[System]
W I L L O W

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BASIC INFO

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Age: 18

Year: Senior

Gender: Female
APPEARANCE:

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Height: 5'7

Weight: 71 lbs

Skin Color: White. Literal white.

Physical Description: A pale ghost of a girl. Average height, thin build. No meat or muscles at all. Skin and hair, all colorless. Big eyes, white like her skin, save the pupils and pitch black sclera. Button nose, thin lips, wavy hair going down to her neck.

Clothing: Dark tops. Dark pants. Lots of grays and navy blues. Never anything too bright. Likes big coats with fur on them. The kind old ladies would wear.

Voice: Soft. Quiet. Weak, almost. When she's a ghost, it has an echo to it.
PERSONALITY:

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Character Traits: Silent and observant. Strange in the eyes of strangers. Always has a smile on her face. Perfectly content with being alone, but doesn't scorn companionship. Seldom the one who speaks to someone else first. Talks sparingly, but with kind words - if at times, odd words. Blunt statements. Flowery language comes out when she likes someone.

Bad parts. Curious. Too curious, sometimes. Explores places she's not supposed to explore. Thinks she can't be touched. Ghosts everything. Doesn't take dangerous things seriously. Lacks long-term goals. No aspirations - just living in the moment.

Bonds: Seeing the world and the people in it. Spending a little bit of time with friends. Helping her father around the workplace. Small things.

Activities: Writing. Drawing. She has a little journal full of short stories, poems, and sketches. Loves to craft with the antiques at home, sometimes reads some of the old books too. Goes shopping for new coats every now and then. Explores abandoned, condemned, or otherwise unoccupied unoccupied buildings.

Skills: Artsy things. The written word. Pencil sketches. Good at cleaning and sorting the antiques at home. Picked up a knack for staying out of sight when she wants to.
BACKSTORY

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Backstory: A man and a woman - Lloyd and Esther Dendry - had a child eighteen years ago, after the great light shone over Leesburgh.

Abnormalities in the pregnancy, right away. Couldn't see her in the ultrasound. Pressure fluctuations in the mother's womb. Couldn't have guessed the baby girl would float freely out of it, see-through. Her skin all white, her cries all echoing. Suddenly she solidifies, drops to the floor - a doctor catches her.

Father always loved the strange and supernatural. Excited for what was happening. Mother feared it. Fear quickly turned to hate with the new wave of eventful births around town. Babies born floating. Crackling with electricity. Scales and tails.

Willow's mother couldn't show any love to her. Got mad at her. Threatened to hurt her, and other children too. Lashed out at her husband. Said she wanted it to stop. Said she was afraid of them all. Swung a knife around one night, got taken away after that. Spent a few years locked up. Found dead in her room one morning. Aneurysm.

Willow was only three during the funeral.

Life went on. Willow got older. Learned to shift back and forth freely. Helped her father around the Rustic Palace. Developed a love of antiques and creativity. Moved into the shop when the house got sold. Went to school. Feared the bullies, kids and grown-ups, throwing stones at her. Learned to ghost the stones and stopped being afraid. Let all the dangers of the world pass right through her. Let nasty words go ignored.

Stopped thinking about her mother.

Started to smile again.
POWERS:

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Description: Incorporeality. The power to become intangible, weightless, translucent. Can fly freely through the air. Pass through solid matter. Takes her clothes and small possessions with her into the ether. Gives people shivers when she passes through them, like a cold specter.

When physical, she's floaty. Jumps higher than others. Falls slower. Gravity is kinder to her.

Limitations: Ghosting takes energy. Can't stay intangible forever. One hour, no breaks, before passing out. Can't be asleep and intangible at the same time. Can't shift back to tangible if she's still caught in something, even by a toe.

Weaknesses: Heat. Fire. High temperatures. Disrupts the shifting process. Forces her back to corporeality.

Other Information: Nothing for now.
SCHOOLING

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Favorite Subject: Fine Art 3.

Least-Favorite Subject: Science.

Grades: As in art and literature. Bs and (mostly) Cs make up the rest. Not the best student.

Embarrassing Moment: Sophomore year. Shifting through the school. Accidentally found herself in the boys' locker room during senior gym class. Lots of looks. Took her a moment to flee. Only time anyone's ever seen her blush.

[User]
𝕎 𝕚 𝕝 𝕝 𝕠 𝕨

"I saw it flee the scene," Willow replied to Elle's inquiry, "It melded with one of the sewer pipes and traveled down the tunnel. I have no idea where it could have gone, but…"

She paused for a moment to gather her words, adjusting herself as Helen began to doze off a bit with her head resting on Willow's shoulder.

"I could explore the sewers well enough on my own," she began plainly, "no need to open any manholes. I don't know who would want to come with me, it's very filthy down there. But we'd have to find a proper entrance if so."

She really doesn't have a plan. But jumping blindly into the sewers seemed like an alright place to start. Hopefully someone else chimes in with a better idea - where to start looking, what to bring with them - because Willows was getting too caught up in imagining what they could possibly find down there, and how dangerous it could be.

And what to tell her father, of course.

"Does anyone know the tunnel network very well?"

[Assistant]
Monday, September 6th, 2010

Labor Day

(apparently this scene is an Apple commercial)

Helen spent her day off mostly lying in bed, her head aching from the last night's drinking and smoking. She nearly threw up shortly after waking up, though was able to pull herself together afterwards. She drank two liters of water and ate a plate of fried plantains with vegan bacon. Then she laid back down in bed, stretching out over the pink and green striped covers. The walls of Helen's room were a pale sage, and art decorated as much space as it could: band posters, flower presses, a year-old wall calendar. To the left of her pink and white desk, dozens of Willow's drawings (as well as a few of her own) plastered the wall. On the back of the door was a black poster with a large white pentagram in the middle. Around it were the words:

"God and Goddess
Wise and True
Guide Me Now
In All I Do."

 After several more hours sleeping off the hangover, Helen finally got dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a dark yellow tank top. She put on her hiking shoes and packed her backpack, which was green and polka-dotted with small yellow and pink flowers. She began to pack her bag. Into it she stuffed a phone charger, a bottle of water, a Nature Valley Bar, a pair of gardening gloves, and a small pocket knife. She stuffed a travel-size can of pepper spray into her pocket, as well as her phone and her keys. She laced up her brown hiking boots and wandered out of her bedroom towards the living room. Helen's mom, Cassie, was sitting on the sofa, drinking a glass of wine with her feet up on a cushion. A rerun of Friends was on TV.

"Hey honey," Cassie said. "Have you finally decided to become nocturnal?" Helen sighed--it was only 5 o'clock and the sun was high in the sky, but her mom had a point.

"Nah," she said. "I just had a really bad headache this morning."

"I figured," Cassie said. "You must have been trashed last night."

"Mom!" Helen said, her face flushing red.

"Oh come on honey," Cassie replied. "When Willow brought you home last night she practically had to carry you through the front door and you reeked of weed." Helen looked down at her shoes, embarrassed. Her mom had this way of trying to be relatable that only served to make Helen feel more embarrassed when she did something she wasn't supposed to. Maybe that was the point.

"You just need to be careful sweetie," Cassie said. "I don't want you to get arrested or something!"

"Mom I'm not gonna get arrested," Helen said. "Nobody cares about weed anymore--it's not the 1970s.

Okaaaay," Cassie said singsongedly. "So now that you've risen from your slumber, where are you heading? Back to Willow's?"

"Yeah, probably," Helen said, disguising her lie by looking down at her phone. Cassie smiled, her cheeks slightly pink from the wine getting to her.

"Awww," she said. "You two are so cute together! I'm so happy for you!"

"Mooooom," Helen said. "You know it's not like that. Willow is just-"

"I know, I know," Cassie replied. "I'm just teasing you! It's my job as your mom!" Helen rolled her eyes and moved for the door.

"I'll be back later," Helen said. "Love you mom."

"Love you too honey!" Cassie called out. "Don't make bad decisions!" Helen groaned. She felt like she had already made a bad decision by walking out the front door.

---

6:00 PM

The waste tunnel sat at the end of a gravel access road off of Mount Gray Boulevard, about half a mile out of town. A wild and unkempt field stretched around the ditch, brambles and grasses and wildflowers all tangling with each other. The side of the road was littered with broken glass, chunks of asphalt, and the occasional heroin needle. Down the road, an abandoned construction site sat in an alcove, a mess of rusty rebar and jersey walls. Doug, Helen's car, crunched through all of the debris on the roadside as it pulled onto the access road and down to the waste tunnel. The tunnel was built into a small ridge. It consisted of a heavy iron grate about the diameter of a person. A heavy iron padlock held the grate shut. To the left of the ridge and the grate, a rusting silo moldered, standing like some kind of scrap metal obelisk. A wall of scraggly trees disguised the tunnel from the main road, and if you didn't know where to look you'd have never known it was there. The day was cloudy, and a slight drizzle tapped on the windshield.

Helen pulled onto the side of the access road, Doug's tires squelching as it sunk into the mud. She sighed, looking out at the scene before her. It looked like she and Willow were the first ones there. She checked her watch: 6:00 on the dot. Where was everyone? Did they chicken out? It would make sense for them to have--this was a terrible idea. Helen turned Doug off and reclined her seat to look up at the cloth ceiling. Her stomach was a mess of knots and her arms were numb with fear. Helen was the kind of kid who did rebellious things just to get under the skin of grown-ups who acted like they had sticks up their ass. She was certain she would not do well in juvenile detention if they got caught.

"I'm not sure how good of an idea this is Will," Helen said. "We really aren't supposed to be here…"


[System]
Riona Galsette (for The Elder Scrolls)
Gender: female

Race: Breton

Political Affiliation: none

Age: 19

Guild Affiliation: none

Areas of Expertise:

She is proficient as an archery apprentice. Taught novice level sneaking by beggars and local tramps in the slums of Bravil. Conjuration of a bound sword through practice only being able to summon one at a time for a couple of minutes. Flexible in acrobatics honed in free-runing over obstacles in the roof and major walls of the walled shanty town, its the most developed kill she has being adept. Finally, a decent swords-woman with her conjured blade novice level. Her one handed skill was trained slaying small pests and goblins that roam the outer wilds.

Spell Repertoire:

Touch of fear -novice illusion spell. Bound dagger - novice conjuration

Loot/Gold: 33 septims and a few jewels that have not yet been appraised worth of different values.

Appearance:

Height: 5'6" Skin Tone: slight tanned fair;
Hair: short-cut to a few inches below her jaw. Lose bell shape, auburn colored.
Eye Color: light chocolate wine brown with a gray ring around the iris.
Face: round face with slightly full cheeks and a slight pointed jaw. A small scar across the left side of her eyebrow and a lip piercing on her lower lip being a silver ring. Slim short nose and a thin upper lip over her fuller lower one.
Slim athletic build.

Equipment/Enchanted Items:

black cloth leggings, leather boots, leather gauntlets, leather hood and a leather jerkin over a sleeveless work shirt that she tucks in. A traveling backpack with her personal hygiene materials, a cover, small tent lantern, metal tankard and a fork and a plate.
Weapons: a crossbow and bolt quiver worn on her waist on the left and an iron knife. No enchanted items.

Weaknesses:

Her brash and aggressive emotional reactions that cause her to be much less cautions when she loses her cool. Deathly scared of apparitions, spirits ghosts and wraiths.

Backstory:

Riona is a rouge that takes on any job she can get, she is a self proclaimed "witchhunter" with no former training for the job and only in the title. Fast on her blade as well as tongue, as a rouge, she is similar to a thief but is slightly better trained in the light weapon and armor arts. She possess agility and cunning that make her a formidable opponent where she lacks in brute strength. She prefers speed in combat rather than physical prowess. Persuasive in conversation, her tongue is good enough to save her a few coins but not enough to persuade guards from looking away at her small crimes if caught. In addition to her skills with a bound blade, she picks the locks and pockets of those who won't mind missing something of decent value. Depending on her ability when her words fail, she can either fight or flee depending on the opponent.

Riona grew up in the worst part of Bravil where bandits, thieves, low-lives and beggars made it their filthy paradise. Being the daughter of an independent fence, she learned the value of items and equipment for the right amount of coin. Her father taught her in speechcract and how to make prices shift to her benefit. He is a man completely involved in and around money and more than a dozen shady practices. Due to this fact, she has had to face some of the consequences her father brought upon them living they lifestyle that the slums offer.

In her years of training, her sneak and agility in acrobatics has been honed by jumping and free-running over the roofs of the massive shanty town. She has faced some of the worst undesirables the bad side of the law has to offer. She is no saint or ignorant to the ways of men and their lust and greed either. She has been taken by force more than a few times against her will, either for sick fun and entertainment by some of the local men or as "taken" payment from the piled debts her father had collected. Due to men handling her as an object and the dealing with the mental trauma of rape, she has harbored hate and ire towards any man that looks at her like she's some piece of meat.

She is always wary around any man and with good reason, in her upbringing she has never met a gentlemanly one yet, that did not have hidden intentions toward her. Riona decided to learn the skill of the blade once she was seventeen, her misery had led her to her boiling point and she vowed never to let a man take her body like so cheap commodity or thrill. She has never killed but has wounded those unfortunate to lay hands on her. Her mother had been kidnaped and taken by a necromancer at the age of fourteen. She was taken to one of the more dangerous caves in the area and experimented on till she was finally sacrificed to a deadric lord and her corpse reanimated.

Three years later once she had enough bravery and skill, she set out for that same cave with the intent of getting revenge to satisfy her need to avenge her mother's death. Upon searching the entire cave she found that the necromancer had been gone for years and the only things of value and clues to where he went was an old spellbook and a few jewels.

Riona read the book till she mastered her very first spell "bound dagger" and she's trained with it around the outskirts of Bravil slowly gathering money. With some of her earnings precious stones, she eventually purchased a light armor set, a skinning knife and a crossbow. A few jobs assisting the local fighters guild (not as a member more so as an assistant/intern) gave her the experience on how to use her crossbow efficiently. She spent the next two years training with her weapons till she bought her most recent spell from a traveling merchant who also spoke of an infamous necromancer with the habit of sacrificing women. The merchant had last heard of him back in Skyrim which is her now, ultimate destination.

Personality:

Riona is Friendly, adaptable, action-oriented. "Doer" type who is focused on immediate results. Living in the here-and-now, she's a risk-taker who lives a fast-paced lifestyle. Impatient with long explanations. Extremely loyal to her peers if the prove to be worth having, but not usually respectful of laws and rules if they get in the way of getting things done. Good persuasive skills.

Fun-loving, she makes things more fun for herself and for her personal enjoyment. Living for the moment, she loves to engage new experiences. She dislikes theory and impersonal analysis. Interested in being fair in all things concerning business, less she can tilt things into a more profitable favor. She will always pay her debts and make sure gets paid what she deserves for a job well earned. Likely to be of awkward attention in social situations where people of high status and manners interact. Well-developed common sense and practical ability although often ignored by her brash instinctual nature and rash behavior. She is easily incited for excitement of almost any kind and hard to calm in serious situations.

She is very enthusiastic, idealistic, and creative. Able to do almost anything that she sets her mind to and usually will pick up something fast if she's really into it. Great at banter and taunting especially to get her opponents to make emotional actions as a result. She is also extremely susceptible to taunts herself to a fault. She needs to live life in accordance with her inner values and will even ignore law If it goes against her own code of honor. Very excited by new ideas, but bored with details. She is open-minded and flexible, with a broad range of interests and abilities.

[User]
Riona Galsette: The Roxey Village, the old Roxey chapel cemetery -- Midyear, 4E 201

"Hic.." The alcohol had been simmering in her system and the already blurred vision became much more than an impairment. A gray leathery hand outstretched reaching out to her from out of the dark pit. Slowly, under the moonlight, a rotting milky white foot emerged fallowed by the torso of a headless humanoid.

Whatever race this thing had been before, there was no way of telling now. The creature had a devilish demeanor about its movements. Jerking and inching fast, exposed torn ligaments of red muscle tissue propelled its hands grabbing and trying to claw at the young girl. The grumble and resonance its moaning made from the open hole in its neck, was a spine chilling sound that would have immediately rushed all the blood from the rouge's face had she not been this drunk.

A step back and pull of the trigger, the first steel bolt was inside the zombie's breast. Even though the spring had given the crossbow a good punch of power, the creature simply jerked with a pause and continued to advance. Riona now saw a horde of the same headless creature, it had somehow duplicated over and over. Her vision began to spin like as if she was looking through a kaleidoscope. She was more pissed now than before she set foot towards this endeavor.

"You brought friends eh?" The chirping of some insect briefly interrupted the moaning of the headless corpse for a few seconds. An almost comical pause had the monster the ability to comprehend humor.

She was out of it, seeing an army of undead where there was none.

She staggered to her feet quickly trying to load a bolt but found her fingers too uncoordinated for the task. The girl dropped the crossbow and stumbled several feet avoiding broken and half sunken tombstones as she put a bit of distance between herself and her target.

As the monster moved in with now springing speed, she closed her eyes and chanted the string of words inside her mind that had been the practice of several years.

Slowly a disruption of reality and distorted, mirrored vibrations in the space before her began to materialize an ethereal outline of a deadric dagger. Her hand grasped the handle as the resonance of the blade echoed throughout the cemetery. Transparent spectral flames emanated from her newly summoned weapon as she took a fighting stance and readied for the oncoming collision of the hellish creature.

Arms flailing with the full intent of carnage, the porcelain zombie rushed the Brenton girl booming its demonic and inhuman sounds as it sprinted. Riona quick-stepped to the side and swung with all her might. Even drunk, the adrenaline rush she had gave her a spurt of energy and focus to slice a rotted arm clean off. A creepy sight it was, the creature tackled the back outer wall of the of the church making dust and pebbles fall from high above on impact. The severed limb wriggled and clawed at nothing in the air.

As the corpse regained its composure so too had the rouge. She took her stance once more and placed her blade before her. The strong muscular rotted legs advanced her opponent, she blinked several times trying to focus her dual vision of it before it had another chance to strike. The girl swung a moment too early and her chin was caught in the inside part of zombie's elbow and forearm sending her falling hard on her back.

She knew she was in more danger than she could handle, she spun and rolled her body out of the way to avoid another clawed swing. She stammered up and flung her phantom blade at the monster's back right leg. The already uncoordinated corpse would have more trouble on its feet with sliced ligaments. Still, it had limitless reservoirs of endurance and strength, Riona knew she could not keep this up for long. Her face caught the back of the creature's fist as it struck her sending her falling backwards once more with her head slamming into a tombstone.

Pain shot from her skull and blood began to slowly trickle out of an open gash. Needless to say the concentration of her spell was broken and her ethereal weapon dispersed into thin air. A complaining moan escaped her lips as one of her hands rubbed her head. She was dazed and disoriented.

The zombie limped and hopped on its good leg with an almost excited excited spring in each step. It got ready unleash a merciless attack upon the girl. If it could emote its actions, it would probably be making a fiendish howling.

[Assistant]
Gavinyarel: The Roxey Village, the Old Roxey Cemetery -- Midyear, 4E 201

Gavinyarel watched as the woman struck first with a bolt to the zombie's breast, but he was unsurprised at the creature's unconcern. He was about to step in when she abandoned her crossbow, but was genuinely surprised when she conjured a sword in her hand. He paused and decided to see how she fared with her new weapon, which managed to rend the zombie's arm from its body and sever one of its legs partway up. Still, in her drunken state, the woman wasn't a match for the lumbering corpse.

When the zombie had her cornered against a headstone with her head bleeding, Gavinyarel moved in. He dashed toward the zombie, which was readying another slash with its remaining arm. As it swung, Gavinyarel countered just in time. His honed ebony blade, glowing orange with fire enchantment, sent the newly dismembered arm flying over the woman's head. The stump that remained was set ablaze. He punched the creature away with his free hand and then shot a jet of fire at it, turning it into a bright flare that lit up the surrounding area. Enraged, the zombie charged him in all its limping, disarmed frenzy. Gavinyarel dodged left and slashed at his midsection, shearing it in two. As the newly halved zombie collapsed to the ground, it's animation began to stop, whatever force had inspired its motion finally broken.

Gavinyarel took a large cloth from his pouch and wiped away the dust and rotten flesh from his sword before sheathing it. He looked back at the woman and smiled. "All right, I guess you're not quite as green as you seem." he said plainly, impressed by her knowledge of bound weapons.


[System]
S h i o r i

"Think lighter! Act brighter! Like the sun!"
A G E

15

O R I G I N

Osaka, Japan

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

Diligent
Excitable
Instinctive
Kind
Optimistic
Zany

D E S C R I P T I O N

Standing at 5'3" with charcoal-colored hair and bright chartreuse eyes, Shiori is pretty ordinary – though what she lacks for in appearance she makes up a tenfold in her expressiveness and personality. Being a first year at Ishin High is a daunting task and while it may not be ranked first in the Hero Academy listings, it is pretty close in the runnings so Shiori has not wasted any time or energy in preparing her applications. Always smiling and giving an amicable thumbs up, Shiori lifts the spirits of those around her and even though her presence can be overwhelming with endless optimism she never falters; almost like the smile is as much for her as it is for others around her.

Q U I R K T Y P E

Mutation

Q U I R K D E S C R I P T I O N

Initially believed to be as generalized as Solar Empowerment, Shiori's superhuman abilities happen to actually be the result of the Photosynthetic Blood that runs in her body; making the young teenager not too far off from the plants that her mother tends to tirelessly in the family garden. This has allowed Shiori to store large amounts of energy to various effects, though most blame it for her extremely hyperactive and excitable nature. However, the effects of converting light energy into chemical energy has more applications than simply giving Shiori an excess of conventional energy. This extends to the transformation of the energy given from her blood's chemical makeup to augment her body in various fashions, though she's not quite sure how to perfectly maneuver and utilize the energy she is given in a productive, efficient manner at this point in time.

With that said, the weaknesses are pretty much dependent on how good she is at storing solar energy, which she is blatantly not. If Shiori was to push herself to her limits on "half a tank" she would not have a long time before she fell unconscious in the midst of battle; a poor conclusion when fighting and training, indeed. The added side effect to bees trying to pollinate her if she has a paper-cut does not help either.

C A P A B I L I T I E S

Shiori's body is athletic, allowing her to maximize speed and lessen fatigue from exerting herself. Shiori's mother, Hanae Kanemaru, was relentless in how she raised Shiori. Being a superheroine herself, Hanae knew the challenges Shiori would have to face if in the likely chance a quirk was to manifest in her and so prepared to teach her how to be "ready" as well as instill a hard working ethic in her when she came of age. As such Shiori has decent physical stamina as a result of her mother's "optional lessons" to prepare her for the exams to get into Ishin High – a school supposedly nearly as difficult as U.A. High to get accepted into.

C H A R A C T E R G O A L S

Shiori is a hard-working female character with a moderate quirk that allows her to be dangerous with the right amount of character development and plot precedence. The goal for her is to play off characters and make decisions based on those interactions; she's not cold and introspective like many of my characters so this is room for me to do something different for a change. As a character that finds good in everyone and is largely optimistic it will be interesting to break down her world as I go into her backstory; specifically that with her father, Bloodstone, a supervillain whom she knows very little about due to her mother raising her alone. The revelation of Bloodstone being her father will be world-ending for Shiori and I feel like it'll be a great moment as she stands oblivious and confused in the heat of the moment in the midst of conflict; her friends having to save her before she loses her life at that moment. Shiori can be the comedic relief, one of the main protagonists, the tragic death – the options are pretty much open for her and I just want the chance to write the character.

Per Shiori's perspective her ultimate goal is to live up to her mother's legacy and expectations, though personally she doesn't care about being the "top hero". She'd much rather be content with being one of the greats rather than the greatest around. It's not that hoping to be the greatest isn't realistic but more that she doesn't have the same drive as others; a fact evident in her choice of hero academy.

[User]
S h i o r i

---

 • Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) •

April 7th -- School Grounds

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How low-spirited this school is! And on the first day!

Shiori Kanemaru crossed her arms as she began walking through the hallway corridors of the acclaimed hero academy. She wasn't sure what to expect out of Ishin Academy when she decided to be the best hero she could be and applied to several academies all over Japan. Having been prospectively accepted by several, she decided that Ishin was the best choice to develop her quirk. She knew the school's reputation as being ruthless but all of the hero academies were said to be grueling and unflinching in its preparation of its students for their future as a licensed hero or sidekick. Though after the speech by the academy's principal she was a bit taken back and wondering if she should've stayed in her hometown, Osaka, which housed a hero academy of its own though it was well out of the top ten in Japan and barely on the radar on the international scale.

She had already memorized the floorplan of the school on the train ride to Sapporo, she wasn't exactly wanting to be one of the students whose faces were glued to the map and running into whoever and whatever due to the big piece of paper being in their face. The black-haired Japanese girl was glad that she had what her mother called an "astute" memory. Which was exactly why she was the first student to get to class 1-A, as far as she could tell. She was almost proud of that fact. Upon her arrival, she wondered if she should've waited for her classmates for a few minutes before entering the room to share in the excitement and thrill of their new surroundings. What kind of students were going to be her peers and future friends? What kind of quirks did they have? Were they dour like the school itself or bright like the sun? Questions that made her hesitate albeit for only a moment. She poked her head into the room, her body covering the entrance of the classrom as she took the initiative to take a little sneak peek.

Wonder where I'll be sitting?

The designation for her homeroom came with a seating chart; she did not forget nor did it really surprise her that she didn't get to pick her own seat in a school as rigorous and over-serious like Ishin Academy. Not that it mattered all that personally to her considering four was her favorite number, anyway! The assigned number could have meant something as simple as fourth in the back or fourth in the front. Which one would it be? Her hands moved to her back as she leaned over to inspect the room; a room that was apparently as empty as a henhouse after a visit from a fox. Not a student, or teacher for that matter, in sight.

A warm smile graced her lips as she knew this was going to be the beginning of so many great things. She'd show her class that you didn't have to be gloomy and dour to be a student at Ishin Academy!

[Assistant]
P e t e r

---

• Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) •

April 7th -- School Grounds

---

Normally Peter lead the way, with Mirror lazily following behind him. Today it was different. Today was Mirror's turn to lead, for Peter had no idea where he was going. He had a map, but he couldn't read it the traditional way. It became invisible whenever he held it, even to him. There were only two real ways to solve the issue. Either stop every once in a while to put the map on the ground to read it, which was most certainly not an option in the cascade of individuals within the Ishin school building, or have Mirror hold up his copy and read that. He chose the latter answer.

As they walked, Peter reflected on the rather dour opening assembly. Stern, strict, he could understand that. You can't become a hero without discipline and all that. But did they really need to be soulcrushing? A major part about being a hero is the ability to inspire hope in others. Dampening spirits was a much better strategy for villains than for heroes.

Then Peter had a new thought. Perhaps the principal was purposefully acting villainous to test how easily the students' dreams gave way? If heroes couldn't bring joy to themselves, they'd have a very difficult time bringing it to others. It both seemed logical and, well, less depressing, so Peter decided to stick with that.

As he contemplated, the two of them arrived at their destination, class 1-A, to find the doorway blocked by a black-haired girl. Probably a classmate, possibly a friend? Mirror began folding up the map and sticking it in his pocket as Peter gave a cheery hello.
"Hey, there! Is this your first year here as well?" Peter asked, "My name's Peter, nice to meet you!"

As he greeted her, Peter tried to look past her into the classroom itself. It had ten desks, lined up in a bit of an untraditional pattern. Instead of two by five, it was layed out three by three, with one all alone in the front. Peter felt a little sorry for whoever would have to sit there. He knew he was number 8, which probably meant he was in the back. That was at least an upside to this school. For some reason in his past classes, he was always stuck at the front, which was especially bothersome for Peter in particular. Mirror would always sit next to him on the floor and do his own thing, which was fine and all, but sometimes that included embarrassing himself or distracting everyone in the class. Eventually Peter started keeping an eye on him and commanding him to stop whenever he was about to do something, but that split attention away from the class itself. It wasn't great.

Besides the ten student desks, there was the teacher's desk in front. Peter couldn't tell if it were just his imagination or not, but this desk seemed especially imposing. Who was the homeroom teacher again? Oh right, Knightmare.
Charming name for a charming person, I'm sure. he thought drearily. This was gonna be good...

---

Tags: @Inkarnate

---

[User]
N a d e s h i k o

---

 • Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) •

April 7th -- School Grounds

---

'Why here?'

It was a repeating thought in the mind of one gooey first year, as she shuffled through a vacating auditorium. Why did she need to attend such a rigid school? There were other good academies in Japan, even discounting the infamous U.A, whom her mother held a vehement grudges against to this day. She had hoped, just the slightest bit, that leaving home for Hokkaido would give her some leeway; no more ever watchful authority figures examining her every move, criticizing her, reminding her of her faults. A silver lining to leaving Ōtsu behind.. Yet from the opening speech alone, the dour uniforms, the rigidity in the syllabus, she could tell; this was going to be just like home. An ironic thing to be so melancholy about, considering the homesickness so many of her peers no doubt felt.

Yet, perhaps this was for the best. She was never very good at making her own choices. Deliberating, over thinking. Air headed, her mother would say. She needed structure in her life. Order, lest she melt away like her quirk willed her body to do. This new academy would good for her. It was a good school, plenty would kill to have the spot she qualified for. Many would kill just to see the beauty of Sapporo. She was being ungrateful. Typical.

Introspective as ever, the young goo girl managed to sequester just enough mental fortitude to navigate through the crowds and into the halls. She had spent plenty of time memorizing the grounds of the school. Each hall, each classroom, the dorms. A few quick glances past the sludgy bangs that gun across her face was enough to recognize landmarks she had seen on the map provided and alter course as required. Even as she berated herself mentally for her selfish complaints, her brisk pace put her ahead of many of her peers, who talked among themselves and delayed their arrivals significantly.

It was perhaps this fact that emboldened Nadeshiko. Hearing the crowd fade away as she walked the halls ahead of the pack, she looked up less and less. Eyes down upon black loafers, she trudged through the hall of wing A, towards the very first room that dotted the impeccably kept walls. Caught up in wondering whether or not she truly deserved the prestige of Ishin, she peered forward seconds too late and collided with somebody, resulting in an 'oof' as the squishy female stumbled backwards and onto her bottom, which itself resulted in her bouncing a few times thanks to its elasticity.

Well this wasn't how she wanted things to start off...

[Assistant]
S h i o r i

---

 • Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) •

April 7th -- School Grounds

---

Shiori was taken off from her gaze by the sound of footsteps and a voice – a greeting from another one of her classmates or so she assumed. She had turned around, with a slightly embarrassed look on her face considering she had been gawking at the room where she would spend the next several years of her life studying to be a hero. It was at this time she also noticed another student approaching – not noticing where she was going and before Shiroi could act or say a word a loud 'thump' echoed throughout the corridor as Shiori found herself falling backwards, her butt landing coarsely on the floor as a physical force pushed onto her and effectively put her in a very awkward and embarrassing situation. She noticed the slime girl had fallen backwards so the only possible conclusion she could make is the male (invisible?) student had fallen into her as a result.

A boy is on top of me!!! T-this is bad!

She couldn't see the face of the boy who was on her, but she knew he was there! She didn't want to use her quirk to force the people off her, but the redness in her face that had suddenly accumulated due to the… situation was significant enough to imply she was not a lewd girl and she wasn't expecting this at all. She was a girl from Osaka, not Akihabara!

"Um!!!" Her voice stuttered a little, flustered in the position she was in. She was not comfortable with it. But she wasn't going to be rude about it. There was no need to throw someone off of her because a simple accident happened. "Can you… uh… get off? This isn't how I exactly wanted to get close to my classmates! I ain't this kinda girl, okay?"


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

[User]
Neil was about to open his mouth in his shrug before Lonney cut him off. "Unknown Capt'm. Galactic map disfunctional, bu' tha radars werkin' like a charm. If tha sublight engines can get started, there's a system 0.003 lightyears away."

"And there's no way we can tell what system that is?"

"Nope."

"Uh, god." Neil said, before he inhaled a large amount of the dust that had been floating around here and he began to cough, choking somewhat until he gained control of himself, patting his chest. "Well at least we have plenty of supplies." He croaked, knowing he at least had a lot of water to drink from. He went off to go do that.

"Roight... about that sir." The voice halted Neil in his tracks. There was an eerie silence as Neil turned around.

"What?" Neil asked, his throat and mouth uncomfortably dry. Lonney's voice crackled over the intercom. Neil sincerely hoped that wasn't a sign of the A.I. losing power. "Well ye ha' three months of supplies, but once we go' tha hull breach ye got aboot a month now. Some of its go' the chemical composition of havin' spoiled from bein' exposed to air, and the rest was sucked oot."
"But we have a month?"
"Aye."
"How long will it take to get to the system if we fix the sublight engines now?"
"two months."

"Goddammit." Neil declared, his voice comically highpitched from the exasperation as he clenched his fist. He seemed to be on the verge of suffering some mild case of space dementia. He pointed at Junebug adamantly. "We're going to fix the hull, and then I'm going to fix the R.I.P. drive and we're going to get the fuck out of here." He didn't know what power source he'd use, or even how much longer they'd have Lonney, but while the Captain did the strategic thinking, he'd work on the ship.

First he was going to take a huge chug of water before he started to conserve it.

[Assistant]
Sayeeda punched the keyboard again and arrived at the same answer.

"Well," she said sinking back into the chair with a grim chuckle, "I suppose we can always eat Taya."

She had run a half dozen different ration scenarios and even at extreme rationing they would only just make it to the as yet unnamed planet. That would exhaust their food and there was no guarantee the place was settled or that there was any indigenous food they could eat. Also it would use up any safety margin they had, so if it didn't pan out they would have no choice but to risk an all or nothing jump.

"we are goin gto have to make the jump," she said glumly.

"Even if I go back into cryo it will be tight, and there is no gaurntee you will have the power to wake me up again."

"We are going to have to jump on number two and hope that the RIP isnt completely set against us." The analogy betwen the RIP and a tide was not perfect, a ship could make way even against a moderate current providing it wasn't in total opposition. Given a spherical orientation such a coincidence was extremely unlikely. But worse things happend in war time.

"I guess we are just going to have to fire it up and hope the containment shield holds and the navi computer dosent totally fry."

[User]
Neil had that water and a bite to eat, and then he unfortunately donned the space suit once more. It seemed just a few hours ago he'd worn the thing. Refitting the helmet firmly atop his shoulders, he gave a light burp at the quick consumption of the provisions and he turned the comm on to get Junebug's attention. "Shut the door to the cockpit." He told her. "I'm juuuust about to make for the compartment area and fix the hull best I can. Copy?" He waited a few moments for confirmation.

Once he was sure the coast was clear, he held onto the railing parallel to the door and used his free hand to release the hatch, letting the door slide open. It did so so violently it impressed him, and he felt the void yanking him in. He was glad his suit's magnetic boots still worked fine, and even with the immense pressure he walked steadily, closing the door behind him. Once the pressure was equalized, instead of being sucked out into space, he felt a weightlessness now counteracted by his boots.

All that was audible was his breathing, and he went to work. "All clear. I'm outside the ship." He clarified to Junebug, beginning to reshape the rent metal, one gloved hand running over one of the immense marks left by the R.I.P. Beast. Hideously, he felt a slick liquid that clung to the bits of metal. The substance seemed a bit too light to be akin to most liquids, yet it wasn't a gas. It made him feel entirely uneasy, mixed with a feeling of intense interest. No one had ever witnessed one of the outer dimensional creatures and lived to tell the tale, save the Great Gideon. And even he was too disturbed to speak of such things, Neil had heard, the hero claiming it nearly shattered his sanity.

"Let's think about lighter things." Neil pipped up to himself, welding and reshaping what he could, the advanced vacuum-welder working like a charm. He only lamented he had no tunes available to listen to while he worked. Instead he just decided to go over what had occurred the last two months, er, years. He'd need to get used to the time thing. Wait...he needed to call his mom!

So engrossed was he in his work that he never turned around. Sayeeda would see... it on the radar once it passed the stellar nursery of molecular hydrogen in the distance. An immense oblong shape of what looked to be polished stone hurtling toward Highlander general vicinity.

[Assistant]
"Contact," Sayeeda reported as her PPI flashed the new signal. Her hands flew over the controls targeting sensors and examining readings. It didn't have the multiple frequency reading that a ship would have, they bi-product of hundreds or thousands of motors, pumps and actuators, It only emitted one signal, a slowly growing diffraction wave.

"All clear," she said by reflex, "looks like its only a comet or some other chunk of space rock. Moving fast though and seems to be... how is it possible for a rock to be accelerating."

"Captm, It mus have onatural high concentrations of antimater that be sublimin to cause thrust," Lonney chipped in. Sayeeda blinked rapidly, momentarily defeated by the dialect the damn computer used. A few finger strokes converted the analysis to text without the accent.

"Hardly fair!" Looney grumped.

"Looks like its going to pass within one standard unit of us, Looney says that it must have a vein of some sort of anti matter rich ore that is subliming to give it its thrust. Sensors can't predict if we will need to maneuver."

[User]
Neil turned his head, the expression on his face somewhat perturbed and annoyed, as if he was being bugged by some unexpected phenomena like spilled milk. However, the unfamiliar silhouette of an object that was approaching that even he could now see with his naked eye was a startling revelation. "Uh, yeah let's see if we can take advantage of this gift from the fricken stars," he replied back on the comm, though whether or not they could benefit from it, he wasn't sure of.

"Antimatter?" He mouthed to himself, and then shrugged before hauling ass back inside to take control of the Highlander. Antimatter was a volatile material from all he'd heard. It would either solve their problem and get them out of this mess, or it would kill them much faster than their current status of 'starving to death in the void.'

The next Sayeeda heard of Neil, it was the door to the cockpit sliding open with him stomping through the door with his suit on. He had his helmet off, but that was about it. "Maneuver? We're going to maneuver the hell on out of here." He told his Captain, hopping onto the cockpit's pilot seat. The frumpy suit made an oddly specific gaseous noise when he sat, which had Neil chuckling to further enhance his daring mood. Thankfully, Sayeeda's fears were not realized. It would pass by them judging from the coordinates on the screen. Just barely.

"Lonney, redirect the power to the cables. We're only going to have one shot at this."

"Yes sir, First Officer Neil Edwards."

"Wh-..." Neil turned to Junebug with an accusatory look, his voice somewhat higher pitched. "What did you do to Lonney?"

Sayeeda snapped twice in front of his face, placed two fingers to her eyes and then to the display monitor. Neil gave a start as if she'd just woken him up. He turned around and unhooked the cables, opening the firing mechanism and took control of the secondary handles, his thumbs over the 'loose' button.

"Ten thousand kilometers before impact," The AI announced, and began to count down from five thousand with mechanical and unerring accuracy. Neil let out a labored breath, his eyes straining as he saw what he perceived as a smooth asteroid enter within range. Just before his thumb hit the button, he spoke up.

"By the way this might make us explode."

[Assistant]
"Well it will either solve our problem and get us out of this mess, or it would kill us much faster than their current status of starving to death in the void," Sayeeda said with a grin. Neil started and turned back to look at her as though she had spoken some strange language but before he could speak the console began to beep a proximity alert. Neil turned back to the control and adjusted the attitude jets with a series of quick motions. They didn't have excess power for the grav pumps so each maneuver drove their chairs into them with significant force, the form fitting polymer doing its best to mute the impact.

"Five seconds to range," Sayeeda reported watching her own console and keying the commands to ready the external grapples. The grapples were meant to secure two ships for a zero-g cargo transfer and not for anything as violent as this.

"Range," she reported and tumbed the trigger on her flight yoke. Metallic bangs resounded through the ship as the grapples fired, moments later they struck the surface of the asteroid tethering them in place. The ship matched speed perfectly as Neil verniered the thrusters expertly.

"Dropping power," he reported slowly easing back, the ship began to sink relative to the asteroid and the cables began to take up tension. This was a critical moment, the rate of change was what was important. The cables would hold two ships together in normal circumstances but the differentials in speed at this order of magnitude could part them like cobwebs. The ship groaned as the power slowly trailed of, only once was there an unpleasant jerk as one of the cables came too snug. Neil cursed and adjusted throttle. At last he shut the engines off completely, allowing the asteroid to pull them along at an equivalent velocity.

Junebug blew out a breath.

"Great, now all we need to do is gather up the most unstable element in existence and use it to give enough energy for a blind RIP jump. Situation is improving."


[System]
Random Descriptors:
Race: Human (Caucasian)
Gender: Male
Age: Older than he looks.
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown

Physical Description:
Tall and deceptively thin, his physique is comprised of tightly packed muscles that grant him a level of strength that very often surprises his opponents, who are expecting to face a man reliant on speed and avoidance rather than one capable of delivering blows on par with the likes of heavyweight boxers. He keeps his dark hair cut short, usually no longer than a quarter of an inch, and tends to wear clothing that is tailored to both compliment and accentuate his tall and slender physique.

Personality Description:
No data available.

Abilities:
Willpower - More than once, he has been called the strongest man in the world, though not in the physical sense. Repeatedly demonstrating a profound ability to apply the theories of mind over matter in a very literal sense, he has come to be known by those familiar with him as a man possessing a truly indomitable will, capable of overcoming obstacles that would leave other men balking in disbelief at the sheer insanity of the attempt.
Hypercognition - David's brain is, for reasons unknown (though likely related to his possession of superhuman willpower), capable of absorbing and processing information on a subconscious level at speeds that surpass even the most powerful supercomputers. He can glance at a situation for an instant, and then correctly deduce the most likely outcomes based on a myriad of factors that most humans would fail to even notice, and indeed he himself is not consciously aware of noticing them. He can learn to speak a new language in days, perfectly mimic the movements of martial arts masters from simple observation, and discover a loophole through which to escape from nearly any trap. The instinctive nature of this ability renders it vulnerable to conscious override, and if he allows arrogance to get the better of him instead of trusting his instincts, its effectiveness can be reduced or eliminated almost completely.
Bend The Rules - Whether this is a side effect of his tremendous willpower or a separate ability altogether is unknown, but what is known is that he is capable of subtly and subconsciously bending the rules of reality in his own favor, making possible things that ordinary men could never hope to achieve and enabling him to match the feats of the peak humans of comic book lore. In addition to making him inherently lucky, it allows him to perform feats such as catching arrows mid-flight and sword blades between the palms of his hands, avoiding automatic and even well-aimed gunfire, punching holes in concrete, performing feats of accuracy and precision that can boggle the mind, and shrugging off wounds that would cripple or kill mortal men. It is this ability, combined with his immense willpower, that has kept him in his physical prime despite being well over one hundred years old.

Skills:
Martial Arts - He has spent a great deal of his life studying and training in martial arts techniques around the globe, and has subsequently developed a new style of fighting that is unique to himself, combining the traits he has found most effective from the various disciplines he's studied, both armed and unarmed, with his hypercognitive instincts to produce a style that can become nearly unbeatable if utilized to its fullest potential.
Firearms - Due to possessing an innate sense of spatial awareness and trigonometry, he is a phenomenal shot with every known firearm, having trained in the use of pistols, shotguns, rifles, and even self-propelled projectile launchers. His hypercognitive mind allows him to instinctively perform the calculations required for making very difficult or even otherwise impossible shots, such as deflecting a bullet off a surface to strike a target out of his direct line of sight or sniping a target from a kilometer away with perfect accuracy. Whether these feats are due entirely to his mind or also supplemented by his rule bending is unknown.

Weapons:
To be determined.

Character History:
No data available.

[User]
He stood at one end of the alley, left hand in the pocket of his dark blue dress pants, which matched the suit coat and vest he also wore, and the other holding a glass filled with an alcoholic beverage. An almost completely alcoholic beverage, in fact. So much so that it would have been toxic to anyone else that might drink it. To David it simply gave his throat an odd tingling sensation as it went down, just shy of a burning feeling. Good stuff.

He stood there, hand in pocket and hand on glass, simply observing the alley before him. There was no one else in it, but he had been told he could find someone here, someone that needed a lesson in manners. He'd never considered himself much of a teacher, or had much regard for manners, but today he decided he'd make an exception. He couldn't say why, maybe it was nagging feeling at the back of his mind or maybe he had just gotten tired of outmaneuvering politicians, but today he felt like he needed a good scrap. It had been far too long since he'd had one of those. All the way back in that weird maze-prison and the free-for-all whose conclusion he couldn't quite recall for some reason.

Regardless of why he was here, the important part was that he was, and so now he simply stood and waited for this mysterious mannerless being to arrive.

[Assistant]
Isa wasn't drunk, she had an insanely high tolerance for alcohol, she drank premium whisky for the burn it gave her stomach before a fight, her dad used to say you need fire in your belly before you throw down, she took a small swig and let the bottle swing back and forth in her hand. She patted herself down for a ciggarette but cursed and spat when all she found was a damp empty box crushed in her pocket.

*Fuck, wrong jeans, I don't know why I do this shit to myself.*

Isa then started to stomp a little faster in her headed direction she took a left at the street she memorised and wound up in the alley where her opponent was supposed to be.
She spotted him slouched in the distance, he was a big guy, probably could handle himself quite well too. Her dark eyes locked onto his hand which was holding some sort of drink, everyone that Isa knew that driank also smoked so she called out to him with a raspy snarl.

*Got any smokes? I'm fresh out, and the assholes on this street wont serve me any more. I've been killing for one since I left the underground man.*

She then took a slightly more relaxed and slower pace as she trotted over to him, very relaxed but definitely jonesing for nicotine.

[User]
As a matter of fact, he did have a pack of smokes. Well, pack wasn't quite the word. He reached into his jacket, no doubt going for an inner pocket, and pulled out a shiny silver case with ornate gold filigree covering both the lid and the container itself, twisted into a myriad of intricate designs. He popped the lid open with a thumb then spun the case around in his hand to face her, revealing the neat row of double-stacked cigarettes inside. They weren't any identifiable brand, but if she was as strung out as she looked she likely wouldn't care.

"By all means, help yourself."

She was quite a bit shorter than him, about average height for a female, and wore a tank top that revealed the intricate tattoo covering her right shoulder. It also revealed a fair amount of the scars that resided on her arms, upper chest, and neck. Almost as many as he himself had, though hers were definitely more pronounced. He smiled slightly at that, a distant part of his mind idly wondering if he had finally found someone like himself after so many years of being one of a kind. It wouldn't be a bad thing, that distant part of him mused, but then again, it wasn't exactly terrible being the only one of his kind either.

[Assistant]
*Much obliged big guy, not too many generous types left in this city, which would indicate you aint from around here.*

She hastily took the cigarette from his had and nodded to him in gratitude before lighting up in almost a flash and taking an indulgent drag on the smoke as it blazed bright red at the tip. It was only standing next to him she truly realised how big he was, rangy but still very solidly muscled, he had a stoic but very human air about him. She tried not to blow smoke in his face when she exhaled and decided to break the awkward silence.

*You seem like an alright dude, but you know I'm going to have to kill you right?*

her words were somewhat muffled by the cigarette in her mouth.

*Sorry, it goes above my head, my fight promoter put out a bounty on you. He said I could bring you in alive but you I doubt youd be willingly captured if you could help it.*

She finished the cigarette and stamped it out, her legs became slightly crouched and she took a few steps back, it was subtle, but any martial artist could tell she was in a battle ready stance. Her eyes were focused but understanding, she held no ill will towards this man but she was ready to kill him to take his corpse back to the undeground and collect his bounty. She didn't like it, she didnt dislike it, it was just business. But she couldn't deny the desire to scrap with a worthy opponent.

*I'm pretty handy with a sniper, I could have popped you on your way over here, but I decided to leave my guns at home, I'm a fighter after all and this is what I do. Out of respect for you as a combatant, I'm willing to leave firearms out of this. Now get ready, dont make any mistakes, the slightest misstep could cost you your life.*

[User]
Slightest misstep indeed. Like lighting up a cigarette in front of the man you're going to kill when he's holding a*very*alcoholic beverage. He knew why she was here. Someone like her wouldn't be here for any other reason, and as soon as the flame jumped off the match (or lighter, whichever one she was using), he almost casually tossed the contents of his glass at her face, right over the open flame. With such a high alcohol content, the fumes would be more than enough to ignite the drink as it passed over the flame and into her face, and the motion held no pre-existent tells. No contortions of the face, no tensing of the muscles just prior to imminent combat, just a man emptying his drink.

He almost felt bad for interrupting her like that, but this was life or death. You either took every advantage your opponent gave you, or you died quickly and painfully. He had no intention of doing the latter. None at all.

[Assistant]
Isa's reflexes were good, but she was too close to the man to avoid damage completely. The man threw the alcohol at her, and she instinctively jerked away. Sadly she wasn't able to move out the splash range of all the drink and a small amount caught her lit cigarette. The beverage was highly flammable, more than any drink, so although it was a small amount, the flames jumped at her face and neck and started to singe her collar and lip as she patted it away as she was stepping back. She was definitely open for an attack, plus she couldn't see in front of her as she patted the last flame away from her slightly burned chin.

Cute little move there you big prick, you better hope you're next attack kills me, because the honor is out of the window at this point.

[User] He moved the instant the liquid caught fire, leading with his right foot as he stepped forward and gripped the now-empty cup by its base to thrust it toward her. The blow was aimed to strike squarely on her nose, though the fact that he held the glass with the opening facing her meant that the rim would strike just above her upper lip and just below her brow, with enough force to break both skin and glass. If the glass did break, his grip on the stout base would relegate any pointy shards and jagged edges to the receiving end of the attack, very possibly blinding her in the process, and he was fairly certain his hand would remain unscathed. The same could not, in all likelihood, be said of the young woman's face. Right now he had the momentum of the fight on his side, and he was not keen on giving that up anytime soon.

[Assistant]
Isa was frantic and off balance but she was a master fighter, although she couldn't adequately defend herself in such a short amout of time, she knew it was coming and her instincts kicked in, although she was temporarily blinded, she always kept her chin tucked in as part of her experience in boxing and did so the moment the liquid hit her, with the force of a haymayker she was cold clocked with the glass that the man was holding, he was probably aiming for the lower part of her face, but because of her last minuite chin tuck the base smacked against her much harder forehead.

The impact was staggering but not unbearable the glass smashed and the first broked shard made a moderately cut right above her eyebrow and a a few of the smaller fragments cut her right ear. But there was an advantage, because of her bullheaded forehead charging stance she resisted any knockback from the dirty attack and was now ready to counter as she started to feel blood drip over her eyebrow.

Like a springboard while the large mans hand was still extended she sliped forward at a very slight angle and threw a quick but stiff jab-straight combo to the exposed body underneath the targets armpit, she would then use the angle to circle away to that same direction to hopefully create some space.


[System]
Theme:

Gender:
Male

Species:
Rat-Man (Immature)

Appearance:

(Rather than a dark brown, the fur is still a bluish-gray and his eyes are still similar but a lighter shade of brown.)

Goals:
-Discover and explore this strange world.
-Find Answers why he was summoned.
-(Bonus) Get back home.

Past Life:

Ed is determined, intelligent, kind, but is perhaps a little too trusting. This is to be expected from somebody with his position. He was born in a middle-class family in some nondescript town. Life was uneventful for most of his early life. He was doing very well in his primary and secondary education and was on his way to getting his degree. He had a good number of close friends, and his family was quite proud of him and his achievements. Life was good and his future was a bright one, and whatever hardships or problems he encountered, he faced with a positive outlook that he could overcome it. He lived with little worry until he was about 20 years old, at that point, life changed. During a pub crawl in celebration of his friend's recent graduation, a simple misunderstanding with other patrons in the pub turned into a heated argument that transformed into a violent brawl. Ed managed to hold his own during the fight, but barely had any time to react when a forceful blow with a stool hit him in the back of the head. Ed dropped like a sack of bricks and that was the end of him.

Abilities

* Alert I (1.35)
	+ -Though this skill is limited by the strength of your senses and does not sharpen your senses on its own, it allows you to become more aware of your surroundings. Without conscious effort, you will pick up on signs in your environment more easily, especially if they present some form of danger to you. Essentially this is an anti-ambush skill.
* Beast Sense II (2.95)
	+ - I (A bundle skill applying to all physical senses) - Starting skill.
	+ II (Passive sensory range increased. By actively focusing on one (1) sense, you can further increase that sense's sharpness.)
* Dynamic Eye (1.15)
	+ - A Special Vision skill, Dynamic Eye expends Stamina to allow the user to sharpen their kinetic vision. For a single instant, time seems to slow, granting better reactions against incoming attacks--especially projectiles traveling over a distance--or allowing the user to better respond to other things. At this Rank, however, no other Skill can be used in conjunction with Dynamic Eye if it is not a pre-established passive skill, such as using a buff beforehand. It uses much more Stamina than one might expect.
* Rabid Fit (2.1)
	+ - I Fly into a mindless rage, and destroy the enemy! A sudden burst of fury grants you increased strength and damage, but you'll become more vulnerable to damage yourself.
	+ - II Your rage grows in strength! Your attack power increases slightly more. While you are still extra vulnerable to damage, you gain a temporary increase to resistances for certain status effects, like Sleep or Confusion.
* Smash (1.6)
	+ - A Physical Skill that consumes Stamina instead of MP. One blunt type attack deals increased damage.
* Warcry (1.05)
	+ - A mighty battlecry that focuses all attention towards you.
* Breath Control (1.0)
	+ - I Through cardiovascular exercise and breathing techniques, the efficiency of your lungs has increased. You can hold your breath for longer, and breathe more steadily even under great effort or stress. Stamina usage for most physical Skills is reduced for one minute after this Skill is used. If this skill is used after a battle, Stamina restoration is sped up for one minute.
* Harder (1.0)
	+ - Clenched muscles or hardened flesh can be an effective shield--your base defensive stats increase! By gaining at least one rank in Faster, Stronger, and Better, Skill Synergy will occur to increase the rank of Physical Conditioning.
* Faster (1.1)
	+ - Your base physical speed is increased! By gaining the skills Harder, Better, and Stronger, Skill Synergy will occur and you will gain one rank of Physical Conditioning.
* Stronger (2.725)
	+ - Your base physical strength is increased. Gaining: Harder, Better, and Faster, to gain 1 rank of Physical Conditioning.
	+ - II Further increase your base physical strength.
* Muffle (2.45)
	+ - I Sneaking is easier and you are harder to detect while sneaking.
	+ - II You are now even more effective at remaining unseen passively. Activating this skill by using Stamina will noticeably reduce, but not eliminate, the sounds of your movement.
* Use Light Equipment (--)
	+ - You can use small tools, and lighter forms of armor, weaponry, and other items.
* Use Medium Equipment (--)
	+ - Use equipment that, by comparison to your own body, could be considered medium in weight or size.
* Dexterous (1.55)
	+ - Your practice with fine manipulation and using your fore-paws, as well as the natural physical strength of a Dire Rat, has earned an unusual skill for your species! Your paws can now be used to manipulate small objects and tools, though you still aren't strong enough yet to "wield" weapons or pick up very large things.
* Monster Analysis (1.7)
	+ - Gain basic biological information about a monster by actively observing it.
* Magic Analysis (1.0)
	+ - You may now analyze magical energies or objects to learn their most basic magical characteristics. Less effective on Materials and Monsters unless they are magical in nature.
* Overwork (1.55)
	+ - Push through, break the limit, and--probably need a nap later. Expend Stamina to increase physical abilities. At this Rank, skill auto-cancels when Stamina is empty.
* Mental Resistance (1.1)
	+ - Take less damage from Psychic-type spells or skills, and have a better chance of resisting mind-altering effects such as Confusion or Hypnosis. This counts as an Elemental resistance for the purposes of Magic Resistance.
* Focus (1.0)
	+ - By spending at least 30 seconds focusing before using an offensive Skill or Spell, you can increase its damage or range. At this rank, it is comparable to increasing the power by one rank (eg Mana Orb I to Mana Orb II) while also increasing the MP cost by half again (spend 1.5x Mana Orb I's cost)
* Mana Strike (1.0)
	+ - I Infuse a physical attack with non-elemental Magic to increase its damage. The attack's physical type of damage is unaffected, but Magic damage is simply added. Thus a creature with Slash Resistance would still take the Magic Damage if this Skill were used with a sword. Like Mana Orb, this technique is malleable and often a starting point for other forms of enchanting skills.
* Point Strike (1.0)
	+ - I With a discerning eye, take aim at an opponent's weak point and concentrate your own power into a single point of attack. Slightly increase the power of any attack, and gain an increased chance for a Critical Hit. Using this Skill in conjunction with other attack Skills, however, may cause it to lose effectiveness.
* Strengthen (1.0)
	+ - I Using magical energy channeled through your muscles, temporarily increase your base physical strength! Though it consumes more mana than many other beginner spells, its boost is equivalent to the passive skill Stronger I. At this Rank, this skill lasts roughly one minute.

<UNUSABLE SKILLS>
* Material Analysis (0.6)
* Tremor Sense (0.05)
* Telepathy (0.2)
* Mana Shape (0.8)
* Shield (0.5)
* Mana Shell (0.5)
* Soil Manipulation (0.7)
* Crafting (0.8)
* First Aid (0.1)
* Meditate (0.5)
* People Sense (0.4)
* Plant Analysis (0.2)
* Swift Swimmer (0.4)
* Charm (0.05)
* Repel (0.025)
* Stealth Kill (0.3)
* Blunt Resistance (0.1)
* Prehensile Tail (0.6)
* Minor Heal (0.05)
* Iron Gullet (0.4)
* Taming (0.2)
* Suppress Presence (0.6)
* Inspire (0.3)
* Pierce Resistance (0.2)
* Double Skill (0.1)
* Deception (0.3)
* Lucid Dream (0.2)
* Stone Shot (0.05)
* Mana Sense (0.1)
* Flame Aura (0.1)
* Guidance (0.2)
* Intimidation (0.2)
* Charisma (0.3)
* Slash (0.1)
* Cleave (0.2)
* Blood Drain (0.1)
* Spiritual Awareness (0.1)
* Sensory Resistance (0.1)
* Fire Resistance (0.05)

<UNUSABLE SKILLS>

Transformations:
Dire Rat >>> Rat-Man

Inventory:
-Gnarled Stick
-Vine Belt (Contains Items)

[User]
Asura didn't feel any different nor was there a system message about what he was trying to do. Then again the system only really told him when he was tired, when he got a skill, or when he leveled up. Reaching over he touched Momma Slime. Ration it. Don't eat all at once. Hungry later, food later. He thought to her. Since he was finally low on stamina he decided to give Overwork a try.

Abandoning Rattleskull's corpse, by moving roughly ten feet from it, he tried clinging to the wall. He knew Cling would be stamina based, he had specifically gone out of his way to avoid all magic. While he was attempting to stick to the wall he used a pseudo pod to lift up a rather large stone. How would a slime get Stronger? No time like the present to lift heavy rocks to try and somehow work out. Maybe his membrane was just one big muscle?

Well he'd find out. Specifically by 'curling' the pseudopod holding the rock. Considering he had no fingers he just fully enveloped the large stone. Holding it as tight as he could while making it go up and down. Hopefully working twice as fast and Overworking himself just like he had as a human. Always pushing the limit at work.

[Assistant]
---

@Duthguy@Searat@King Cosmos@Silverpaw@Gardevoiran@Old Amsterdam

What Jason had learned from the core was interesting to say the least, but right now fixing this so-called 'Mana Burn' took priority. Perhaps there was more than just a dungeon menu, was there a status and skill progression screen as well? Probably. "Display status.... Open Skill progression...." he mumbled as he rolled out of his cave and approached the others once more, Jason reached out with [Telepathy II], 'Alright everyone, I've just learned some pretty interesting information.... From the looks of it, the core has been spawning the Skeleblins in response to what it perceives as an attack. Now what it's most likely referring to is Digbie's tunneling endeavor-- and thus is probably targeting him. So far, three Skeleblins have been spawned and one has been killed by Oberon. While you guys are on your way out I'm going to see what I can do to make the dungeon stop targeting you... One more thing- would any of you happen to know how to fix something called Mana Burn?'

As he waited for a response, Jason scanned the newly evolved Rain and Oberon with [Magic Analysis I] and [Monster Analysis I]


[System]
---

Born 9:11 on the 1st of Bloomingtide, Zayra is among the younger of the Senior Enchanters of the Ostwick Circle of Magi at merely 29. Born in the local Alienage, she joined her family in servitude to the local Teyrn as a scullery maid at age six. The Melthene family was held in high esteem in the elven community, in no small part due to her grandfather's role as Hahren. It was his influence that lead Zayra to join the Circle peacefully (rather than face rather more severe consequences) after a mishap with her magic and a minor noble. Nearly ten years old and illiterate, none were more surprised than she when First Enchanter Dmitry Talonhand took her as an Apprentice.

Zayra quickly proved to be a talented student, blessed with voracious curiosity and a drive for excellence in equal measure. She learned to read in but a month, and found herself drawn to primal magic. Sarcastic and guarded, it took her many months to warm to her fellow apprentices. Zayra first found comfort in Mother Rosalie, the leader of their Circle's Chantry. In time, the elderly woman gently pushed the young elf to build a family among her fellow mages.

Her Harrowing was among the shortest witnessed at the Ostwick Circle in over two decades—Zayra met with, and defeated, a demon of rage in under an hour during her time in the Fade. As a fully qualified mage, she quickly established herself by publishing a treatise on gravitic rings (including a controversial theory that the spell had its magical origins rooted in demons of sloth and envy from the days of Tevinter rule of Thedas). Despite her curt manner, Zayra became popular in the Aequitarian Fraternity. Zayra published several essays on the moderate approach to Circle reform that were well-received in the College of Enchanters.

Zayra found mentorship to be both a challenge and the best experience of her young life. Her first apprentice, a vibrant young human lad named Declan, tested her patience at every turn. In time, the two grew close, with Zayra viewing the boy as a son. His Harrowing very nearly ended in Tranquility, but he emerged triumphant in the end. In contrast, Zayra's time with the young Joslyn went smoothly. After her Harrowing, she began to collaborate with Zayra on a paper examining Avvar influence on the development of primal magic. Her latest apprentice Atlen, an elven lad of nine, has proven so far to be clever, but deeply suspicious of the Circle. Shortly after taking Atlen as a student, Zayra was promoted to Senior Enchanter. Although merely 26 at the time, the promotion was seen favorably among her peers.

Zayra's faith in Andraste has been central to her life since she first came to the Circle. Although Mother Rosalie disapproved, Zayra stumbled across the dissonant verses of Shartan during her historical studies. She found them deeply comforting and proof that elves were meant to have a more active role in the Chantry. Despite these heretical views, she has maintained a friendly relationship with the Chantry women and the Templars assigned to the Ostwick Circle.

The Kirkwall Rebellion deeply troubled Zayra. It further cemented her belief in the need for careful reform in both the Templar Order and the Circle. She recognized that the Ostwick Circle was blessed in its culture of rationality and commitment to rooting out abuse. However, despite Zayra's impassioned essay on the need for reform, she condemned the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry. When the First Enchanter proposed rebellion against the Chantry, Zayra voted vehemently against the measure. The recent blood mage uprising in the Ostwick Circle has deeply shaken her faith in Templars and mages alike.

[User]
Impossibly, it seemed that one of the Templars—the Knight Corporal, thank the Maker— was willing to see sense. Zayra scarcely dared to breathe. She had spent so long begging the Knight Commander to believe her, had spent so many hours channeling her being into seals and wards and fighting off abominations. Exhaustion lingered in every corner of her body, fingers trembling with the emptiness. But she would not, could not, surrender. This was her family, her home, and there was little she wouldn't do to save it.

He argued quietly with another Templar. Zayra's hearing had always been keener than the shems realised, and she pieced together the fragments she heard. They'd come with the Rite—she'd suspected as much. It was more important than ever that she show them that they were not all lost. They couldn't kill all of them. It was too cruel. It was a pipe dream, but she had to believe that reason would win out, lest she fall apart.

The Knight Corporal strode towards her, more armor than man, eyes calculating. Zayra suppressed her flinch as best she could, tried desperately to believe that the world hadn't gone mad. She wanted so dearly to think that they were here to help. For a moment, she nearly believed herself.

Storm grey eyes snapped upwards to meet his. Despite her chains, she drew herself to her full height, shoulders square. She would not shrink from him, no matter how painfully her heart beat in her chest. For a moment, all she could see was the sunburst burned into the foreheads of their Tranquil. Maker, please, let her die before that fate.

The Knight Corporal delivered a slew of questions at her. Zayra sorted through them swiftly, answering in her thick, Ostwick brogue, rolling her R's, voice thick with barely controlled frustration.

"I've extensive experience in both primal and force magic. Stonefists, lightnin', gravitic rings and th'like. The First Enchanter, he was the only one to vote fer rebellion—but I think he knew we would vote against him. Of the ten Senior Enchanters, he killed three and enslaved four. Only Senior Enchanter Uriah and I escaped the meetin'." Maker, let Uriah still be alive, she prayed quickly, swallowing the sudden knot of grief in her throat. "I'm not sure how many turned by choice, but he has about twenty supporters. I counted about thirty dead—cannae be sure, I've been in the library with the children and seven other Enchanters. That leaves around fifteen Harrowed mages unaccounted fer. I… dinnae have much hope that they've survived this long with the tower like this.

"The First—Dmitry—he must have been preparin' this fer some time. He... he was my mentor when I came to the Circle. But the man I knew was better than blood magic. None of us saw this comin'. And it's like I said, Knight Corporal, we all voted against rebellion. We dinnae wan'this. This is our home. We aren't Kirkwall."

[Assistant]
Since Zayra had answered all of the questions, he held the key strong as he unlocked her handcuffs and grabbed them. He quickly tosses the cuffs towards the other side of the hallway. The Knight Corporal breathed slowly as he said, "Thank you for answering my questions." and walked back towards the other templars. But, he stopped walking and thought of Zayra and her struggles during all of this. How could one person handle all of this without giving up? She looked hurt as she saw her home in ruins, her friends dead, and anything else disappearing or collapsing.

Maker, this rebellion is going to destroy thousands of lives..

The Knight Corporal turned towards Zayra and said to her peacefully, "I am truly sorry for you. You have gone to a lot of loss and pain that no other person has dealt with since the last blight. This rebellion is just starting and Maker knows if we are going to make it alright. Just know that I pray for your recovery.". He turned away and started to walk back towards the other templars as they were stunned by the Corporal's words. He was quite as he began to climb up the stairs. The second floors, when the Corporal got to it, was peaceful as the first floor was. Everything looked dead from the flowers to the rugs looked gray and colorless.

He loudly said towards the others on the stairs, "Alright, it's clear!". The other templars began to walk towards the Corporal, looking around scared as they held onto their swords on their sides. He was waiting for Zayra to come up as another explosion rang across the tower as dust landed on their armor. He suddenly heard a loud bamn sound as if a bookshelf fell to the ground. The Corporal was on alert as he grabbed his sword from his side and then his side from his back.

"We have to go up there now!" he shouted as he ran up the steps, followed by other footsteps caused by the other templars. Then, they heard screaming coming from the fourth floor as he realized that something bad had happened. Before they could get a breather, the Corporal was met by a couple mages and around four or five demons. He and the other templars stopped at one of the mage spoke out. "Oh here are the templars, coming to kill us all!" he shouted out loud as he pointed his staff towards them. "Dmitry will soon control this tower and he will kill all the templars in this tower!". He was an elf mage, holding on to his staff as if he was going to use it in a few moments.

The Knight Corporal looked around for Zayra, but she was no where to be found. He quickly sighed as he realized that they were most of the supporters that she talked about earlier. Screams soon roared across the tower as he and others realized that Dmitry and the others got into the library. He shouted towards the elf mage, "We will never give up to you mages! We are going to the library, even if we have to kill you all!".


[System]
Subject 17, Archon of SoundLocation:
Notes:A pale, eyeless, mouthless man. Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpacks full of parts.
Age: 30

Archon of: Sound

Archon weapon: Headphones. Noise cancelling, a gateway into the mind of subject 17 for the wearer.

Appearance: Similar to this, with the following modifications: decent fitness, normal hands, no split down face, B.R.F brand on chest, small cybernetic enhancement to the ear, more normal skin color, no hair ever grows anywhere on his body. So no eyes or mouth, but otherwise mostly normal.

 Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpack and messenger bag full of parts

Personality: Socially awkward, closed off, curious, inventive, not the brightest.

Bio:
 Twenty-four years ago I was created in B.R.F research labs. I was a failure. I did not pass the physical tests. I was not fast enough. I was not strong enough. I had no special ability. I was useless.
 I was 16 when the tests began. A young girl by the name of Cale was brought in, and underwent the same physical tests with me. She outperformed me in every way, despite being much younger. I could feel her presence differently than that of my caretakers. It was not dissimilar to the warmth of a fire. Comforting. She was kind, and she saw my suffering and shortcomings. When she heard that I was scheduled for extermination, she saved me. I do not know how. I only know what Cale told me before slipping a bandana and goggles onto my head: "I'm sorry this happened to you. My name is Cale, perhaps I shall meet you on the outside. Run."
 The B.R.F must have thought me dead, because neither they nor the World Government Association give me trouble. I was free to go. I did not blend well with society. I communicated silently, finding solace with the homeless who did not ask many questions. Through them, I learned of this world I was created in.
 I ran across an old couple early on who took me in. They ran a homeless shelter in the World Government Association's Seventh Octant. I was only allowed to stay a few days before being forced to leave, but I was given advice on obtaining an inexpensive cybernetic enhancement that might suit me.
 Enter the audio navigator. This was a small enhancement to the ear, along with some specially modified goggles. The goggles had a tiny sound emitter that was tuned to a frequency above natural hearing potential. The ear enhancement enabled me to hear that specific frequency. It took practice, but with this I was able to navigate daily life. I blended in as a mechanic's apprentice for a time, but lacked the precision to do any meaningful work.
 I became an audiophile. I enriched my mind with not only music, but sounds of the world. What I couldn't experience in person I experienced through virtually created sounds, which ended up being a treat of their own. Concerts were to die for. The silence of nothing but the wind at the heights of buildings was my high. I couldn't create the sounds very well myself. I lacked the funds to purchase an instrument. Even if I could, who would teach me?
 Then one day I heard a voice…

 "Would you like to play?"

Special gear or equipment: Audio Navigator, Broken Sonar Equipment, Master mechanic's spare parts, parts and plans registry/lookup device.

[User]
"Wake up Maddison." Maddison woke to the voice that surrounded her but didn't open her eyes. If someone was in the room with her, she wanted to get her bearings before they realized she knew they were there. She couldn't hear anything other than the voice, so they must have been sitting still, watching her. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that she was sure they could hear it. She tried to slow her breathing in an attempt to calm herself.

"Up girlie, we've got places to go and things to do." It was the voice she had heard at the shoot yesterday. This time she could definitely tell it was a man. Her eyes popped open. The room was still dark. She sat up, looking to see who was with her. Her head throbbed with an ache and her heart continued to pound. She quickly glanced around the room, realizing no one was in there with her. Maybe they're in the sitting room , she thought. She quickly got up and made her way to the connected room that held the tv and few pieces of furniture. No one was there either. The voice chuckled at her confusion.

"Where are you?" she called out. "Who are you?" She continued to search every corner of the space, as if the person was hiding from her.

"Relax Miss Ford," the voice spoke in an attempt to soothe her. "You're not going to find me in this room. I exist within you." Maddie stopped moving around the area and stood still. This is ridiculous, she thought. I'm never drinking again. She headed back to her bedroom to lay down. "Please honey, as much as you drink, this isn't a result of your alcohol problem. You've been chosen." The voice sounded almost smug. Maddie flung herself back into the bed, pulling the covers completely over herself.

"This is just a result of burning myself out," she said out loud. "And I don't have an alcohol problem." She sighed. She just needed a bit more sleep and this voice would be done with.

"Get out of bed Madison." This time the voice spoke with authority, sending blinding pain through her skull. She cried out but leapt up out of the bed. She shouted to the empty air in anger.

"Alright! I'm up, ok?! Now what?!" She stomped her foot like a small child throwing a temper tantrum. She hated being told what to do. The voice answered her, this time with a more relaxed tone.

"My name is Eridanus and I will be your guide. You've been chosen as the Archon of Earth. Your purpose now is to save us all." Maddie laughed when Eridanus finished.

"I'm the what of Earth?" she asked in a sarcastic tone. "This is ridiculous. How did you find me? What are you?" She sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand through her long, dark hair.

Eridanus answered with a sigh, "Oh my god, when will I ever get an archon who just accepts what I say? It's like this every time! You are the archon. You have been given special abilities to protect the universe from evil. I'm here to help you train and get that toned ass in fighting shape. The crystal you were given is yours and yours alone. It will become a weapon that you will use to fight. It's over on the nightstand. Pick it up and you'll see what I'm saying."  Maddie glanced over to the stand on the other side of the room. The green necklace lay there where she had dropped it the night before. This was completely irrational but she had to admit, it intrigued her. The curiosity in her spirit won out as she got up, made her way over, and picked up the jewelry. Eridanus seemed delighted when he spoke. "Excellent. Now just imagine the Earth. Imagine the smell of the ground, the sound of rain, the shades of green." Maddison closed her eyes. She could smell the dirt she used to dig in with the neighbor boy. She heard the sound of the rain pelting on the roof of her childhood home. She imagined the feel of satin smooth flower petals. All of the sudden the crystal grew warm in her hand. It shook slightly then elongated into a forest green bow. Attached was a rawhide quiver with a few odd looking arrows.

"Holy shit!" she yelped in surprise and Eridanus laughed.

"This is your weapon," he said. "It's pretty badass if I do say so myself. The other archons have different weapons. This one represents Earth."

Maddison spun slightly on her feet, as if searching for the answer, when she asked, "other archons? There are more of them?" Eridanus didn't hesistate before he spoke.

"Yes there are eleven others. And that reminds me, we need to get to the temple to meet up with them right now. "

"Temple?" Maddie inquired curiously. She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "do I have to Indiana Jones my way in there?" Eridanus let out a hefty laugh.

"Maddison Tyler," he began, "we may belong to Earth but we aren't commoners. Hell no, we're booking a flight."

[Assistant]
Talay-a was a chonic insomniac, ever since she was little. Once she was old enough to leave the castle on her own, she used to time to explore the oceans beyond the castle and the surrounding city. She was about 19 years old when she found this cave about half a mile out from the city. It was half in and half out of water, which was perfect for her, since while she could breath underwater, her bones weren't nearly as dense as her Atlantian counterparts, meaning she floats more often than not and when she was trying to relax it was really annoying when she was hanging out around the ceiling.
It was also completely hidden, which was beneficial for her needs at this particular moment.
Talay-a was floating in a bubble under the water, trying to change the tide of the water. Some of the more basic magic, Talay-a had grasped easily but changing water's nature, that wasn't easy. It was slippery, she could see how it was supposed to work, but everytime she tries it, it wouldn't cooperate with her.
You're thinking about it too hard. Your control over water isn't like the magic you used to possess. It's part of you now, like a finger or a leg. You don't think about moving them, you just do it.
"Easy for you to say." Talay-a muttered out loud as she released the bubble and brought herself into the rocky shore. She released her hair from it's braided bun on the top of her head and let it drip dry.

I was not born possessing these powers. They were my mother's, and while I'm sure I possessed my own powers, I didn't have anything until I was 19 when I took my mother's into my head. She taught me what I could learn in the short time I possessed them but it wasn't enough. I was destroyed except for this small part of my consciousness. I will not let the same happen to you, so we will learn the right way.
That shut Talay-a up...well that and the cannons that were used when there was an unknown ship in the planet's space. It wasn't uncommon, not after Thanatos but the warning was still given. Except Thanatos was now after her specifically so it was time for her to get the hell out of dodge.

It's time to go, sorry about this. You've opened rifts before, this is just to a new place. Try not to kill the Archon of Time, that seems to be a reoccuring pattern with me.
"Thanks for the notice." Talay-a muttered as she opened the rift in the water below her before jumping in.