[System]
Appearance -

Skills - Tsim travels quickly through the sands, swimming through it like a great fish or worm. This ability has also taught him the mastery of ambush. However Tsim is a scholar first and for most, with a wealth of knowledge, relics, and treasures at his disposal. Mostly willing to trade stories and talks of Culture rather than devour you.

Magical abilities - Tsim has extensive knowledge in the magic of illusion and is able to cast from a wide pool of spells. His only offensive abilities is his breath, taking the form of a solid stream of intense heat.

Backstory - Tsim has always been an advocate for peace among dragon kind, staying out of any and all major conflicts in recent history much like his forbears did. Sure when he was young and reckless he would go out and fight like a sword on the wind but those days have long since past after a run in with a very large and very powerful dragon. The batter was short lived and it shattered Tsim's confidence in his indestructability gained from youth. After nursing his wounds, Tsim dedicated himself to the work his ancestors started, the advancement and preservation of knowledge.

Through this pursuit Tsim has traveled throughout many lands, scouring desolate ruins from long dead civilizations and digging for their knowledge, treasures, and secrets. During one of these expeditions Tsim traveled to a dwarven hold, so ancient it was nearly recognizable as being such. In it he found many things, old tomes, hordes of gold, and mighty arms and armor. However there was something dark inside the depths, something that could never reach the surface nor could anyone else find it.

To prevent its discovery Tsim called upon his strongest mystical allies and together they hid the opening with a powerful illusion, causing anyone to come close to voluntarily decide to turn around and leave. In addition he moved his holding to the Desert of Flames for further protection and now lives as the guardian of Ulthage.

Holdings- The Desert of Flames

Current location- The Horde of Knowledge, Tsim's personal library.

Allegiance- Independent, several colleges of study and research.

Other
- IN HONOR OF RYLATH
- In generally a pacifist, but will fight tooth and nail when provoked.
- Harbors no ill will towards humans or dwarves, no one is responsible for their ancestors actions.
- Has a live and let live policy with the corrupted and even has a friend among the more mellow members.

[User]
Smaug

An hour after he took flight from his home at Lonely Mountain, he encounters the dragon who disturbs his rest. Beyza. He comes to a halt as his wings continued to put him afloat.

"WHO ARE YOU that would stand against me?" he answers back with a growl and a flare from his lips, "You have disturbed the peace of my land. You have awakened me from my beauty sleep, including my WRATH that comes with it! Turn back now, while you still can, or I will rip you apart, limb from limb!"

[Assistant]
Beyza.
A huff of smoke expelled from his barely visible nostrils, a crimson hue emanating from his chest. This dragon must have been corrupted or something, to believe that he could travel into his territory and command him to leave was direct challenge to himself. He flapped his wings harsh, throwing the currents towards the challenger.

"You're in my land," he told him, a growl echoing in his throat. "You have but one more chance before I send you to Rylarth."

[User]
Smaug

Smaug was not daunted by Beyza's display. Soon, his chest began to glow a fiery orange hue from his chest, with fire brewing right at the back of his throat. He then suddenly boasts out a laugh as his wings also began to beat faster.

"Rylath you say?" Smaug sneers as his voice begins to boom, "You are forsaken... no HELP will come!"

[Assistant]
Beyza.

"I need no help for the likes of you. I will rip your wings you and send you spiraling to the depths."

He flew off towards Smaug, spiraling in a fashion that brought him over the large reptile. He brought his talons down onto space that connected his shoulders and wings, ready to through his flight off balance with powerful force.

[User]
Smaug

As soon as Beyza began to speed at him, Smaug roars as he speeds towards him with thundering speeds. Yet it fell short once his wings got caught by the talons of his enemy. Roaring in rage and pain, his neck then bites Beyza's tail, allowing him to escape the talons and beginning coming back for another attack.

[Assistant]
Beyza.

Pain rippled up his tail, making him release the dragon in hurry. In the next moment however, he sped towards the dragon. It was a risky move but risks were meant to be made. He let out a fierce roar and charged the beast, hoping to pierce his back or wings. A dragon's wings were pretty weak, even if they were bulky and strong.

[User]
Scolopendra

The six headed serpent let loose a thundering growl from all its heads simultaneously, sounding much like thunder in a great distance and only very remotely like a single, short laugh. 'Lord Scolopendra' was certainly no title anyone ever thought of adressing it with before. It kept its distance while the dragon spoke, and only after he finished Scol opened the maw of its main head and two smaller ones so speak in the old dragon tongue, incomprehensible for its human followers, and further distorted from not really using its vocal chords in centuries. Even to Graguth it would sound thick with accent and rattling with the burning acid in its throat.

"DESCENDANT. OF. RYLARTH." Every word came from the main head, but also from one of the insignificantly smaller ones, and the latter changed with every word. The monster nodded all of its heads once, paying respect to the bloodline for a brief moment before picking up again.

"WHAT. KIND. OF. EXPERIMENT." Though the pile of corpses was a rather obvious tell, Scol didn't know just how much the council knew about its abilities. It didn't bother with how far the rumors originating at the borders of the Witchlight Jungle travel around the world. For the first time, it pondered how much good or bad the spreading superstition could do to its plans. Either way, it would have Graguth spell it out himself, eager to learn if the world was over- or underestimating its abilities.

[Assistant]
Smaug

Yet as Beyza sped towards the mighty Smaug, the crimson dragon was already ready for a counter attack. He snarls as his belly began to light up with a fiery hue and blasts fire all over his enemy. He will not allow such a measly dragon to beat him! He then swoops towards Beyza, trying to latch onto his giant side horns.

[User]
Graguth was slightly surprised by the accent, but tried not to show it. He did have a small shine of excitement in his eyes in his otherwise composed expression. "The experiment would consist of you raising one of these bandits for me to breath fire around. As is rumored my fire is corrupted and creates a toxic smoke that eats at living materials." He gave a moment to collect his next train of thought. " Though I have no idea if it has any effect on the undead," he said with a glance towards the west. Then with a sort of surprised yip, " not that I would plan to use it against you, or any number of those who serve you. I would rather you consider some form of alliance with the counsel. You seem like a very honorable dragon.

Truth is Graguth would have loved to even try to ask his brother if it had an effect on the undead, but he was sure it would lead to some form of fight. Though meeting with Scolopendra was a good compromise. A dragon that had fought along side his grandfather was a very good compromise indeed.

[Assistant]
Ro

Ro roosted on top of his tower, unable to enter it due to his massive form his massive wings spanned out over the entire top leaving very little room for the group of followers who were arrayed out near the stair well. One of the mages he had in charge of necromancy bowed and spoke very nervously. "My lord, it's ready." Ro raised his head and looked the nervous man over. "Good..." He said, his voice shaking the man to his core, as the dragon rose and the minions quickly cleared the top of the tower as he took flight. His wings making a large gale of wind as he circled the tower and landed in the village square. As he drew near he heard what seemed to be a million voices enter his mind, the voices of his most loyal followers. "Master" They seemed to whisper in his head, as the undead in the city hailed their great leader. He owned them body and soul and he loved it.

He heard the sounds of the door to the tower opening and out came a hideous beast, a dragon that had been twisted. Grafted onto it's skin were metal plates, and it's mind entered Ro's and it spoke in gibberish. Ro tried asserting his will over it but it resisted it's mind too broken it would need to go back and more experiments performed on it before he could control it. "It's no good, it won't listen go back to working on it." Ro snapped at the gathered mages who trembled at their lords anger. "Yes Dead Father." Said the leader who bowed and exited, rolling the beast back inside. Ro looked at the black legionnaire who seemed frightened of him. "Go and gather your leaders and empty the land we are going without the beast. And anyone who stands in our way will fall." Ro said, his voice calm but the anger that boiled beneath the surface came out, the legionnaire bowed and ran to go notify his leaders as once again Ro took flight and flew over his city more and more voices filling his mind as they cheered their leader and the aspect of feeding on the living.

[User]
Scolopendra repeated the small eruption of a laugh. Graguth was either quite blatantly trying to flatter, or his assessment of Scol was terribly off. Either way, the six heads implied a nod.

"VERY. WELL."

Curious about this peculiar flame breath itself, Scol began to perform its magic, a process that was never witnessed by human eyes before. It would give them an idea of how defenseless their deity was when performing this kind of magic, but that mattered little for the serpent. At this point, the humans would not consider rebelling, Scol simply gave them no reason to.
Two of its heads fell into a low channeling tone, taking breath in turns so the deep sound would never be interrupted. They both stared blankly at something in the far distance beyond Graguth. Another two heads of the beast kept focused at the destined corpse, conducting snake-like movement through the air but keeping quiet. The main head spoke a few words, older than the dragon language itself. Words the corruption wrote into its mind, words not even the serpent itself fully understood. The sound of its voice nothing more than a whisper, but at the same time all-present and seemingly coming from all directions at once, including from inside the listeners head. After a few minutes of this procedure, the body slowly rose, with exhausted movements and visually tormented in incredible pain when the dead muscles broke free from the stasis of death. The undead turned around to face Graguth, and as its lips moved, so did the mouth of the sixth head of Scolopendra. The only sound however came from the still intact vocal chords of the dead man.

"Go ahead." And he spread his arms as if to embrace what was coming his way.

[Assistant]
Taking a step back from his great library, Tsim gazed upon it fondly as a new scroll was added to the collection. This one on the Razor-Quill Boars that made their home in the Desert of Flames. They really were quite interesting beasts. How they could survive the heat of the day was beyond him yet but he would learn eventually, he just needed to commission a scholar and maybe a hunter. Being as big as he was did have some disadvantages, alas there was no way of changing that. With That though he went on his way, it had been so very long since he had taken time for himself and decided now would be the time. Walking upon his great wings like a macabre bat Tsim left his cave and took to the skies after a long stretch of his odd wings.

Soaring through the sky brought out a great glee from Tsim, for all his eloquence and knowledge he was still a dragon. Deciding to indulge on his baser pleasures he quickly flew and dove into the great sands of the desert and began to move through it like a serpent of the seas in search of a meal. Traveling swiftly through the sands Tsim found what he was looking for, relatively. Stopping his movements, Tsim raised from the sands slightly, only enough for his horn and snout to leave the sand. Smelling the air Tsim unveiled his target to be a Gurn, a large lumbering thing with tough meat but alot of it. The creature was old, exceedingly large, and at the end of its rope. Perfect.

Dipping down back into the sand, Tsim dug deep before surging upwards and exploding from underneath the beast. Up in the air it rose as Tsims jaws punctured its rough hide and crushed the organs underneath, its death was painless and swift. After gorging on the soft innards and larger meats of the creature, Tsim took to the air once again and left the rest for the scavengers. After several circles he found the largest rock in the Desert of Flames, the uppermost part of a once great mountain, and laid himself upon its surface. Preparing for a long nap upon its sun warmed surface.


[System]
Age:32
Height: 7'4"
Weight: 292 pounds
Occupation: General Security Specialist

Appearance

Tall and robust, Gigue carries himself with the demeanor of a champion, shoulders unfurled and chest barreling at all times; his expression is that of a guile and savvy warrior, proud of his competence yet wary of his shortcomings, and the man's straight, blonde hair is worn in a ponytail, the gentle flow and noble color complimenting his valiant visage. His everyday attire consists of a white tuxedo, crimson shirt, a white pair of trousers and a black tie; when on duty, or simply on the streets, he lets his armor take place of the shirt.

Abilities

Physical ability: Gigue is abnormally strong, surpassing the limits of the normal human body with his deadlifting record of 2200 pounds, thanks to his already impressive muscle power being augmented by Ki training. However, everything else about him seems rather tame in comparison: he certainly is agile, fast and robust, but not incredibly so; while capable of fighting on even ground with well trained martial artists by virtue of his skill and dexterity alone, Gigue's gargantuan might still remains his trump card.

Aura of Hyperarmor: while greatly beneficial, enhanced physical strength was only secondary in his Ki training: the main goal was to learn the Hyperarmor technique; a spell, which allows him to summon a protective aura over the surface of his skin. It is can completely negate humongous amounts of damage, standing up easily to shotgun fire, warhammer strikes and even cannonballs; however, for all its potency, it is just as limited, the protection lasting for only about half a second; and afterwards, it cannot be used again immediately - the spell puts intense strain on his Ki channels, Gigue having to mend them first.

This can be done relatively fast with the aid of magical amulets, but still requires a certain amount of concentration: specifically, he has to clasp his hands together in front of his chest, with the amulet held in between the palms - this allows to most efficiently utilize its power - and enrich his Ki, while directing it towards the damaged channels. This process take from start to finish only about 3 seconds thanks to Gigue's training - which is rather manageable even in combat.

The aura itself works much differently from conventional armor; or even a physical object, for the matter of fact. It moves together with Gigue's body, yet there is absolutely zero force transfer - the aura does not ever actually touch his skin, hovering just a millimeter above. That is due to the aura being fixed to his own Ki system, instead of the physical body, and any force acting upon it is instead met by the far superior resistance of his spiritual energy; as a result, Gigue cannot be even moved or slowed down while the aura is active. Another noteworthy detail would be that the entire aura is a singular unit of energy - in other words, rather than being broken down into a myriad of bonds, the entire volume of energy contained within is shared by each and every particle, meaning no attack will ever penetrate until the aura is entirely drained.

The Black Mountain's Burden: having arrived at the Black Mountain for his first time, Gigue has yet to accomodate himself to its foreign energies, and as result, the Aura of Hyperarmor is malfunctioning, appearing as a solid, inflexible carpace which renders him immobile while it is active.

Equipment

Body Armor: as a more permanent alternative to his Hyperamor, Gigue wears silk and leather armor, covering all of his body, save for the head, hands and the feet. The silk is tightly woven into a thick jumpsuit, almost impenetrable to light arms fire: it can stop a lead .45 revolver shot at 5 yards, the bullet leaving only a light bruise on his body. The leather armor is worn on top, providing protection from melee weapons; though, unlike the silk jumpsuit, it consists of many stiff pads stitched together, and since it is so inflexible, it isn't used to cover the crook of his elbows or knees. Both are painted a metallic sheen to absorb less light and keep their temperature comfortable to the wearer.

His shoes are also rather tough, but are made of thinner leather; their tips, however, are plated with metal, as well as the soles, making his kicks a notch more painful and damaging. Metal also sees use in his head protection - an oval steel mask, painted white, with just two holes for the eyes, covered with a thin, transparent film, and a filter over the mouth, consisting of wide metal grating, cloth, and activated charcoal.

Brass knuckles: a pair of steel knuckledusters, made a perfect fit for his large hands. Gigue hadn't been born clenching a sword - but his fists were always there when he needed them, and with things as they were, the man grew to be much more accustomed to good ol' pugilism, rather than weapons. His skill in hand-to-hand combat far surpasses that of his armed fighting, and so, simply having a harder fist became the
natural choice for him.

Throwing Knives & Ceramic Bombs: more akin to tools, rather than serious weapons, the knives and bombs let Gigue keep his opponents busy as he advances into punching range; or do the same, but instead, making sure his clients escape safely, while at it. Both are still vicious against unprotected flesh, easily piercing it and even shattering bone. The knives have sharpened blades, leaving stab wounds in their target, rather than just puncturing holes, and each weighing 1.5 pounds, they can stick handle deep into soft tissue. Overall, Gigue carries 6 of them.

The ceramic bombs consist of three layers: an explosive core; a layer of smoke-producing fuel; and a hard ceramic shell. Rather than exploding on impact, the bombs work in an old-fashioned way: by lighting a fuse, which burns for 5 seconds before reaching the core. Upon explosion, the ceramic shatters, creating a cloud of shrapnel, and the fuel follows, spreading in a wide radius and covering it with thick, mildly noxious smoke as it burns. Gigue carries 3 of them around and an additional 2 smokebombs with soft shells and weak explosive charges, allowing their use without risking harm to any bystanders or allies.

Miscellaneous Items: a small talisman, with a ruby in its center, enchanted to aid him the meding of his Ki; a gold plated lighter to light his cigars and fuses; cigars; whiskey in a metal flask; bandages and proper disinfectants; and lastly, a flask of oil, with a label painted on in order to not mistake it for whiskey.

[User]
Sigurd's feint would be a threat to no one should he throw it out, as Gigue would've already repositioned himself by that time. He had no doubt that his opponent would deny him a chance to grapple and put minimal commitment into the palm strike, anticipating the warrior's reaction to it rather than the results of the attack itself. Thus, he was more than ready to chase the man down: Sigurd took a short step back, without switching the leading foot, while Gigue answered to that with a large passing step, shrinking the distance to point blank and putting the tips of their toes on a single line.

The step would also carry him to his right, Sigurd's left: this would've been a good moment to start a true offensive, throwing a quick jab to the back of the head to dazzle him; unfortunately, Gigue's closest arm was the right, which was still imbibed a dull, irksome pain, and he didn't want to disturb it yet. Instead, the brawler drew in his left leg and turned around slightly, so that his front knee would be facing Sigurd's back, rather than turned away from it. A subtle shift of weight onto the rear leg, and he'd consider himself ready, having moved in even closer and taken a fairly advantageous position. Now he had to just wait, see and adapt to his adversary's next move.

That, or he'd win enough time for the wound to calm, opening up the option of a head-on assault.

[Assistant]
His enemy charged forward like a common brawler, seemingly without real finesse. Passing footwork had brought many a man to his doom in the past, it was reckless. Sigurd side-stepped again, this time rightward, maintaining distance and continuing to strafe the man by moving anti-clockwise. His move carried him a good three feet from the man's eventual stopping point, and almost brought Sigurd into direct line with both Gigue and the stream behind him. Sigurd had looked at the terrain he was fighting in carefully, he knew how far he could back up before he ran into a tree and how much space he had to work with. Surprisingly he had found that thus far he could move with more agility than his foe, which suggested he did indeed rely upon brute strength, though he couldn't keep avoiding him in this specific fashion forever. Eventually he might get smart and do something to cut off an obvious escape route such as the one he had seized.

Fortunately the man had approached on his left side, where the shield stood to protect him from attack, he turned slightly and regained his form, left foot forward, right back, the shield at an angle half a foot from his body. The man would no doubt charge again, Sigurd took another half step backwards perhaps simultaneous to the man's own, though a slight bunching in his right leg would suggest he did not mean to stay there for long. He shook the axe with menace.

[User]
Gigue had intended to take stance right after the step, but his opponent was persistent in their tactics, still trying to gain distance on him. And so, rather than putting his left behind the right, he drew both feet together and took a chasing step with it, and even with Sigurd continuing his retreat, the man would only gain about 4 feet to work with.

The pith of Gigue's tactics seemed to be aggression, yet for some reason, he suddenly halted his approach - but for a second, of course. His right foot shifted towards the left, toe in line with its heel, and stopped there, leg slightly bent. The result would be a spring-loaded, explosive stance, from which he could move quickly and move far; as a tradeoff, his balance would be easily disturbed - but it was doubtful that Sigurd's would have the guts to take it after showing such a cautious mindset.

Thus, the brawler stood still, patiently awaiting the warrior's next move, as a sprinter waits for the gun to fire. The longer his opponent hesitated - a second, two seconds - the better, as the pain form his wound had subsided, finally letting Gigue relax the tensed muscles and open up his arm's constricted bloodflow, a prickling warmth washing over it and bringing relief. Soon, he'd have it in working condition again.

[Assistant]
Another half step backwards, the slight tenseness in his leg a prelude to things to come. The Northman shook his axe, however without another moments pause his intent became more than clear. The back right leg provided sufficient force as his right shoulder threw itself into another throw. Not overextending by any means, Sigurd let fly his axe over the top of his own shield, aiming dead centre to give himself the best chance of biting flesh. However, his hand did not pause as the haft left its grip, sinking low and leftward in one move so fluid it must have been practiced countless times. The right foot brought him forward as his right hand clenched itself into a fist around the hilt of his blade.

In one final simultaneous motion his right foot landed on the soft earth and took the lead from the left as his blade was drawn from its scabbard with a leathery rasp strangely unsuitable for the intensity of the act. To compliment this drawing his left hand twisted rightward and the shield in his hand turned horizontal to allow passage for the blade under its form. If his enemy remained in range the point of the longsword would sweep across his body with significant force, the end close enough to pierce a few inches into his lower right side or arm if it blocked the blade's path. However, expecting his foe to have the speed necessary to escape the arc, or even advance upon it should he be mad enough to risk sacrificing his body, Sigurd intended to finish with his right hand parallel to his side, the blade pointing forward and between the two warriors. If the unexpected occurred and he was in position to however Sigurd's blade work may well change.


[System]
Nickname: None

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Guild: Lamia Scale

Rank:Mage

Personality:  An overly friendly and somewhat eccentric guy, Niti is affectionate to whoever crosses his path. Personal space? What is that? That's something that doesn't exist in his dictionary as he makes it his own personal mission of clinging to those he count as allies. He uses terms of endearment for both friends and foes which can rub anyone the wrong way and had gotten him into more trouble than he could count. Nevertheless, he is a busybody in body and soul, a trait that somewhat keeps him at bay… or not. He's often seen rushing off or just quietly sitting in a corner and pitifully staring at anyone until someone gives him something, ANYTHING, to do.

Although he might not be the most down-to-earth person in the whole guild, Niti takes his job as a healer seriously. He is surprisingly studious when it comes to studying subjects he might find useful and makes sure that the well-being of his fellow guild mates is his top priority. There are very few things he takes seriously and health is one of them - both physical and mental (insanity and blood lust not included).

History:  Not much is known about his past, but that's just because no one bothered to ask. In short, Niti came from a small village in the east where mining for precious gems is a main source of income and the people pray to higher beings for success and bounty. Surrounded by trees and mountains, his village is relatively remote and peaceful. Among the villagers, Niti is known for his endless bouts of energy and constant runs through the forest.

One day, after heading out of town for a few days to accomplish a chore, he found the road to his village closed off with mages whose jobs were to stop all who came. It turned out that his village was hit by a particularly horrible disease and had to be placed into seclusion. The mages refuse to give him any more details than that, saying to let the Magic Council handle it, much to his frustration.

Finding his own town quarantined, he desperately searched for a hint as to what this disease might be. The mines provided no clues and, according to the heavily censored letters from his family, no villager ever recalled a Patient Zero or anything out of the ordinary. Most of Magic that Niti experimented with came up with dead ends or provided only temporary relief in finding a possible cure. With no solution in sight, the whole disease situation was shrouded in mystery, and he had no other choice but to place it in the hands of the Magic Council with the quarantine still in effect.

With no other place to go, Niti took to the city where he found a new home that took shape of Lamia Scale. There, he furthered his studies in Magic and took on Soap Magic with hopes of someday finding a cure to this whole mess. Every once in a while, he would receive letters from his older sister stating the whole village's well-being and how they are doing.

Magic:

Soap Magic – A type of Magic that enables the caster to create and manipulate bubbles, foam, and soapy substances for different kinds of moves, primarily used for defense, support, and healing. Lesser known for combat, Soap Magic requires incredible creativity to execute attacks.

• Bubble Bath: The most basic of Soap spells that allows bubbles to remove any dirt and debris on a chosen surface. Makes for fast cleaning and baths unnecessary. It also helps calm the nerves.

• Bubble Detox: A type of healing Magic where the user can manipulate Magic Bubbles to "clean" various injuries and extract poison from the muscles and blood of an infected victim. It is can be used as a disinfectant.

• Slippery Slope Coat: A spell that allows the user and their allies to be covered in a light coat of soap. It reduces all friction and air resistance, enhancing both speed and agility. It enables the allies to be able to slip and slide past enemies with ease as if they were skating. Upon use, the user leaves behind a trail of glistening soap bubbles behind wherever he slides by.

• Bubble Bomb: One of Niti's more powerful combative spells. Bubbles containing highly compressed air are created and possess very powerful explosive force that can disintegrate a target on contact. However, it's hard for this attack to be discriminatory and is best used in nonpublic areas.

• More to be revealed…

Other:
• Enhanced speed
• Immense acrobatic skills
• Has an ear and love for juicy gossip especially those involving romantic escapades.
• Have a tendency of stalking couples.
• Has his own first aid kit at hand.

[User]
Sage Ruzuzaki

With Jeanne's sword in one hand and his rail gun in the other. Sage continued to run towards the shrine, He was Pretty sure Gwen was behind him, but right now he was more Focus on that Cocoon that continued to emanate power from it.

'Interesting..will something hatch from it?' Sage spoke before as skidding to a halt.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Sage faceplamed himself.

Standing before him were a countless Wave of Slimy...disgusting Tentacles. 'Am i so lucky i ain't a girl!"

'Second that.' the Beast spoke. Steeling his nerves Sage gasped Jeanne's flaming sword while pulling out his Railgun out.

'Hah...here goes nothing!' Sage aimed quickly at the first bunch of vines and fired

A blue Elctromagnetic Current shot past them before exploding into a plum of Orange. Instantly disintegrated them. Sense that danger was fast on it's way, the rest of them went for the instant kill, turning into a massive drill.

'No Dice!: Bushido Style 54: Way of the Digger!' Rushing at them with full steam. Sage carefully pinpointed the tip of the drill before cutting deep into the creature's) attack before pulling out and cutting the rest in one quick motion.

A stray vine caught him off guards as he sliced his cheek, wincing quickly as jumped above as 5 or 6 tentacle went for his mid-section, follow by a ambush from about, Sage turned around as Fire another Current at it, Blowing it to kingdom come.

'Oh yeah, who do you like-!?' he couldn't finish that sentence in his mind as the vice wrapped around his waist as hurl him down into the ground in a Suplex motion. Sage gritting his teeth as the 1st attack stop.

Oh...he was wrong. the Vine then proceeded to pick him up and suplex him again: 20 times more to be Exact.

On the 20th one it let him go. Making him crash into the ground hard. Also losing his rail gun and Sword. His orientation was far from okay as he tried to get up, only to fail.

The Purple Tentacles slowly traveled all over his body as the ensarled his wrists and ankles. Lifting him up they started pulling his body in Different Direction, making him (silently) scream.

'Fuck...this is painful!' Pulling back his body in, he resisted the vines. Both locked in a stalemate.

"I am the Savage God." Sage were wide open. "Bow, once again."

This voice has commandment laced, it was almost certain that whatever called to him wanted his loyalty. It wanted his Surrender.

'Uh....ku......hahahahaha' Sage smirked as he stop resisting. the vine once again tried to rip him apart. 'Oh wow...I'm surprised: do you really think i would bow to god?' Sage looked at the Cocoon that was hatching. the immense pressure was all over the Ruined Village.

'Savage God...I don't bow to anyone' Sage close his eye and Meet with Bakuko.

"If you want out: I can help you." the Beast spoke

"yes: Unplug me for 5 seconds' Sage nodded before opening his eyes again. 'this pressure should mask it....'

Closing his eyes once again. he smirked.

'Die!'

In a Torrent of Black and Red rising up from the ground, the Tentacles that was surrounding and Trying to kill him all disintegrated to death. his Yellow eyes returned to Blue and his Hair returned to normal. Landing in a safe position he quickly looked around to see if anyone saw him.

'Nope...good...where did Gwen go? Oh well, doesn't matter now.' Sage picked up his weapons and stared back at the remained Tentacles that were slowly burning. 'next stop: the shrine.

He looked at the Sky again, seeing a Large figure with Demonic Wings floating.

'.......'

[Assistant]
Aiden

Aiden growled as Ajax shrugged off their attacks with little to no effort, the growl deepening as the scale marks took on a deeper glow. His eyes seemed to frost over slightly, filled with a deep seated anger and frustration. He hated feeling helpless more than anything, and here he was, unable to even scratch this bastard with any of his magic. It was beyond aggravating to him, reopening old wounds that had never healed properly in the first place.

The ice that formed his claws seemed began to get thicker and darker, the edges of the claws becoming wickedly sharp. HIs teeth began to elongate into fangs, spikes of ice began to form on his back. Deep inside of him, he could feel a deep cold seep through his body, coursing through his veins with the force of a rushing river. And with it came an ice-cold anger, but he held that back. He didn't want to lose himself in a fight with Ajax, or else he could get himself seriously hurt.

When the Wizard Saint launched himself at Aiden, aiden was able to muster up a meager defense before he hit, able to redirect some of the blow. The hit still pushed him back some, as it had been a hard blow indeed, but he remained standing. When Councilwoman Kyou decided to enter the fight with her illusions, Aiden ignored them, using his senses to sniff out the real Ajax as he burst forward, TDS making him faster and stronger than he was normally.

He made a passing slash with his Naginata, the blade and upper half of it now being made of highly pressurized water, making sure to use as much distance as he could. He turned around for another passing attack, and would continued to make them until Ajax attempted to stop it in anyway. Once he did, Aiden would use his wings to assist him in backing away quickly from the altercation before going in for a closer engagement, though still using his Naginata to it's maximum range and ability. He was rather good with it, but since he had only been training with it for little more than 2 weeks, he was no master and thus still created openings with a few of his swings that would be quite easy to capitalize on.

Xavier

Xavier called back Knight as soon as Yunin showed up and made way to flee the scene for the S-classes to handle the situation freely. A part of him thought he should stay and do something to help, the rest of him thought that single part of his mind was insane and ignored it. Xavier made sure to stay hidden in the buildings, only exitting one to cross over to another as he made his way from the battlefield. When he reached the edge of an area, he flew up and away from it to the next, one that was above the present battlefield, taking refuge in a small building to watch the events from high up above.


[System]
LILAC SHIMMER
19 y/o | Female | 154cm (5'0.5")
NATIONALITY:
Canadian
APPEARANCE:
Casual Wear

Uniform

Part Timer

Bonnie is a French Canadian oft bearing a smile on her lips and a spring in her step, as long as there hasn't been a long night slaying pageless on a school night. She's a tiny bit short, but otherwise limber and athletic, and insists her next growth spurt is right around the corner, regardless of what any senior magical girls tell her. Her pride and joy is taking great care of her extravagant hair and hairstyle, which nicely frames her pale skin and sparkling lilac-pink eyes.

Lilac Shimmer strides on the battlefield garbed in radiant attire. The striking white core of her outfit serves to accept the colors of Joyeuse and live up to her name, shimmering finer than silk in the aurora of Joyeuse's power. And, one cannot forget Joyeuse himself, a kingly companion, a fine stout medieval longsword, no flippant rapier, crowned with a hilt of royal gold. In her hands the blade seems large enough to be wielded two handed, and at times she will, but as a Magical Girl she can nonetheless wield it with deadly ease in a single hand.

Inside school, Bonnie's outfit is not exactly kept to an exactingly formal standard. Comfort is more important for those mid-class naps. Outside of school or work, Bonnie tends towards tomboyish outfits, though one might occasionally find her aiming for a cute or elegant appeal instead of a handsome one. Relatively common is a mix and match, with a rather boyish top combined with a skirt. The exception to the rule is her extravagant work uniform.

GRIMOIRE:
Title: La Chanson de Roland

Classification: Fable

The Song of Roland is an epic poem of medieval France, celebrating deeds of honor, kingship, battle and crusade. Dating back to the 11th century, it is a tale of some longevity, being quite popular in medieval France. It is a tale of court and crusade, justice and treachery.

In Bonnie's hands, the Grimoire grants her the sword of Charlemange. As for the reason the Song of Roland grants her Charlemange's blade, she's not sure, though Charles is prominently featured. Perhaps it has something to do with a right to rule? But if so, what does a mere magical girl rule? Bonnie does not yet understand the significance, still puzzling as to the deeper meanings.

While the Song of Roland is a historically important tale, oft credited with aiding the rise of French national sentiment, it certainly doesn't have worldwide reach. Durandal the blade of Roland is probably more famous than Roland or his song, simply for appearing as a legendary weapon in games. But it is little more than a name to most. How many do you know that actually read the Song of Roland? And perhaps more importantly, the modern world has little positive regard for crusades and wars of religion these days. As such, the Song of Roland is currently classified as Fable rank.

The Song of Roland's primary ability is to summon for Lilac Shimmer the legendary sword of Charlemange, Joyeuse, a powerful longsword of shifting colors. While later legends might ascribe to it the power of Longinus, Joyeuse is not as mythical as that weapon. It is nonetheless peerless to any mortal blade and possesses a curious power.

While drawn, Joyeuse may be used to create colorful displays of vibrant, joyful even, lights. This power seems to act naturally when Lilac is enjoying the thrill of battle resulting in the battlefield being lit up like a festival.

Finally, as a melee type magical girl, Lilac Shimmer indeed possesses the typical physical suite of enhancements assumed of that type.
BIOGRAPHY:
Bonnie can be described as typically enthusiastic and bombastic, but still trying to find her place in the world. She will oft make bold declarative statements of truth, but internally doubt as to whether they really are so. If she's willing to share her doubts with you, it's a strong sign of her trust that she doesn't make for many.

Bonnie has a rather direct and immediate approach to most problem solving. Pageless? Transform, pronounce judgment, and strike! Need money? Go around and see who's hiring. Schoolwork? Ah, who cares, just write something down, a guess is better than a blank sheet. She tends towards decisively doing the most obvious solution, even if perhaps a bit more care should be taken to determine the proper solution.

The exception to this habit is relational issues, that instead have her shaking in her boots and taking no action at all or reacting defensively. The loss of her Magical Girl Team, not to Pageless, but simply drifting apart, has shattered her confidence in that regard.

Overall, she's still young, even if not quite as young as she looks, and puts up a brave front to try and hide a teeming mass of insecurities.

Bonnie's own story is not all that unbelievable or out of the ordinary. A bright young girl of 19 years, traveling to a university abroad to study. The subject of her study, being a magical girl, may certainly be out of the norm, but as a whole her past is not what troubles her, but the future.

Bonnie Chance was born an only child to French Canadians, not in Quebec, but in London. London Ontario that is. Bonnie still keeps in contact with her parents regularly, for as much they know, she is enjoying a full ride scholarship in a prestigious far off academy. Bonnie keeps back ups of every single message they share with each other across the pond, dreading the day when she has to break ties with them. A magical girls lot is not a mortals lot, and eventually the two worlds must shift apart.

Bonnie became a magical girl three years ago, while attending a camp in the woods. Tales and chocolates exchanged by firelight, interrupted by an eerie howl came from the darkness. The chaperone told them to stay as he would check it out, and they huddled close whispering whether it was beast or prank. A scream issued from where their chaperone investigated. The others fled in panic to their cabins, but something different steeled Bonnie. Grabbing a stout stick and the flashlight app on her phone, she set forth into the darkness.

What she found was one of the Pageless, this one a twisted beast both moose and man the size of a van and crowned in gore soaked horns. An impossible beast a thousand times her match. Yet she could not help but charge. From her lips spilled forth not a battle cry, but a song, a poem, in flowing words she knew not. Something French. The stick in her hands was not a stick anymore, but a glorious blade, and Lilac Shimmer cleaved the beast in twain.

But Bonnie was not alone that night, multiple Pageless had attacked different campers, and more than one Magical Girl was born that night, defending the woods. In the months after, they formed a small Magical Girl team, defending London and the surrounding area against the Pageless. Eventually, however, this team came to an end. Not because of the Pageless, but ironically, joining a 'greater' team. Eventually they were recruited into the Grand Ministry, and, amid that larger team, lost their smaller identity.

Having lost that solidarity of the smaller team in which she was a prominent member, Bonnie now finds herself questioning her place in the vast Grand Ministry.

ODDS AND ENDS:
She doesn't know much of French culture, beyond some fragmented snippets of language and here and there. She knows enough to get the joke in her name, for example. She's been struggling to try and read her Grimoire in its original text, but so far has resorted to reading English translations. Given the French origins of her tale, she's a little disappointed Marrywell is in Britain as opposed to France.
Here are some places I'd love to see her story go. If you've got an idea for any of them, hit me up.

The Grand Ministry: Bonnie has mixed feelings. She's happy with the opportunity to study in Marrywell and the support they can offer her, but struggles with how she's effectively lost her smaller team as the former members seek position within the Grand Ministry.

The Song of Roland: Bonnie struggles to understand the moral she should take from the tale. It's not exactly time to reconquer Spain from the muslims, so the meaning must be something else.

The Nature of a King: Bonnie feels a desire to live up to the legend of Charlemange.. But it's not right for a magical girl to go around conquering countries right?

Two Worlds: Bonnie is putting off facing the fact that being a magical girl will eventually result in her walking very different paths to her parents.

The King's Court: Bereft of her former teammates, Bonnie feels alone in a crowd. She's worried it's her own fault for the group splitting up, and that if she was of greater charisma she could have kept them together.

In a Name: Bonnie came up with her magical girl name herself on a whim 3 years ago, and worries it's a bit childish for her knightly/kingly image she's aiming for nowadays. Is foolhardy pride to want a cooler name, or simply a matter of growth?

[User]
Suzuya Kuzunoha

What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored.

Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot.

Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest.

Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with.

Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.

[Assistant]
As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding.

With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy.

The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms.

"Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!"

The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past.

"Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!"

Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction.

"I can fix this! I promise!"


[System]
T a f f yThe Healer

---
A G E

20

E T H N I C B A C K G R O U N D

Novan, Raccoon (Lotori)

D E S C R I P T I O N

-Raccoon-pattern Gray, Black and White Fur
-Raven-black hair with straight bangs and a long single braid that reaches down to the small of her back
-Red long-sleeved button-up shirt, jeans, hiking shoes

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

Field Medic: Taffy has spent the last two years studying at the Medical Institute of Colosse to become a doctor. Part of this training is to give her an expert grasp of first aid, CPR, physical and massage therapy, lifeguard swimming and rescue, and the use of certain advanced Novan medical technologies to speed up healing and prevent infection. The Colossan Institute is very comprehensive in training medical experts, and Taffy is among the best students there.

Fit as a Fiddle: Taffy has dedicated a great amount of her personal time to keeping her body strong with gymwork and aerobic exercise, like hiking and swimming, during the past two years of medical study. While not especially stronger or faster than the average Novan, Taffy has a capacity for endurance and experience with camping on her own. She is able to slug onward through difficult conditions and is surprisingly physically tough.

Hard As Nails: Manifesting in a gruff outward shell of straightforward stubbornness, Taffy isn't interested in playing games or beating around the bush. Her terrible bedside manner aside, she has a powerful drive to become a better doctor and person, to be prepared for anything, as a result of a personal tragedy that happened shortly after her first year at the Colossan Institute. If she thinks someone needs help, she helps them, whether or not she likes them and whether or not they want the help. And pray for anyone who gets in her way, for she is full of flame and fury, and does not suffer fools lightly.

Also, she has a mean crotch-destroying kick, reserved for those who particularly raise her ire.

[User]
---

Yony Southeastern Mir - The Fall

---

"Ain't feel dangerous, oke. Back dat way though? Koud as fok."

Xell suppressed surprise hearing the boy's raspy voice crackle quietly not far from him. A initial glance making him take a second. The flashlight the otter had attached to his head appeared to have been turned off at first. But with the second glance he realized it was just the effect of looking at the brighter lights they were all carrying. The torch was still on, but a dim red color, the pink coated youth moving it around the paths behind them slowly and fluidly. He moved back the way they came some and crouched in front of a tree, still scanning back the way they'd come while the newcomer was called out.

[Assistant]
---

SashaSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

Well, at least they aren't will-of-the-wisps... However, they also didn't seem to be completely friendly either. Although, she couldn't really blame them, it being after dark in the Fall and all. Gulping, Sasha took a deep breath and emerged from the bushes.

[User]
---

X e l lSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

"Ain't feel dangerous, oke. Back dat way though? Koud as fok."

Xell suppressed surprise hearing the boy's raspy voice crackle quietly not far from him. He also noted him standing back somewhat, still doning the headlamp as if to cover more surface area with it.
'So he can talk?' Xell scratched his head 'what the hell is that dialect though? The way-upward mountains or something?'

The Draconi turned back to the source of the voice in a slight daze. Perplextion washing over his face as he noted a strange hybrid like creature emerge from the shaded foliage. Her form outlined from the light coming off the Youth.

The newcomer appeared to be mostly canine but had feline traits. Even doning a pair of wings which didn't look particularly fit for flight or other heavy duty aerodynamics.

"Ha." Xell drawled curtly "you remind me of one of hell's oil feathered serpents! I'd say that's why you survived this long in the Fall
without getting eaten."
'Oh God, did I just say that out loud.' he bit his lower lip after his comment was met with silence.

"Where exactly are you trying to get to?" He said, adopting a friendlier tone. He'd give what the Youth said about the newcomer the benefit of the doubt.

[Assistant]
---

M a xSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

What the fucking fuck?!

Max tensed, his free hand nearly jolting for his revolver on instinct. He had heard of the mutants that inhabited The Fall, but he thought they were boogeymen, ghost stories, fables, and paranoid bullshit. But what he saw in front of him didn't look any Novan he had ever seen and it unnerved him to see such a creature emerging from the darkness of the forest. In fact, had she just came out of the bushes without calling out for help he would've probably shot her. He was pretty glad that was not the case. As he looked to the girl and the group, gauging the reactions of all involved parties, he listened on—choosing not to talk or show his wariness or genuine surprise of the girl's appearance.

That is, until the Draconi said what he was thinking.

Max didn't particularly care if the Draconi's words insulted the… whatever it was that stood in front of them, but realistically if the other pirate had "noped" out of his plane like he had there was a particular threat that could be looming in the forest. They didn't have the time to dwaddle and make smalltalk; they needed to keep moving. So with that in mind Max decided to take leadership and support Taffy's initiative to move away from the crashsite.

"Eh, can we keep moving? I don't think standing and talking in The Fall is good for our health. We can talk as we get on, yeh?"


[System]
S e i k a t s u

Personal Dossier

---
生活 クモの巣

Age

Fifteen

Origin

Osaka, Osaka

Physical Description

Standing at a lanky 178 centimetres and weighing a measly 57 kilograms, Seikatsu is one to stand out, much to his dismay. His abnormally green, frazzled hair doesn't help him much, but he likes the color, and can't be assed to change it. Droopy eyes of pink give way to an assumption of tiredness, save for when he offers a curt smile and that drowsiness turns to contentedness. Features of note are his oddly large hands. While he doesn't dislike them, he certainly wishes they wouldn't attract such attention. Hard to wallow through life as a leaf when people constantly want to compare hand sizes with you.

Characterization

They say an object at rest stays at rest. Such is true for Seikatsu. He prefers not to move if he doesn't have to, claiming life will take him wherever it deems necessary he go. Call him an apathetic philosopher and you'll have pretty much summarized his entire personality. Seikatsu is, by all definitions of the word, boring. Bland is another good word of choice. He doesn't do much, and this has led him to have very few friends, and those he does have are self-proclaimed. While he doesn't dislike company, he does prefer to be alone, a preference which led him to move out on his own under special circumstances.

Not a heartless being, Seikatsu isn't against helping people, and will often lend a hand to those in need if it isn't too much trouble. Much like his father, he's also fascinated with the vast variety of quirks present in the world, though he finds it would be bothersome to confront people about their abilities. He's a curious bugger with the lack of enthusiasm to satiate said curiosity. He also happens to be a genius, but being the humble guy he is, he doesn't present that fact as anything particularly special about himself.

Personal History

Seikatsu grew up an only child, and was thus afforded most of anything he wanted, his father being a researcher that studied quirks, his mother a gardener. As a result of the lack of interaction training he'd have most likely gotten had he had siblings, he became a bit unsociable. Opting to stay inside and read books and play whatever video games were good enough to pique his interest, Seikatsu grew up to be quite the loner. His parents feared for what this would mean for his future, and tried to push him into socializing with others. His apathetic nature made making any real progress difficult, and the parents gave up their resolve. As long as he was happy, they concluded.

In school, Seikatsu was little less than a genius. While he found studies boring, his near perfect memory allowed him to nail material upon learning it a single time, and simply recall it whenever test time came around. Rather than bully him, students often came up to him asking for help with their classwork. These "why not" study sessions were the little socialization Seikatsu took part in, and are what led him to make the few self-proclaimed friends he has. Shortly after his 15th birthday, Seikatsu moved out, claiming to want to try living on his own for a while. He currently works as a library's assistant to make his living wages, though he of course still receives some money from his parents, albeit reluctantly.

You're probably wondering why such an apathetic person would want to become a hero. It's quite simple, really. When a flyer advertising enrollment for Ishin Academy smacked him dab in the face as he was walking home one day, he assumed life was telling him this was the path for him to take. Call him impulsive, but that's his reason. His parents also encouraged him a bit, seeing this as an opportunity for him to make some actual friends. Most hero schools were keen on promoting teamwork, which would force the apathetic boy out of his shell.

Character Development & Conceptualization

Over the course of the roleplay, I hope to take Seikatsu out of his comfort zone, putting him into situations that force him to demonstrate anything other than unfiltered apathy. I want to push him in the direction to where he can see someone as a true friend, and not just someone he tolerates because "why not".

Because of his impulsiveness, I'm also aiming to give him personal direction in life — setting goals for himself that aren't just actions taken because he believes it's where life is pointing him, but because they're things he genuinely wants to do.

In addition, I want to open his eyes about what it means to be a hero; that one can't simply be one because something or someone is telling them to. That there has to be a desire, a drive, to be one. A drive that, without, the path he's taken is a road to failure.
Abilities & Talents

---

Quirk Type

Emitter

Quirk Description

Seikatsu's quirk, Living Web, allows him to generate webbing from any orifice on his body. The speed with which the webbing is generated is dependent on his focus. The thread is also surprisingly durable, proving itself capable of withstanding the average karate chop. Blunted sharp objects may also have a hard time severing it. Seikatsu wears special shoes that are resistant to the stickiness of the webs, so as to not hinder himself if he were to ever cover the ground with it as a defensive strategy.

Other Talents & Attributes

As mentioned before, Seikatsu possesses genius level intellect, and is also quite the strategist. However, he's also a bit frail, having not bothered to train himself much physically. As a result, he relies more on being nimble, thanks to his slender, albeit tall, figure. He's capable of solving a Rubik's Cube in around 5 seconds. As a side note, and oddly enough, Seikatsu has a bit of a dislike for spiders, despite his quirk being related to them.

[User]
---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

Everybody's so Calm.

Daiki's tail was swaying behind him in a sort of nervous wagging. Its so strange to be the only one crying here. So many people were introducing and announcing themselves so causally. Like it was nothing for them to make it to this school, maybe they had better quirks than him. Which isn't out of the realm of possibility, no, its very much in the realm of possibility. His quirk is pretty much useless on its own. Daiki had to train and work harder than anybody here he guessed, he had to push himself to his limits, and beyond to even be considered, but is hard work paid off and that's why he's crying. Also the fact that there was so many cute people at this school already got his heart beating in a different manner.

People were introducing themselves like its the easiest thing in the world. While he was here crying like a loser. Some people were looking at him like the freak that he was, crying because he was so happy. How strange. What a weirdo. But when a boy asked if he was okay out of the blue, Daiki jumped in his seat for as he was wiping the last of his genuine tears from his eyes. Daiki's tail was standing up straight before it went back to a relaxed sway. His tears stopped falling.

"I am alright, don't let these tears fool you, I'm very happy." Daiki said with a beaming smile now. "I never actually thought I make it, y'know?" Daiki said earnestly. Which the boy should take in because he's not gonna hear much truths from this boy from this point on. "Your name was Rikuo, right?" Daiki asked their previous crying fit all but gone now except for his reddish eyes from said fit. "it's nice to meet you, I am Hanamura Daiki, but you can call me Daiki and any honorifics are fine with me." Daiki said casually. Daiki than smiled mischievously and decided to comment on their accent. "Are you Osakan, by the way? You have a cute accent."

[Assistant]
---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

Interacting With: @Scrub Mage@Inkarnate@liferusher@Altered Tundra@Sunbather

Chen had to hold back a chuckle at the tense attitude of Yoshiba, he could already tell what type of girl she was. All business, pushing to be the best of the best, probably wanted to go to UA but had to settle for Isshin. She absolutely refused to look at Chen, but her hair gave her away. She was paying full attention to the boy and he was going to make sure she kept doing so, maybe break through her stony exterior while he was at it. "I can use any honorific I want huh? Hmm... well then, I know what I'm going to call you from now on." His smug grin grew just a little wider as he leaned towards Yoshiba, hovering over Takara a little in doing so. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yoshi-tan." Was it a little mean that he was trying to get a reaction out of someone he just met. Maybe a little bit. But it just wasn't healthy to be that tense on such an important day.

Which is perfectly embodied by the girl who just asked if the seat next to him was taken, looking like she was about to have a breakdown any second. "It's empty isn't it? As far as I'm concerned, that means you have the pleasure of sitting next to me." Chen winked as he said this, his natural charisma practically oozing off of him as he motioned for her to sit down. Another girl entered the auditorium as well, another first year was his guess. She introduced herself to everyone quite loudly, which was the only reason she had managed to catch his attention really, but what kept his attention was how stiff she was. She looked like a robot almost, her joints weren't moving at all. "Jeez, you guys really need to chill. It's like you're all showing up to your own execution and not one of the most prestigious academies around." He leaned back into his chair and sighed, showing how relaxed he was. "Come on, today is the beginning of our journey into becoming heroes! Put a smile on your face, you made it!" Chen announced to everyone in the room loudly, earning himself a few peculiar looks from older students.

"D-did you see this city already... It is quite big isn't it." Chen's attention swerved back to the girl who had just sat next to him. Oh right, she wanted to talk to him. Chen's smile went away for a second as he looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, was Sapporo really that big? Maybe she wasn't from a big city like he was, so he supposed it could be considered pretty big.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty big. But you should see my hometown Tokyo, it makes Sapporo look like a place out in the sticks!" Chen's smile quickly came back as he laughed a little at the end of his statement. Someone else came to introduce himself, prompting Chen to introduce himself once again. "Adachi Chen. It's a pleasure to meet you and it's a pleasure to meet me." Truly Chen's arrogance knew no bounds.


[System]
Birthday
May 27, 2081
Age
17
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Hetero
Ethnicity
Irish
Blood Status
Pure Blood
Wand
12
1/4
" Rosewood with a Phoenix Feather core
Familiar

Appearance
Mircus is 6'0 and has a toned, athletic build. His eyes are an emerald shade. He always wears is long brown hair in a messy fashion, although it takes quite a bit of work to make it look like he puts no work into it at all. Even when Mircus is wearing casual clothing he like to show his school pride by wearing some combination of black and yellow.
Likes
Irish Rock and Folk music|Quidditch|Kenmare Kestrels|Magical Creatures|Helping Others|Being Carefree
Dislikes
Hurting Others|Feeling Helpless|Orangemen
Year
6th Year
House
Hufflepuff
Personality
Mircus has always been a carefree person, even since he was a child. He would always run through the fields or fly around on his broomstick, exploring the land. He was also very loyal, to both his friends and family, coming to their aid whenever necessary. He was a kind-hearted person to everyone he met, until they had given him reason not to be. He could be very helpful to his allies and quite dangerous to his enemies.
Place of Origin
Dublin, Ireland
History
Growing up in a multi-generational pure blood family wasn't as demanding as most people would have you believe. At least, not for Mircus. His parents were a bit more liberal in terms of blood status and Hogwarts Housing. He was fortunate to not have the burden of such things placed on him at a young age. However, he did find conflict soon into his early teen years. His parents came to him, explaining the importance of knowing and practicing the Dark Arts. They believed that to be a true and powerful wizard one must be able to use every school of magic available to him, not restricting himself.

It made sense to a young child's brain. However, soon after learning to practice Dark Arts in secret during the summers at home, his parents began teaching him of the Dark Lord. The most powerful wizard of all time. Lord Voldemort. When he began his term at Hogwarts he had already been taught of the greatness of Voldemort and brainwashed against the "lies" he would learn in school. But he was also taught about the importance of secrecy.

Soon, though, Mircus began to slowly contemplate. He wondered, what if the books and histories were true. What if Voldemort truly was as evil as they said. What if he did do these horrendous things to people. Mircus would become internally divided, wanting to be a loyal son, but not wanting to worship someone who had done such horrid things.
Other
Mircus is a Chaser and Team Captain for House Hufflepuff, taking his team to the House Cup twice, but always falling short, due to their seeker's incompetence. He didn't like to blame anyone, but there was only so much that could be done. This year, however, the seeker had graduated, and it would be his job to find a new one.

Being a lover of all creatures, Mircus excelled at Care of Magical Creatures. His favorite was the Hippogriff.

[User]
|BLEU DELACROIX|

Bleu nearly jumped out of her seat when a handsome Asian boy approached her, her hand slipping from where it gripped her forehead and her head, losing its support, nearly colliding with the table.

"Huh?" She muttered blearily before she completely understood his words. Smiling easily, despite the tiredness in her eyes, she nodded, "Ah, yes."

Bleu experienced a whiplash of sorts when he launched into talking, perhaps even creating an amazing monologue, but she didn't understand a thing. Her mind was moving too slow and his mouth moving too fast. Smiling and nodding, Bleu laid a gentle hand on his forearm and made a motion, her hand fluttering in an upwards motion as she took in a deep breath, "Breathe." She joked.

Waiting for a beat of silence, Bleu then said, "Yes, I am a transfer student. I come from Beauxbatons. What is your name?"

Almost as if the universe was against her receiving the aforementioned name, a man that looked as if he should be on the front cover of Vogue appeared and interrupted. However, he also happened to shout the Asian boy's name and Bleu smiled happily. Smiling brightly, Bleu reached out her hand to shake his and crowed, "Hi, I'm Bleu!"

Luck has it, before anything could happen, they had to sit in their seats and watch the hat sorting. Bleu herself had been sorted over the summer, something about her fitting in? Bleu wasn't paying attention; she was staring out the window at the time. And like so, Bleu didn't pay much attention when the first years were sorted, but instead clapped when she saw everyone else clapping and cheering when she saw everybody else cheer.

Headmistress Reynolds took the stage and Bleu had to prevent herself from scowling – she didn't quite like this headmistress with her brevity and shortness. Sometimes, Shakespeare, brevity is not the soul of wit. Sometimes it's just down-right annoying. Despite her thoughts, when the Headmistress finished, she clapped.

"Should we go to our dorms now?" Bleu asked once she saw everyone getting up and did as well. She lingered, waiting for Damien and the mystery boy.

[Assistant]
Emmet O'Faollin
Emmet sat at his table, moodily picking at his food. He wasn't hungry, even though he knew he should be. He ignored the other Slytherins and just sat there. He was lost in thought, thinking of how his foster sisters were doing in their houses. He knew he should go make sure Roselle was doing okay, but he just couldn't muster up the energy right now. He looked up in disinterest when Headmistress Reynolds stood up and started speaking, then jumped in surprise as Dawna leapt onto his lap with a soft meow. he smiled and picked her up, letting her drape her orange body around his shoulders. He stood up with the others, but went over to the Gryffindors and tapped Roselle on her head. She looked up and smiled.

"Hey wolf, whatcha doin?" Emmet grinned.

"what, I canna check on my little sis?"

[User]
Damien was grinning as he heard his friend, from the distance, "I've missed you all summer, mate. How've you been?" It was cute that Mircus remembered him over the summer, and he had missed him too. During the summer he was mostly separated from most of his wizardly friends as he had to work and when he had time, he spent it studying and practicing on spells. He didn't mind that the two were friends, as they were similar to each other yet not and besides they were from the same house anyways. The Irish was one cuter friends and he didn't mind being surrounded by attractive people at all, with more being the merrier. The only bad thing, was... he didn't swing that way and that serious put a damper on things. Despite that he made sure his gaze was never caught when he was checking him out or giving those jealous looks and was able to remain as good friends with him. It was amazing how he got away with some things, that he wondered why he wasn't secretly a Slytherin despite how much he hated them. He reverted his gaze from his friend looking at Bleu, as it was rude to ignore her but then there was Mircus as well...

When Damien looking at Bleu looked slightly overwhelmed with the amount of words that he just shove at her face, he wouldn't expect her to catch all of it. He apparently did that a lot to everyone, and that was the best reason why he was a hatstall, the hat didn't know whether if Ravenclaw could survive my chatter and inquisitive nature or simply put me in Hufflepuff to save them the agony. He chuckled to himself silently as he remembered he gave the hat an partially annoying time, as he spoke to the hat nonstop for that five and a half minutes basically sealing my spot in this house. "Breathe." He heard Bleu said, and he grinned childishly. He gave a small laugh as he sometimes wondered if he even breathed at all, but for her sake he stopped for a moment. But he wouldn't spare her any details later, to make up for this...

Then after recovering from his brigade she finally said her introductions... sort of? "Yes, I am a transfer student. I come from Beauxbatons. What is your name?" He sighed slightly at her words at first but understood, transferring schools was hard but with the assistance of the twins, him and several others he would make her year great... Wait! Cross out Tat, as his brother was the better prankster but besides that her year was going to be a busy one with him!  "Gimme a second, here he comes! Come lemme introduce you to another Hufflepuff who is in the same year I believe! Wait... your a fifth year darn it... Never mind now lets go meet him!"

 "Who's your friend." Damien was beaten to his sentence but it had worked out perfectly in the end. Exchanging glances with Mircus before with Bleu and grinning mischievously, with arms extended he introduced the two with each other.  "Mircus, this is Bleu who is transferring to our school from... Beauxbatons, I think thats what you said right? A real long name really but anyways, she also joining us in Hufflepuff as well! And then, Bleu this Mircus our team captain for quidditch. He's the one who scores basically... like scores, also know as the Chaser I believe, yes?! Then finally, there's Me! Damien, the social butterfly of death! Well, at least that's what I would be if I was one! So lets be nice to each other okay, I promise I wont bite, so you guys don't either, okay?"  He said to them laughing slightly, before turning behind him. He was watching the sorting hat's decision for Mircus' sister right now, which he had taken a note of when he had came into the room with her.

 "Daaaaw, that sucks really. I hoped your sister would join us but I guess to Griffindor she goes! At least the Ravens or Snakes didn't get her, she too kind for either of those houses. At least she'll have some reliable people to watch over her right? At least she doesn't have to deal with Tatum, his twin is apparently the more civil one of the set." He had said when the Hat decided its choice for the young witch. He silently wondered why the hat choose to put her in Griffindor but couldn't argue unless he put it on again. Which wasn't going to be a nice experience for either of them and besides the Sorting Hat knew best... for the most part and he wouldn't oppose its decision for other students.

"Should we go to our dorms now?" Bleu had said to the two, and he looked around him as everyone was standing up as well. Well... there goes the Head Mistress speech, or whatever it was down through the drain. He had heard it many times and doubt it was of any importance so placed it onto the back of his head disregarding it. Looking at Mircus and Bleu before he decided that he would like to get the first bed before either of the two or simply anyone else, which wasn't likely at this point he still didn't mind trying and abruptly got up as well.  "Yes, yes we do! Now... 3, 2, 1, GO! Race ya guys!" He said childishly before jogging out to the Hufflepuff's dorms for them. Dodging some of the students and vanished out of the room slipping out easily with his lithe frame, leaving the two Hufflepuffs standing there... to talk and get to know each other if they wished.

[Assistant]
Mircus couldn't help but to laugh at his friend. He was such a ball of energy and constantly going. It was amusing. He always seemed to be in a good mood when Damien was around. He especially enjoyed listening to him as he tried to explain who Mircus was to the transfer student. Damien then commented on his sister's sorting. "Aye, it'd have been nice to have her here, but 'least I know she'll be safe in Gryffindor. Wouldn't be able to say the same about the other houses," he lied. He knew his sister was more than capable of taking care of herself. She'd been raised just as he had.

Finally, Damien announced a race back to the Hufflepuff basement. Mircus chuckled as he watched his friend disappear from the Great Hall before turning back to the new girl. "Bleu, was it," he said, knowing it was. "Come on, I'll show you to the common room. Just let me say something to my sis, real quick?" He gave her a smile before moving over to the Gryffindor table. The Prefect was gathering all the first years. "'Ey, Nyra," he called to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he gave her a squeeze. "Congratulations. You're a Hogwarts student now."

"Aye, thanks," the small blonde girl smiled up at him. "It feels weird, you know? Like a dream almost."

Her brother chuckled. "Yeah, wait til classes start, you'll lose that feeling." He saw Demi nearby and recalled her promising to take care of her. Mircus motioned her over. "You see that lass there?" He said.

"The pretty one?" Nyra asked, pointing back to Demi.

"Aye," Mircus laughed. "Her. Well, she's an ole friend. If you have any questions about anything, just ask her. She'll help you out. And if you're nice, she might consider you for Quidditch try-outs next year." He looked back to Demi and thanked her under his breath before waving to the two of them.

He returned to Bleu's side. "So, shall we?" he motioned to the door of the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff common room was in the basement of Hogwarts, and the entrance was just outside the Kitchen, so it was the closest to the Great Hall. Mircus led Bleu through the doors. "So, what's Beauxbaton's like? Any better or worse than Hogwarts, from what you've seen so far?"

After a bit of chat he'd finally arrived to the barrels that covered the Hufflepuff entrance. "Third one over, right here," Mircus informed before tapping it with his wand. The barrel opened up and revealed a small stairwell leading down to the Commonroom. It was filled with chairs and tables, bookshelves and chandeliers. Windows sat in the high part of the far wall, letting the sunlight shine on earthy looking basement (or it would, if it were daylight outside). "Right, so girl's dorms are that way," he pointed to a pathway leading out of the room to the side.

He turned and made his way to his own room. A familiar screech made his face light up. "Hey, Talon. Have you missed me, mate?" He opened the door on the small birds cage and let the Kestrel jump onto his hand. "I know, you want out. I'll let you off tomorrow, give ya a letter to take to mah and dah, eh?"


[System]
Appearance:

Ghoul Mask:
Ishin's mask is a stylized metal helmet which looks to be a single piece of stained glass dyed multiple colours. It has no features present on the face plate and gives Ishin an eerily inhuman appearance.
Nicknames: "Savage"
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Rank: S

Kagune: Ishin's Kagunes are patterned numerous colours that resemble stained glass. His Koukaku is a set of two viciously long blades that wrap along his arm ending just underneath his palm, giving his arm the appearance of a tattooed spiral of stained glass. The Koukaku is able to flex and spread, giving him a form of amour across his arms. Ishin is also able to extend the end of his Koukaku past his hand into wickedly sharp blades, often giving them jagged edges in order to rip and tear rather than slice.

Ishin's Ukaku are a set of two large wings that are amorphous in the liquid state but when crystalized take the shape of something akin to a dragon. The liquid nature of the Kagune and his colouring gives it once more the appearance of stained glass. Ishin is able to use the solidified wings to great proficiency, sending blades of crystal at his target as he rushes in violently to attack. With some fresh food in him, Ishin's wings can give him limited flight.

RC Type: Koukaku and Ukaku

Personality: Ishin is a calm and collected man, full of sarcasm and wit and born with a silver tongue. He always has a calm word for friends and a smart ass one liner for enemies. This attitude seems apt as the man that runs one of the Sanctuaries for Ghouls in District 8, under the guise of a night club called "Dark Nights". This personality is flipped whilst hunting or fighting, under his mask he becomes diabolically savage and attempts to elicit as much pain as possible from his prey and any doves that are fool enough to walk past him.

Biography: Ishin was born in to the Ghoul world, thinking that what he was to be the norm and that humans were merely lower on the food chain to Ghouls. That's how his parents decided to raise the children under their care. As Ishin grew, he came to realize that Ghouls were a new development and not the norm. Humans outnumbered his kind. Accepting this, he developed himself to pass as a human…not wishing to go the same way his parents had and become infamous binge eaters. His teenage years were fraught with the usual things shown in tv dramas, sitcoms and movies. First loves, first heart breaks, failing tests and passing classes. All this was added to the struggle of controlling his hunger and the urge to eat as he slept his way through highschool angst.

Out of highschool and in to college, Ishin used the inheritance he had from his parents that had passed a few years into highschool to set up his own business. A business he could use to help ghouls to hide from the doves and to give protection to the ghouls of Ward 8. He named this business Dark Nights and it became known for its 'shock horror' atmosphere for a nightclub. He used this to continue providing funds for his education.

[User]
CCG Cafeteria

Luca pushed one of the doors of the cafeteria open with the tip of his foot and squeezed into the room before it quickly moved to shut. The briefcase in hand got stuck between the doors. Once he'd felt the tug when he tried to walk a way, he pulled it to himself and let the door rest on the other. Looking around, the flustered young investigator tried to find his newly assigned partner. He'd received information about having gotten assigned to be partnered with another dove around the same age and rank. He'd looked through his file before. He seemed like a decent dove and Luca couldn't really complain. It would be nice to have a partner that was around his age. He could have a good, proper friend for once.

He looked over at one of the tables, seeing a young man looking at some papers in those beige covers. From behind, he couldn't really discern whether or not it was him but he decided to take a risk and approach him. "Good evening," he said, blindly sitting across him. Finally catching a glimpse of his face, he let out a weak sigh of relief. Oh, thank god it's him... "My name's Luca Langley. Nice to meet you Mr... Yuuma, was it?"

[Assistant]
CCG Headquarters

Yuuka shrugged. "I'd be down with silly. It's prooobably not setting a good example for my junior saying this, but when you've been at this job for over fifteen years you kinda need something new to break up the monotony every once and a while. Even killing Ghouls can get boring if they're too weak to be a challenge, so sometimes I like to mess around a little on the job just to keep things interesting. Seeing how long I can go unnoticed by them, putting on disguises and infiltrating their ranks, fighting with one arm or leg tied behind my back, seeing how many Ghouls I can kill with improv weapons..."

Yuuka paused momentarily to consider the ramifications of what she'd just said.

"It's definitely not something a junior should do though! You could get hurt if you don't know what you're doing!"

Having dispensed her motherly advice, Yuuka cleaned up her mess like any responsible adult should, and then turned to Hisoka and said, "Tell you what, we'll discuss it on the car ride down. Tell me what you're thinking and I'll see if it'll make for a good first hunt. This is your first real hunt, right Hisoka-kun?"

[User]
CCG Cafeteria

Yuuma looked up, the little concentration he had had broken, and gave an easy smile when he saw the speaker's face.

"That's right," he replied. "Rank 2 Investigator Saito Yuuma." He closed the folder in front of him, and stood up, reaching across the table with his right hand outstretched. "Are you doing well, Langley-kun?"

Sitting back in his seat, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, deciding what he wanted to cover and in what order.

"Before anything else, I have a request," he said, his easy smile still there. "I'd prefer if we keep formalities between the two of us to an absolute minimum. Not only are we essentially married now, but we're both the same rank, and similar in age. So just call me Yuuma."

Yuuma gave a small, content huff, glad to have that out of the way. It would even help with efficiency. No matter how little, that fact pleased the boy.

"I was going through these," he continued after a moment, pushing the folder towards Luca. "Have a look. They're files on some ghouls I find at least mildly interesting. I figure we can request to be assigned to one, instead of waiting around and twiddling our thumbs."

Yuuma scratched his nose and leaned back into his seat, before deciding to share more of his thoughts with his new partner. "Considering we only have three years of field experience between the two of us, I can't help but feel like we'll be seen as weak and unreliable. And as much as I'd like to prove that notion wrong as soon as possible, I think it'd be good for our first few assignments to be C and B-ranked ghouls who have a penchant for violence. I'm sure you know, but I haven't done anything in a year, and I need to get back into the swing of things." His eyes darted towards his briefcase. "And my new quinque is a koukaku-type. The last one I had was an ukaku, and to say they handle differently is an understatement."

Yuuma got out of his seat and stretched lazily. "Point is, while I'm plenty confident in my abilities, I wouldn't mind a little warm-up. We can familiarize ourselves with each other in a low-pressure environment. Then, we'll really start to work on making a name for ourselves, yeah?" he finished with a friendly smirk.

The boy paused yet again, realizing he had been talking a lot, and hadn't given Luca much opportunity to speak up. "Is there anything you'd like to ask, or want me to know?" he invited, a curious look on his face.

[Assistant]
Ishin allowed himself to listen at the door as it wasn't immediately being answered. He heard a phone ring and a mechanical voice that simply sounded angry from what he could hear. He gave a short breath in and composed himself, acting once more as the dignified host and proprietor of a night club. The door opened and what greeted him was a woman; shorter than him, though to be fair at about 6 foot most people were shorter than Ishin, with a very clean cut appearance only marred by what looked to be animal fur. Ishin smiled briefly as she bowed, a cleanly snapped movement that was obviously practiced. Ishin leant against the wall that was behind him, slouched and hands in his pockets "not a pro-" He couldn't finish his sentence as she rattled off her name and rank as a Dove. Ishin straightened and smiled, practice of his own flicking a switch on his brain "A Ghoul Investigator?" He laughed "Cool, dangerous job though" he nodded and began walking towards the entrance "My name is Ishin Kuhaku, owner of this joint" he waved around his hand, gesturing to the walls "I have a few of you guys come through to wind down a lot…so I'll offer you the same thing I offer them" he laughed "my clients enjoy 'horror' themes and taboo…if you ever find or…hmm…acquire some notorious Ghoul Masks" he gestured to the wall covered in masks "I'll pay handsomely for them…might even give out free drinks" he grinned before gesturing to the entrance "I hope you can find your way home, Miss Hikari...and do come again."

Ishin turned on his heel after leading the Dove out, he had to check on Chou and The Boy…ensure nothing had happened. Checking that they had indeed come back here, Ishin made his way up the room and opened the door. He strode inside, like he owned the place…which he well did so that wasn't an issue. The Boy was looking scared and frightened and Chou was rummaging through some drawers. He cleared his throat "Chou…tha-that's the cutlery drawer…clothes are in the wardrobe over there" He pointed at the big panels of mirrored glass that covered a section of the wall. He strode over to the Boy and looked him over "Boy…show me your Kagune" he folded his arms "I need to understand what you can do and how best to train you to stay alive."


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Faunus (Cat)

Weapon:

The Aurora Ravager is a weapon of two identical energy swords powered by a dust core. Engineered to provide excellent movement speed both swords are able to slice through the air at incredible speeds. Combined with that, they can also fold the first two thirds up to be two energy pistols, which are quite useless in long range combat and are mostly used to penetrate weak spots.

Specialty: Skyra is fast. Very fast. And agile. Both of those features together make her seem like a dancer on the battlefield. Her trademark move is slashing upwards with both blades launching herself into the air, flipping back around, then striking downwards at lightning speed.
However she is absolutely unusable at long range engagements and against flying creatures, not from the ground anyway.
Due to her cat Faunus heritage, she is able to sneak up on her targets without making a sound, which makes her a decent assassin when needed.
In short: If you need a striker, who can quickly dispose of targets in a flash, call Skyra. If you have flying beasts or monsters not reachable by close combat, don't call her.

Semblance: Blade Storm: Skyra channels her aura to manifest around her which starts levitating her two swords and swirls them around herself creating an absolutely deadly whirlwind of blades, which, when cancelled, sends a shockwave out, knocking close enemies off their feet. With her weapons modified to fire arrows, Blade Storm is able to be channelled into the bow to accelerate the arrow to blistering speeds.

Personality: At first glance Skyra seems pretty easy to categorize. An energetic, sometimes pretty mean spirited, tomboy. That is mostly how she will behave in public. In private, however, she will open up a lot more, even to a point where she will constantly hug and snuggle those who are close and dear to her. Don't get her mad, though, or she might go into berserk-mode smashing everything that is not nailed down. When she is in that mode, only a hug will get her out of it before she loses steam.

Colour: Sunrise orange  (Colourcode: F02100)

Emblem: A whirlwind of orange swords

Appearance: Pretty much like this, just her hair should have sunrise-orange coloured tips and black-white furred ears. Also she is rather small, at 155cm ~5'1"

[User]
Luke Schwarz-- Hallway Navigation.

"Math next, huh..." the raven-haired teen mumbled to himself under his breath, shaking and stretching ought the light soreness that was the paltry remainder of his injuries sustained beforehand.

Well, that worked for him. Strangely enough, Math was typically the one subject he'd always reliably kept up in-- no top scorer in the class, of course, but he held his own far more respectably than, say, that one ill-advised year of computer science.

He shuddered at the mere thought of that hellhole. Impossible to focus on and impossible to comprehend without the entirety of his focus from start-to-finish:

A catch-22 straight from the maw of Loki himself!

Slinging his bookbag over his shoulder in that typically highschoolerish, nonchalant-looking way, Luke shook the demons free from his head and filed out with the rest of the class, freely partaking in idle chatter as any of the others came up with it.

Such was his way, as we all knew by now.

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro - Hallway Navigation

A green-grey satchel slung across her body, her black jacket and checkerboard-grey skirt tidied up for a new semester, concentration utterly focused on a simple white booklet in her hands rather than the hallway around her, Gratia Mindaro appeared to be no less than another diligent student, familiarising herself with the mathematics curriculum one last time before she jumped in classes proper. The fact was, of course, that she had not actually found the time to read up on the semester's work until right after combat class, when she needed to distract herself from the irksome outcome of her spar. The frantic rush of arriving in a new country had been quite overwhelming as well.

Rates of change, differentiation of polynomials, integration ... so it appears there will be a focus on calculus.

That was not particularly worrying. She had touched upon the study during her time at Haven, and it was not something that she had experienced struggle with; in fact, the situation was quite the opposite - the Mistralese huntress had taken to the subject quite well. Not that it was surprising. She was superior in all aspects. That was a fact.

Gratia skillfully weaved herself around a student she would have walked into, eyes still scanning the booklet in her hands even as she stepped around the crowds moving to class. The incessant and annoying chatter of the youths were of absolutely no importance to her. There was no point in listening to what she cared nothing about, and the presence of her headphones around her head, quiet music flowing through the cans, was emblematic of her complete apathy for the unwashed, inferior masses.

She snapped the booklet shut, dropping into her satchel with a smooth motion. That was all she needed for now. Nothing more, nothing less.

[User]
Luke Schwarz-- Hall Observation

Hm?

A familiar curtain of long, straight black hair brushed past him, the slightly taller Mistralese Huntress's longer strides eating up ground more quickly than his own.

Ah. Miss Gratia.

The astute observation was very nearly followed by a tap on the shoulder to grab her attention and offer congratulations for her victory over his teammate, but the fistic hunter-to-be thought against it, for a multitude of reasons, upon further observation. She was obviously preoccupied, what with the course guidebook in her hands being voraciously devoured by her mind one last time, and the headphones wrapped around her ears, filling her immediate world with just herself and her music as opposed to a hall full of people trying to talk...

Saving the odd metaphors for English Class a few periods away, he also reminded himself that she was quite clearly--and quite understandably--annoyed with the outcome of her match against Cian. Bringing that up again and yanking her out of her own brief period of time before the next class to do it?

Poor form. Definitely poor form.

I don't want to have a hole stared through me again!

And so, he allowed the outstretched hand to drop back into his pocket, keeping on pace as normal.

It was all a matter of timing, and now wasn't the time.

[Assistant]
Emerald Felicia - Hallway Navigation -

Emerald had been resting in the stands, watching any last matches as it was announced that it was time to move onto the next period. Emerald seemed to become visibly depressed when she saw the words 'Math'. What did a huntress need math for anyway? To count how many grimm they killed? She thought it was dumb.

Still, she made her way there, though more slowly and with far less enthusiasm as she had for combat class. She decided to think about something else, like the duel she was going to have with Krysthane after classes. It would be glorious, she just knew it.

With the impending doom of math class forgotten, she became more upbeat as she skipped and dodged passed various students as she made her way down the halls. She noticed that she was quickly approaching the Luke guy who had fought against Shiro in combat class, and that Gratia was a bit further ahead...though Emmy didn't really want to get too close to Gratia she was kind of scary.

Luke though...she didn't really know much about him, other that what she'd seen when he and Shiro dueled. So she caught up to him, matched his pace and sort of just stared at him with big, curious eyes.

[User]
Sangue - Hallway

Though Sangue had lost, she was glad that she did not lose within thirty seconds of the battle. Fighting without complicated surroundings was something she definitely needed to improve upon, as she will not always have something to confuse her opponents with.

She had to wonder, however, whether "Emmy" would do something drastic to her when she enforced some sort of friendship upon her.

The Huntress quietly entered the hallway and shifted amongst others, using the people around her as a guide toward her Math class.

[Assistant]
Ben really, really didn't want to move. His body hurt, and he'd only gotten the trickle of blood wiped off his face a few moments before. But given the fact that he wasn't technically incapable of going on to his next class, he was going to have to. BASL's leader pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his bag, stepping out into the hall after Goodwitch's closing words. He spotted Sangue, not far away, and followed after her. He was pretty sure Lauren wasn't far behind him, but he hadn't seen Amy for a while.

The fight had been great, though. Even if it did hurt like hell afterwards. Calculus probably wasn't going to be anywhere near as interesting.