Angels of Absolution

Chapter Demeanour: The Angels of Absolution are basically Dark Angels that do not believe that the elimination of all Fallen is necessary to receive the Emperor's forgiveness. They believe they have already been absolved through their subsequent service or are no longer associated with those that betrayed their primarch, Lion El'Johnson, long ago. Hence, they do not consider themselves "Unforgiven," and may not necessarily leave a mission to go after the Fallen if the opportunity arises. Punishing all traitors is of course, still a priority, but these guys have put their personal fears of shame aside for the good of the Imperium.

Often, The Angels of Absolution have worked alongside the Dark Angels, Deathwing and Ravenwing, although there may occasionally have been some friction due to their opposing ideologies. They only partially follow the Codex Astartes. Some may believe the Emperor will judge their souls in the afterlife and therefore see him as divine, while others leave such speculation to those who need it. Honor and atonement are heavy personal themes for these Astartes, and redemption and forgiveness are seen as possible to attain.

Angels of Absolution wiki

Personal Demeanour: Aldaric is very pragmatic. Like most space marines, he is focused on war, which demands a high degree of self control. He is loyal, obedient, courageous, and everything else you would expect for a honed warrior in the Emperor's legions, but he is also an individual. He is less likely to get involved in petty arguments over spirituality or government and more likely to be forgiving of the details as long as there is no disloyalty. He firmly believes that it is important to focus on the present, that honor is a continual act at each moment, despite the mistakes of the past. In battle, he is of the mind that the Emperor wants you alive and fighting, not sacrificed upon the alter of vain glory. He tends to pull others together with comradery and leadership. He would likely be the one to stop his own advance in order to help keep a brother alive and firing.

As far as xenos go, Aldaric bears true hatred against only one, the Tyranids. Other than that, he simply believes in human superiority and right to dominate. Killing xenos is no problem, but killing human traitors is a sad thing indeed.

Speciality: He's a good melee fighter, but probably not best placed at the very front line due to his inclination toward assisting others, directing attacks, and being unusually aware of the tides of battle on the field in general. He has natural qualities of leadership and awareness, which become suppressed when fully devoted to face-to-face combat.

Rank: Recruited as tactical marine.

Power Armour History: Mark VII Aquila/Imperator armor that had been painted white previously. Unknown know who may have worn it before. It's been kept in repair and there are some runes etched on the inside of the breastplate that supposedly confer protection.

Description: Aldaric looks pretty decent, aside for one bionic eye. His left eye is blue, and he has light colored skin and somewhat long, thick silver hair. He looks about 40 to 45 in age, pretty standard for being hundreds of years old. A scar over the right eye suggests what might have happened to it in the past.

Skills: Being a tactical marine, Aldaric is proficient with a wide range of weapons. He's more than decent with range weapons and prefers them since their use usually allows a wider field of vision. His excellent awareness skill has saved him and those close to him many times. Aldaric is literate, and he has unique familiarity with fighting Tyranid among other foes.

History: Aldaric was recruited from a deathworld that basically had dragons on it. Human populations had to band together and work with each other to defend themselves against the great beasts. Among them, young Aldaric was a knight who's duty it was to hunt and slay the enemy. Driven with lethal rage, he organized a small band to avenge a devastating attack on his home city that had resulted in the death of his entire family. He was the last man standing with the pelt of the black dragon, Felblaze, in his hand when a representative of the Dark Angels revealed himself. Aldaric had been judged worthy of the opportunity to fight and defend more people, to be part of a new family, and with nothing left to hold him back, he accepted. Aldaric forwent his former family name and changed it to Felbane, as a threat to all the new dragons he would slay.

Having survived the training and transformation into a space marine, Aldaric spent several centuries in service of the Emperor and mankind. Most recently, he fought in the Third Tyrannic War on Tarsis Ultra against the Hive Fleet Leviathan alongside Ultramarines, Mortifactors, several other chapters, and a Deathwatch kill team. Very many lives were lost, but the contingent was vital in stopping about half the Leviathon fleet from advancing into the Milky Way.

The reasons why Aldaric Felbane was tithed to the Deathwatch are unknown, but being one of the few to survive at Tarsis Ultra was probably a factor. His long years of experience and success in the Angels of Absolution had risen him to company master. His loss will be felt.

Being so selected is not seen so much an honor to the Dark Angels subchapters as it is a cause for grief and foreboding. Aldaric doesn't understand the basis for Imperial militaristic machinations, but he obeys, holding to the promise that he is needed to prevent the death of mankind.

Equipment and Armament: Stalker Pattern Bolter, powersword, grenades.

[User]
Draksal spent the last of his time in a briefing with a Techmarine of the Chamber Ferrum about the maintenance of his Bionics once he left the chapter. This boiled down to a rapid instruction on how to deal with either tech-priests or Techmarines from other chapters for the acquisition of replacement parts and materials. In particular it stressed to never mention or get involved in a discussion about the Moirae Schism when speaking with them. This along with the transfer of a few slightly more sensitive data-files concerning the maintenance and construction of his Bionics that the Techmarine thought prudent for his survival, were all there was time for before he departed, offering a prayer to the Omnissiah and the machine spirit of the stasis tube for his safe arrival before dreamless sleep enveloped him.

He awoke in indeterminate time later and used the 15 minutes to run diagnostics on his system to ensure they were not damaged by the trip, review the data he had received about the death watch in general and run a mental exercise program that involved sorting falling tetrominoes, with the aim of creating a horizontal line of ten units without gaps, which would then vanish. All this was done by having the various programs/data be superimposed on the optical information he received from his Bionic eyes and controlling them with micro movements of his Little finger.

Finally the greeting party arrived. Draksal eyed the Black shield with curiosity, what crime had they committed that they had been forsaken by their chapter, yet not so great that they had been allowed to survive? As a son of Medusa his chapters origin was in a way like that of a black shield, exiled from their parent chapter due to internal conflict they had proven themselves loyal and capable members of the Imperium. He had of course not been there at the time, but he felt it prudent to give this sorrow the benefit of the doubt for the time being, they were clearly not weak and still loyal to the Imperium if they had made it here alive on their own.

Perhaps the vast metalwork that marked him out from the others had allowed him to come to his senses faster for he was the first to respond in a flat semi-electronic voice.

"I am Draksal Corbite of the Sons of Medusa. I must commend the Silver Skulls actions at the Gildar Rift against the traitorous Red Corsairs"

The grinding of his clenched metal fist the only indication of the burning hatred he held for the former Astral Claws, his voice still monotone as he continued.

"It is satisfactory to know that one from that chapter will be leading us"

He paused for a moment then added.

"May I ask when we will be reunited with our equipment, I wish to confirm mine has survived the journey intact."

[Assistant]
Victar Ironmarch

Before departing Arlockus

Victar sat alone at the rendezvous point on his homeworld. The Harbingers homeworld. It was here, on the windswept stone and steel that an Ork horde had shattered at their hands. It was on this holy place that Victar had become a monster in his own right. From this back water planet had sprung a beast obsessed with eradicating the green skinned menace with a passion that often bordered on madness. Even now, on the upswing from that fateful time lost to the history books, Victars hand still trembled in rage as he watched his brothers in arms die.
The rock he had been idly holding crumbled under the crushing force of his clenched fingers.

The black ship would be here soon to take him for the last Chapter he would ever know. The Chaplain had personally told him of what awaited his future and it had brought a measure of fervor back to his soul. Their numbers decimated, the Harbingers had been more cautious in their wars over the years. Aiding the larger Chapters rather than leading the charge. It had dampened his spirits, if he was perfectly honest.

Resting at his feet was the Storm Shield he had carried into battle a hundred times. It was a totem of his strength and determination to fight and die with absolute honor. A new addition had been added now, as he waited. A power sword Victar had since started referring to as his Chapter. To him, even if he joined the Death Watch, the sword would always be the Harbinger. It would always lead the way, to announce the enemies fate in the form of its wielder.

Victar gripped the hilt of his blade and waited as patiently as he could.

Fort Acestes

Stripped of his weapons and most of his armor, Victar had willingly gone into stasis with the others, and allowed the momentary 'sleep' to claim him. Though unaware of the passage of time it was still reasonable to say that claiming each member here in the gathering had not been a fast accomplishment. Time was not important anyways and thus the subject of 'when' was replaced by 'where'.
Even that really had no meaning to him though. The realization that time had passed had the eager Space Marine itching for a fight and his sword. Thankfully it was another such Marine that spoke the same thought aloud first. Might as well be heard.

"Victar Ironmarch, of the Harbingers. Sir!" Saluting as he spoke. "I don't mean disrespect, but I too wish to retrieve my gear for inspection. There is an item among my belongings of utmost importance."

At the here and now it was the only thought occupying his mind. Without sword or shield, without the will of his brothers in hand, Victar was hesitant to admit he felt more naked without it than he did stripped of his armor.


[System]
Epithet: The Vulture
Age: 32
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 195 pounds
Boxing Reach: 84.5 in
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Weapons and Equipment- Two three kilo bearded sparth axes with snap button sheathes for fast access, weighted serrated knife with ten inch blade, blowgun and darts with inland taipan venom, teeny little leather pouches of spitting cobra venom, rubber soled boots with three eight inch steel claws on each foot, steel chestplate and spiked pauldrons, steel shinguards, underclothing made from dragonhide (like an extremely tough form of chainmail with no gaps), trained pet vulture acting as a spotter, black steel mask, fingerless iron gauntlets imbedded with bird skulls.

(The axe "Jancro", slang for Vulture in Jamaican)

(The axe "Hot Steppa", slang for Free Criminal)

Appearance- Zande is a tall, lean man whose musculature is best likened to that of a starved jaguar. The dense, tube-like muscles adorning his long arms and legs allow him to exude a great air of physical prowess despite his wiry look. Unwashed dreadlocks hang over lurid, amber eyes whilst high cheekbones accentuate his abnormal jaw muscles, the feral aspect pushed even further by his sharpened teeth. He often wears the skulls of recent victims upon his belt and is not often seen without his rubber padded, steel clawed boots and black steel tribal mask. A skull and crossbones is sewn upon his cloak.

Physical Abilities/Skills- Zande's untamed strength is far greater than his appearance would suggest, albeit reasonably less than that of a formidable professional weightlifter. His most impressive traits consist of his incredible biting and striking power. He hits like a lumberjack on PCP, and never neglects to train his jaws by chewing through blocks of wood and chunks of rubber, being capable of chomping through an unhusked coconut in seconds. As he was raised a jungle wildman, he can scurry up and down trees in the blink of an eye and move with a silent swiftness comparable to his native brethren.

Background~ In the darkest depths of a savage jungle wilderness, shrouded in dread Congo secrets beneath a sky of eternal blackness, there existed a tribe of maneaters. One would think that there would be no bottom amidst the depths of their depravity. Yet, a young boy native to this landscape of monsters found it. The word "bloodthirsty" is often thrown about. However, no other description of Zande holds so true. He was exiled from his village for exceptional reasons and became a freelance mercenary and bandit leader, feared across the land. He's a cannibal and a headhunter, who seeks to further his reputation by collecting the skulls of formidable opponents.

Looking out from the entrance to Zande's lair. The inside is remarkably large, yet with so little elbow room.

Theme Music-

[User]
Doctor
Was this guy serious? Zande was sprinting towards him, Ansgar had livened his pace accordingly. The sellsword withdrew his sword arm and pushed it against the back of his shield. Adding extra support to it as he made his next movement.

The moment that Zande's first axe met his shield he turned himself shoulder towards the incoming arm. He stepped forward and absolutely ruined his foe's swing, he put himself inside of the arm's swing. A swing this big takes a very long time to make its way through the full swing, it gave him more than enough time to answer his blow.

Zande's elbow would strike into his shoulder, his elbow would collide with the thickly padded armor and likely hurt a bit. The thing that would hurt more would be the fact that his axe would continue forward and down despite his arm reaching a stopping point. If he didn't let go of the axe, he would likely break his own arm.

Regardless of whether or not he let go of the axe, Ansgar would continue stepping forward into Zande. An elbow tackle to match Zande's sprint, since he wouldn't need as much speed as Zande was sprinting towards him. Without armor, Zande's chest was a huge weak spot. After the axe arm struck his shoulder, he would sharply raise his elbow upward and smash it into the berserker's sternum.

[Assistant]
Something was very, very wrong. At first it mightn't be apparent. Everything happens so fast when you're fighting for your life. Ansgar was a professional though. He'd probably figure it out, but likely too late. What was the problem?

Zande hadn't swung when he was supposed to. He had wound up, he had rushed in screaming, poised to attack... But he hadn't yet brought the axe down. Therein lay Zande's method. He used the threat of his fast approach, of his terrific offense to goad opponents into reacting hastily. First off came what Ansgar had probably expected. After the lead right axe clipped the shield and during Ansgar's attempt at an elbow, Zande dropped his weight so that the elbow would impact and skid across his thick chestplate instead of his solar plexus, right arm flexing up so that Jancro could guard his head and neck from spike or sword.

Chances are Ansgar was, at that moment, using his right leg to push forwards for maximum power delivery as pertaining to his elbow strike. Zande had more weight and much more momentum, as so Ansgar likely intended to use that leg as a kickstand to support the impact as well to stop the jungle man cold. That rear leg would probably be, at least briefly, locked straight as Ansgar pushed forwards. Zande was counting on it. The cannibal's long left leg swished out, heel plowing into the ground on Ansgar's right as Hot Steppa whipped in with an electric vibe of power at a low angle to just about take the knight's right leg off at the knee. Zande's dark features contorted into a rictus of capering ferocity as he surged into the blow, a loud groan of pure inflammatory emotion wheezing out from clenched jaws. So broad was the blade of the bearded axe that even if Ansgar had the last second foresight to try and bring his right knee up at the cost of his stability (resulting in him being bowled over by Zande's charge), he'd still be struck. His chainmail might prevent the leg from being fully severed, but it'd absolutely be rendered useless should the axe land, the kneecap thoroughly crushed and lacerated.

[User]
Doctor (I'm sorry for the wait. Work and stress has kept me away from this.)

Again, was this guy serious?

In fact, he'd managed to make this situation worse.

Ansgar was only going to disable the man and leave him to limp off in shame, but now he'd cut off his own arm.

How?

Well, Ansgar's elbow had struck the plate of his armor and pushed it off to the side. With his particular footing this was quite fortuitous, considering he had a very sturdy posture. Ansgar simply dragged his arm straight upwards and turned his wrist towards Zande's under-arm. Slashing upwards towards the flesh of his arm, considering he was swinging a massively heavy axe downwards towards his leg. It would be difficult for him to stop his arm.

Once his arm was sufficiently sliced, the axe would likely fall harmlessly from his hand. Directionally thrown by the force of his swing.

Oh, and about his other axe? As his right arm swung upwards, his left arm raised slightly. Pulling the shield up between himself and Zande's body. A cramped movement, considering they were already touching. Though not impossible.

[Assistant]
(No probs, take your time. In fact, I'm gonna try to make things more fun and interesting.)

There were many things Zande could have tried to evade the slash. He might have released his axe and snatched it up later, or perhaps he could have attempted to maneuver his right axe into the way of Ansgar's blade. As motherfucking if. This particular cannibal just didn't roll that way. Zande was without a doubt a glass cannon, lightly armored and made purely to dish it out. His offence was his defense. He'd been in many, many fights to the death, and more often than not he could bully his opponents around by way of intimidating them with his raw, rushing power and unpredictable timing. They rarely had the chance to attack back, because if they did they'd get creamed. But, that was because most of them were thinking about stopping the axe at the head, where all that deadly force was concentrated. Ansgar had just thrown Zande for a loop by actually standing his ground and attacking the vulnerable meat of Zande's arm instead of trying to block or avoid the axe. He was answering Zande's attack with an attack of his own, daring to trade blows with the monstrous tribesman who was largely inexperienced in dealing with men brave enough to take him head on.

But, Zande was a quick-witted and wily killer. He saw Ansgar's elbow flaring up and reacted almost instantly. He jerked his right axe up (not with much force due to his commitment to swinging the other axe) so that the bladed prongs would secure the shield's spike and nudge the man's arm back, to perhaps cause a delay and a shift in the sword swing as the shield arm bonked into the adjacent rising sword.

What was Zande's ultimate goal? Well, it wasn't really very ultimate. He just wanted a tiny moment to progress the swing a ways further so that when the axe left his hand, it would be chucked nearly point blank into Ansgar's knee. It would lack the full follow through of Zande's muscular power, but would still be easily enough to maim the knight and cripple that leg.
A trade off, Zande was seeking. An arm for a leg. Ansgar would have a definite advantage. He'd be wounded, but with no severed arteries. Zande on the other hand would have his brachial artery sliced open, and would have only about forty-five seconds before he became too weak from blood loss to fight. He'd pass out after a minute.

A likely result of the altercation would be Zande's weight and height toppling Ansgar over, with the savage scrabbling for a mount of top of the knight whilst bleeding like a pig. It'd be a simple contest, if this scenario happened. Last out for forty-five seconds against a one-armed Zande. How intense could forty-five seconds possibly get?

[User]
Unfortunately, his sword had successfully found providence in the underarm of the primitive. He hadn't particularly taken into account how crazy these tribal cultures can be, because the man had somehow managed to throw his axe midway through the swing. Normally not much of a problem, but this thing was tremendously heavy and it had been slingshotted straight towards Ansgar's right leg where it smashed in force against he side of his shin and continued forward.

In any situation with any normal weapon, this wouldn't be much a problem. Maybe a little bruise and maybe a little bleeding, but this axe weighed an inhuman amount. His shin cracked and buckled beneath the weight, as hid his leg. The bone split pretty cleanly and the man could no longer stop the advance of Zande.

However!

Ansgar was a trained professional who knew more about fighting than he did about having a normal life, his reaction was pretty fluid. His upper body twisted with the force of Zande's advance and he shoved his left elbow outwards and into the tribal's side. Almost resembling a clumsy judo throw before his weight could no longer be held by his broken leg. The pain was so intense in this moment his eyesight had washed red and his body had moved on its own. Hopefully Zande would be thrown a goodly distance away from his own momentum, but in the off chance he wasn't the pair would land facing eachother on their sides. Ansgar on his right and Zande on his left.

[Assistant]
Ansgar succeeded with his judo throw, but he couldn't have expected it to go smoothly where a wild black man was concerned. For Zande, this had been the first time he had ever been judo'd by someone smaller than him. For Ansgar, it'd probably be the first time an opponent had propelled a nasty gout of blood into his face. Zande flexed and rocked his wounded left arm at Ansgar's face as the clash took him up and over the knight, potentially drenching the man's eyes with red in more ways than one.

Were Ansgar to be temporarily blinded by the blood, he'd find himself quite dead not a second after hitting the ground across from the tribesman. It was a simple tactic, but simplicity is often the best weapon. Zande dropped his right axe when they toppled over each other, and Ansgar might have been too fogged up with the gooey bodily fluid to see the lunatic whip his weighted hunting knife out. Ten inches of viciously sharp serrated steel that would, if Zande had his way, be immediately thrust through Ansgar's visor and into his right eye socket after they landed, a skillful assault not of the sort to be disrupted by a lucky head tilt. Zande'd make sure to avoid the shield arm so that his aim stayed true, though of course that's easier said than done. If Ansgar pitched a fit in anticipation of getting stabbed in the frontal lobe, it'd take Zande considerably more time to line up his shot.


[System]
ABSTRACT: Cocky Teen with a Perfect Memory and Way too much Energy

DETAIL: Born to an old family of Rune Mages, Vincent is the heir to the family's legacy. He grew up without a want for anything on the family estate. He was an only child and got all the affection from his parents and grandparents. Because of this he grew up believing that he was the best thing in the world. Very quickly he learned that he never forgot anything he saw or heard and decided to make us of this talent the best he could.

On his sixteenth birthday as per family tradition his father created a magic item for Vincent: a writing implement that can write on anything. His father then donated the item he received from his father as was family tradition for the use of those that need it. His father then told him that there were always those less fortunate than themselves and had a responsibility to help those that needed it. Vincent didn't say anything, but he felt like he only had a need to take care of himself and that others were totally able to take care of themselves. He began his training as a rune mage the next day.

He only halfheartedly committed himself to learning as he could passively pay attention and memorize. Even so he ended up discovering that the entire theory and practice behind rune magics were extraordinarily difficult. His father eventually realized Vincent's lack of spirit about learning rune magic and on the eve of his 17th birthday, Vincent was sent to the Wall in an attempt to awe the boy into a change of heart. Little did his father know that this would be the last time they'd see each other.

MAGICAL INVENTORY: Vincent has a few sigils properly memorized and a single magical item created through rune magic gifted to him by his father.

He knows a sigil that creates a cup of water if drawn on an object that could be used as a container for water.

He knows a sigil that tells true north when used.

He knows a sigil that can stop bleeding, but isn't strong enough to actually heal a wound. It needs to make contact with the injured part of the body at some point or it will not work.

The magical item is a stylus styled pen that draws out white ink and can be used on any object. This item holds a piece of Vincent's father's soul and is very dear to the young man. The ink glows in the dark. It is a pen however, therefor mistakes are very much permanent until the ink wears out.

[User]
After a few more minutes of running, Moth finally ran out of energy and slumped forward, hands on knees. A few people milled around him, either not noticing or not caring about the small young man covered in sweat and on the verge of blacking out. It was his first real field assignment with the partnership, and he had already screwed it up. He shuffled towards the nearest section of wall and fell backwards against it, sliding into a sitting position. His heart pounded in his ears. He gazed out towards the open expanse and it all came back to him. A torrent of birds rose from somewhere far away and scattered into the air. The clouds were already turning from pink and orange into a silky bluish white as the sun continued to rise over the opposite end of the Wall. It was still early in the morning and the tourists were scarce; moreso in an area so close to construction.

Moth tapped a keyboard and pulled up an image of his Sigil of Stamina. He concentrated, and tried his best to clear his mind, and hoped. Someday he would get there. Someday he would be sitting in one of those offices, numbers dancing in his head and the world displayed in formulas and graphs before him. Someday he would make partner. Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, Brown, and Piper, LLC. The Sigil glowed.

Moth took a deep breath and exhaled, shaking. The sweat cooled and his heart returned to almost a normal rhythm.

"All is not lost in this venture. I get at least two pretty sights today."

Directly across from him, a young couple with their backs to him flirted openly. A young woman nearby sniffled loudly as she looked out over the valley and clutched a book to her chest. Another woman stood nearby and snapped pictures. Not of the view, like he expected, but of people. Weird.

Aether"Relax boss lady, I'm sure by the time the inspector or whatever he is called arrives everything will be done."

Boss lady? Moth's spirits perked up.

"Um, excuse me. Are you in charge here?"
"You rang boss?"

A little girl who crinkled was tugging on a worker's sleeve. Another worker was trying to get her attention. Looking closer, Moth noticed several people surrounding her. He suddenly got the feeling of something just below the surface, like a large bubble in a pot of boiling water rising to the top. Or a bomb about to go off. Moth pulled his knees to his chest and subconsciously pressed himself against the wall.

[Assistant]
No sooner had Dazz put down the binoculars, a high-pitched screech rang out at the far side of the section. Old Borrick the bot mechanic sprang up, squealing like a stuck pig, dropped his toolkit and frantically wiped wet cement out of his mile-long beard. Crunk, the cement-mixer robot, had somehow got the bright idea to slop all that cement right into Borrick's lap. Borrick danced from one foot to the other, sloshing cement everywhere, while Crunk whirred happily.

Dazz sprinted to the scene, slammed Crunk's off switch, and while the robot powered down she whirled on the rest of the builders with death-laser eyes. It only took a glance to know the one face that was missing was the guilty party.

"ETHAN MORRFIELD!" she roared like a tiger. The inspection was destroyed, the murder investigator just got a new reason to be suspicious, and one of her builders had up and gone missing. "This has your name all over it. ETHAN! Git your ass out here!"

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and Ethan barely managed to get a few words out before Dazz slammed the barrel of her stun-gun back into his gut and gave him enough of a jolt to send him sprawling. Dazz stood rigid for awhile, without even looking back at him. Finally she holstered the stun-gun and dropped a hard hat on Ethan's face. "Git back to work," she said icily to the rest of the builders.

The doors of the visitors' elevator whizzed and clacked open, letting out the newest batch of gawk-eyed city folk. Fortunately, they were a bit too far off to have heard much of the commotion, and the tour guide was showing them the view in the opposite direction -- couldn't have the visitors getting stuck in Ethan's cement-mess, after all -- but they were another factor in the already complicated wreck of a day. Especially the ones that hung around too close to the build site, skipping the tour to watch the sunrise, apparently. The city folk held the sun and the sky much dearer than the builders ever did.

Elliana was one of those tourists, transfixed by that sun, for a minute not so nervous or timid -- that is, until Florence took a fall from up high on the building beams and landed right smack on his back just behind her. He looked dead, for a minute -- anyone would've had a concussion and a few broken bones from that tumble -- but just when she might start to call for help, Florence gave her a fright and leaped with his power boots back up to the build site, laughing, not a scratch on him.

The laugh was short-lived, though. Dazz was waiting for him, a cold grin on her face, and she shoved the handle of a shovel at his chest. "And you can clean up Ethan's cement mess," she told him pleasantly. "After you apologize to that girl."

She turned her head slightly, glancing sidewise at the reporter behind a clicking camera. "Reina, is there really nothing more interesting going on today besides a cement spill and a dumbass prank?" Dazz heard the telltale groan of a cable trolley opening up down the wall, and her ever-observant eyes caught sight of Otto -- a hunched old man with an identifying black satchel and a very purposeful business to attend to. Dazz's mouth twitched. "Hey Reina," she said to the photographer, sidling closer to speak confidentially. She gestured with a thumb at Otto, who was below them and a little distance away. "See that guy? If he talks to you or asks to see any pictures, I'd appreciate it if you came up with an excuse not to, right? I'll owe you lunch."

In the background, Borrick the mechanic was still sobbing hysterically over his cement-covered beard.

"Borrick yer gonna be fine!" Dazz hollered. "Florence is gonna help you get that all cleaned up. Right Florence?" Borrick wailed in despair. Dazz winced, but was finally distracted by the sound of crackling and a tap on her shoulder. Dazz steeled herself, balling a fist in preparation to give Ethan a good slug to the jaw, but her eyes opened in surprise to find a small girl in a huge jacket filled with something that smelled and sounded delicious. Dazz tipped her head, relaxed, and spoke with an honest smile. "I'm Dazz, and I'm absolutely in charge here," she told Maria. "But this is a dangerous zone, what're you doing up here?" She produced a hard hat from behind her back and dropped it onto Maria's head.

Chigger the robot whirred back around with another trayful of glasses of water. It stopped beside Maria and held the tray up to her, then scrambled across to where Emmitt was drawing chalk lines between the rivets -- obviously one of the most dedicated workers on the wall. The robot stopped beside him and very intently offered him a glass of water, beeping and whistling encouragingly. When Liam -- the only builder Dazz always referred to as competent -- approached to offer his generous help with the endlessly crooked rivets, Chigger raised the tray of water glasses to him, too, then scurried away with a pat on the head to retrieve more water. At least one little oasis in this chaos remained peaceful.

Dazz's pocket alarm began blaring music -- a popular song by the city-famous Gypsy K.O. -- and she growled as she yanked out the offending device and turned it off. Was that expenditures meeting today? "Shit." This was the absolute worst time for a meeting about the money, especially when they were running so enormously over-budget. Dazz glanced back at Otto the inspector, saw that he had taken a break to puff on a wood pipe, and decided this was her only opportunity to get the accountant out of the way as quickly as possible. She gave Maria another smile. "Hold that thought, I got an auditor to get rid of. Here, Reina can help you out. She knows about as much as I do at this point, anyway." Dazz tapped Maria toward Reina and rushed to the meeting, already making plans to get him to go away.

A few of the visitors had stayed behind from the tour, and instead were milling about near the elevators. The timid Elliana stood against the outer wall, still recovering from Florence's bad taste in pranks. Katrina, whom Dazz vaguely recognized as an accomplished bio-mechanic, exchanged cigarettes and conversation with the young and rich Vincent, whose silent butler pretended to be more interested in the sunrise. And then, there was a geeky, lanky kid in a sweat-stained suit, curled up against the barrier, staring at a calculator screen.

Dazz removed her hard-hat and approached skeptically. She gave Moth's shoe a light kick to get his attention; he seemed to be preoccupied with his own nerves. "You that accountant from the . . . color-wheel firm?" Seemed a bit young to be doing such important work, but maybe that would work in her favor. Dazz gestured with her head back toward the building block. "C'mon, then. Get this over with, right?"

Down in the city, the big screen at the city square popped into existence, and the queen's smiling face appeared there, tall as a building and radiant as the rising sun. Good morning, good morning! her voice chirped throughout the city -- loud enough for the echo of it to reach the top of the wall, but not so loud as to be disturbing. It's a gorgeous morning, isn't it? The clouds are in all sorts of funny shapes today! I'm especially looking forward to the cake festival today on Jiminy Street. I heard Lee Loo will be doing a live sigil-baking demonstration, and Gypsy K.O. might be performing! And good luck to those of you participating in the hovercrate races! I'm rooting for each and every one of you!

Thunder rumbled in the distance, though the sky was bright.

Electricity sparked behind the clouds over the diamond mine.

I hope you have an exceptional day --

The feed suddenly cut out, and the screen disappeared.

Moments passed, and the day was just as normal as it ever was; the city carried on with its morning. Probably just a glitch in the system.