[System]
Quote: "And who's gonna stop me? …You?"
Alias: Omega
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Family: Mother - Sonya (super); Father - Richard, older brother - Ellis (non-super)

Occupation:
Coming from a family who manages their finances pretty well, Manny makes his money work for him, giving him time to train most days. He does, however, help his father with his construction business quite often, taking care not to reveal their relation.

Appearance:

Manny is 5'9" and about 185lbs. He has a muscular build but isn't massively buff. He does like to show off his arms, so most of his wardrobe is short sleeved or sleeveless.

His 'hero' wear consists of a black jumpsuit (loose like clothing, not tight like a leotard) with no sleeves and a large cowl neck; a tank top under the jumpsuit (varying colors); fingerless gloves the same color as the tank top; a leather belt; black boots; and aviator goggles.

Method of Operation:
His home base is in a secret location, but he can usually be found cruising the rooftops, surveilling the city from above. He has enough cooperation with the authorities that he hasn't been arrested yet. Since he can easily take out larger groups, he usually looks out for gang activity.

Superpower:
Gravity Manipulation
Manny can alter his own gravity or the gravity of a given area, the largest being about the size of a school gymnasium. He also uses a few gravity-based attacks. Specific abilities include:

Upforce/Downforce: decrease/increase the effect of the planet's gravity in a specific area
Force Push/Pull: repel/attract objects using force (precision is somewhat limited)
Concussive Blast: emit a burst of force in single direction
Zero Point Gravity: can attract all matter within a small area to a single point in space
Personal Gravity Manipulation/Gravity Aura: can alter the effects of gravity on himself enhancing his jumping ability, allowing him to walk on walls/ceilings, and giving him levitation and gliding abilities (though he can't technically 'fly'). He also uses this power to land harder strikes when fighting and repel things like bullets (he has to be consciously doing this; he's not bulletproof).

Manny is limited to the amount of alteration happening at one time. This includes area of effect, the strength of the alteration, and the amount of time the area is affected.

Reckless use of his power can also cause a good bit of collateral damage, so he has to be careful when affecting the gravity of something other than himself.

Skills:
Since his vigilante work involves frequent contact with bad guys, Manny has become a skilled fighter. He trains at several different gravity levels and, at times, with weighted clothing. He also has very good parkour skills. Also, thanks to his father, he knows a good bit about construction.

Equipment:
Aviator goggles - altering gravity can sometimes loosen up a lot of floating particles
Music player - never goes anywhere without his music
Bulletproof vest - for days when he's feeling particularly unlucky, but he's not always wearing one (he goes up against a lot of gangs)

Personality:
Being born a super has given Manny a thick skin when it comes to negativity. He doesn't let many things bother him and humbly recognizes his superiority over humans. He understands the human disdain for supers: some are jealous, some scared, others are just put off by the abnormal. As a matter of fact, he has a certain animosity himself for supers who misuse or abuse their powers. Jeopardizing innocent lives is wrong no matter what a person's genetic code happens to be.

Manny likes adventure and exploration, and living in Millennium City ensures he's never bored. Having powers gives him freedom from a normal human lifestyle and using those powers for good gives him a sense of purpose.

When faced with a challenge, he is confident in his abilities but still errs on the side of caution. He knows how to stay level-headed in most situations, seeing panic and doubt as surefire ways to fail.

Manny tends to keep people in the neutral zone until he sees their true nature. He prefers independence, but still cooperates with others if necessary. He likes to crack a joke or two, whether or not the humor is appreciated. Since Manny has earbuds permanently attached to his head, he tends to quote a lot of lyrics and sing/hum to himself.

Biography:
Manny grew up just outside Millennium City. His father, Richard, owns a construction company which started locally and moved into the city when business grew, and his mother, Sonya, works at the local children's hospital. His parents met in high school and married soon afterward. Sonya revealed her power to Richard a little after they got engaged which she was certain would drive him away, but he was only upset that she hadn't mentioned it sooner. This may had only been because she had a 'good' power, but to this day, he claims that it was because of 'true love'. His mother has the ability to physically heal people with her singing voice.

Sonya had to pretty much beg for children, the second being an easier sell because the first didn't have powers. Richard's human genes apparently dominated in Manny's older brother, Ellis, so Manhattan is the only child of theirs with powers. Growing up, Sonya helped Manny develop his powers while always urging him to keep it to himself. He didn't quite understand why he had to be so secretive when his mom used her powers for work, but she always told him he would get it one day.

When 'one day' came, Manny was in his late teens and he decided to pack up his things and move into the city. His parents reluctantly let him go, reminding him that the city was dangerous even for a super, and especially for a teenager, but they couldn't change his mind. He needed a place to freely explore his powers, and he promised to never get his family involved or even reveal his relation to them (in case he gained some enemies).

Manny took to the city pretty well and spent a lot of time exploring, but he didn't really get serious about being a vigilante until his brother was injured in a fire caused by a pyrokinetic. Ellis ended up trapped underneath some fallen rubble, and even though Manny was able to rescue him, Ellis was paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. At that moment, Manhattan dedicated himself fully to ridding the city of crime and finding the person responsible for his brother's injury.

Theme Song:
Weapons of Mass Distortion - The Crystal Method

Relationships:
TBD

Extra:
We...are not...normal.

[User]
Interacting with: Everyone in the warehouse, particularly Tank @General Scales

---

---

Before he knew it, Levi noticed a few more vigilantes entering the mix, some with well known names and others whispered amongst the populace as myth. Levi didn't really have an alias, nor a reason to hide his identity so he wasn't exactly impressed by Ditch's knowledge about him, but was curious about her knowledge about the other vigilantes and of course about 'Umbra'.

A damp and dark aura could be felt around the area, and before Levi knew it, there was another person next to Ditch, darkness basically hanging off of her body. It was Reaper, another name whispered amongst the masses. Levi was slightly impressed at the studded cast of 'vigilantes' gathered around.

"No need to be so bitter."
"You read the text, you know what you're here for. And please. Everything's available nowadays, no matter if you've spoken it or not."

Ditch replied to his inquiry earlier, however the answer just darkened Levi's expression further, but for now he chose to stay silent. Levi didn't care much for the reveal of her true identity, sure she was a looker. Levi in particular didn't care much about his own identity, so after taking a glance at 'Ditch' he looked back at the encroaching darkness, his patience wearing thin waiting for the other vigilantes to make their flashy entrances.

Ironically the next vigilante came normally, Turn back. Asking a question about something, of course he himself didn't care about, as after giving a fleeting glance he turned back staring into the nothingness. Well, until everything started shaking, another one, burst through the scene, no quite literally burst in on the weakened walls. Levi scowled, he jumped down from the support beam, and landed on the floor, his yellow lightning beginning to encircle and crackle around him.

"You." Levi directed at Tank, his scowl darkening further, "Do you intend to kill everyone here? Did you not see the state of this building before you entered?" as he said this the intensity of his lightning grew, in the darkness you could clearly see Levi because of the lightning furiously cascading around him. It was stupid to burst in on a building that was basically about to collapse by itself

Before he could get the answer, three more vigilantes entered the fray, but Levi was too focused on 'Tank' because of his flashy stunt that could have potentially made the building collapse. He heard the faint sound of a spray can, which Levi would have guessed to be Graffiti. Nevertheless his attention was never fully taken away from 'Tank.'

[Assistant]
She could hear the gentle movement of taking off one's mask, this was Ditch? The person in front of her?
A female, once again her own age, maybe even younger? She had no clue. A kind spirit holding something back, something hiding, no surprise, in this line of work you had to do that. She didn't know much about Ditch, even without the mask, all Aurora could figure out was that she was interesting.

Her Grim next to her began to move. His claws scraping the ground she listened to the scaly hide brush the stage as it jumped, landing near the woman who orchestrated the meeting. Green eyes looking up at the blond in silence for a few seconds, the quite air broken by a snap of it's jaws. A strange shriek like noise escaping it's throat that belonged to no dog.
She knew that sound, least she thought she did. "He's a Grim, a beast that will tell it's victim if they will face great misfortune in the future. Whoever you are Ditch, do be careful in the future."

She herself has used the Grim before and she found he was never really wrong, sure he was not direct. You could never figure out the time, place or exactly what would happen. Its something that keeps her from using him too much. But she could not deny it was useful in situations like this at times.

It didn't take long for a crash to be heard, tearing wood and wire. The stage, someone had just smashed through the stage. It had to be Tank, there were some well known names here and Tank was the one for destruction.
Staying at her post she could hear the one with the piercing gaze land behind her, yet thankful his eyes were not locked on her back any-more. His voice claiming that Tan could destroy this place, she called forth her book again.
"Hold on, don't move...grim my friend, disperse" Flipping through a page with a single motion she ran her finger over one of the many lines. The Grim vanishing in a wisp of emerald smoke. "Don't move, hes right I can hear everything snapping around you. Guy could bring the stage down at least." With her warning told she began to speak.
"With wings of silent fire, and a heart ever so great, he takes you to the skies, so long as you understand the stake, a burden of hero's and a blade of fortune, I call forth the companion of flames and other's misfortune."

On her shoulder appeared the same bird like creature she rode here, the beast seeming to be far smaller with darken flames occasionally capturing the light to gain a blue and white hue.
"Get him out of there if you will." Spreading it's wings it seemed to be no larger than a peacock, beating its wings to fly to Tank he gripped it's talon's in the giant's shoulder.
 "Don't struggle, he is a phoenix so moving you is nothing so long as you don't throw a fit. Going back the way you came will only cause more damage."
 The bird slowly but surly lifting the Tank began to set the male down on the stage before releasing him, with the deed done Aurora once again closed the book, a word of thanks as the beast vanished.

Hearing a voice at her side she simply mentioned with her head. "The one before us of course, do not worry, we were simply waiting for others."

Indeed she was, in the span of a few words more were coming, females if she was not mistaken. Each one having a different voice and different way of moving. Intimidating to say the least.


[System]
Age
17
Place of Residence
166 Everbrook Circle
Personality Traits
The Prescott's are known for being fiscally responsible, intelligent, upstanding citizens of Everbrook. Abbie Prescott is an anomaly if one would expect such things from the daughter of James Prescott and Laura Lee Sparrow.

Abigail isn't the greatest of students, not particularly book smart, nor is she particularly the model daughter of such a family. The only thing in common she holds with her father's family is being fiscally responsible, though she sort of has to be considering the fact that she is not allowed great privilege despite being from a prestigious family. She has no credit card, no allowance, and is expected to be "self-determined"; to earn everything that she wants. It's easy to be fiscally responsible when you are the only girl on Everbrook Circle without expendable income. In fact, the only thing she has is a car and that was only because her Sweet Sixteen allowed her to finally get one. She didn't even think she was getting one until her mother put the keys in her hand.

She hates it. She hates all of it. But it's life.

Speaking of her manners, Abbie isn't exactly mean, but she does channel her frustrations in a less than tactful manner. She's sarcastic, often at other's expenses. She thinks she has it just as bad as kids from Courtland Street, even if it's not exactly comparable. She's rather self-centered and when she gets mad she seems to make everything out to be much worse than it is. Her own cousin, Samuel, thinks she's full of hot air. For those that know Abbie they probably wouldn't contest that much.

That said, Abbie isn't a sociopath or even a "Queen Bee" type. She certainly frames herself to be an alpha, but a lot of that seems to be more present on the basketball court rather than in casual conversation. Whereas her family prefers social niceties, Abbie doesn't. In fact, Abbie's honest demeanor can be oft mistaken for antagonistic japes when she is merely being blunt. Though sometimes it would help if she could read the room, or measure her responses better. Of all the kids born from the families on Everbrook Circle, one could probably do worse than Abigail "Abbie" Prescott. That much is for sure. At least she won't brag about having more money than you, after all.
Family History/Backstory
The Prescott Family is one of the oldest families in the city of Everbrook.

Abigail, Abbie to anyone that knows her, has had a motor since she was old enough to walk. Despite only growing to be five-foot-three she has shown an affinity for competition and a flair for the dramatic. Every single girls' basketball team in Everbrook has highlighted her talents at the guard position. Still, the spotlight hasn't made her happy enough. She wants to be free of Everbrook and while she has the prestige that a member of the Prescott Family deserves, she lacks the opportunity. In over nine generations not a single Prescott has left Everbrook. Some who wanted to never got the chance to.

But family secrets are elusive, flying under Abbie's radar with relative ease. She's not particularly inquisitive due to her hyper-focused and self-centered nature. Her Sweet Sixteen wasn't too long ago and the idea of a collegiate basketball career has not yet crossed her mind. Right now she's hoping to drag Everbrook's sorry excuse for a girls' basketball program to a State and National Championship. However, she might not get that chance. The upcoming summer is strange and full of misfortune. She had been called up to a basketball camp… but her invitation was canceled last minute when the camp was canceled. When she tried to drive out of Everbrook for a festival in another state the only way out was blocked off by a traffic accident on six different occasions.

What the hell was going on?
Other Info
* The Prescott's are rather wealthy. They have run the Prescott Cider Mill since 1736 and own several non-essential businesses in Everbrook. One member of the family was even Mayor during the First World War.
* Her mother comes from a long line of bankers. Her grandfather runs the Prescott National Bank.
* Her car is a 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner. She hoped for something more modern, but it's Everbrook. There are still functional payphones, after all.
* She has a part-time job working at the local supermarket -- though its more of a general store.

[User]
---

Location: Court Street, Everbrook Public Library

---

Ruby was parking her bike at the remaining unoccupied bike stands when she heard her name being mentioned. You would think that being so early in the vacation, the town's only library would be relatively empty, but no, there seemed to be sizeable crowd already gathering at the library, and perhaps, just perhaps, it being the town's only library had something to do with it. That was most probably the reason unless everyone here today had the same thoughts of her. Since when did people come so early in the vacation to the library anyway?

She turned around to find out who the owner of the voice was, and found it to be none other than Astrid Evans. At least that would who she would be, if she managed to get her name right. She didn't exactly know the girl well, but Ruby was at least 85% sure that the dark-haired girl is indeed Astrid Evans. The one with the Funeral home. Yep, the more she thought about it, the more sure she was that she had gotten the other girl's identity right. "Yup. I'm Ruby. You're Astrid right?" Finishing up with parking her bike, she spoke up once more. "Here to return some books? I am." She gestured towards her deformed backpack. "More than some actually."

Not delaying any longer, Ruby entered the library and ended towards the bookdrop area and emptied the contents of her backpack, temporarily freeing herself of the burden she had been carrying. She was just about to head towards the Mystery section of the library when she saw William heading towards the front of the library with what looked like an apprehensive and slightly worried expression on his face.

At least that was what she thought it looked like. He mentioned something about it getting really cold all of a sudden, and then realization dawned onto her. It was definitely a whole lot colder than it usually was. "It most certainly is. Now that you mention it, I don't remember it ever being this cold before." Will wasn't the only one that jumped when the loud slams came from the back of the library. Loud sounds tend to frightened her, and she too jumped, giving her a good fright.

[Assistant]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes Astrid wondered how people could be naturally pretty. While they had not had much in the way of a friendship or fleeting acquaintanceship, she knew her enough to notice her in passing. It also helped that the town so small insuring that Astrid almost had to notice Ruby Han's fathers' picture in the local supermarket showcasing that he was the manager of their humble grocery operation.  "Yeah, at least the last time I checked. Although nowadays I wouldn't mind being anyone else that doesn't live here. It's like this town is preventing me from leaving and not just because of the quarantine." Astrid didn't really know why she was venting her frustrations to a girl she barely knew, but she always felt comfortable around people she didn't know and that weren't from Everbrook circle.

The unintentional or intentional yoda reference made her giggle in what was otherwise dreary day in a string of dreary days.  "I didn't know you studied that much or that someone could study that much. If you need any help lugging those around, I can help you. By the way, do you know why the parking lot is so crowded? I expected it to be busy but not this much." Her confusion was only further mounted as they made their way inside and she caught the sight of not one, but several of her peers from Everbrook high in attendance.  "What is going on here?" she pondered in her head, her tongue jabbing the insides of her cheek. It kind of felt like the breakfast club with all of them meeting up so conveniently like this especially with the several stereotypes surround them. There was William the bible thumper, Walter the class clown, Abbie the mean girl, and even your resident jock.

Distracted by the crowd she hadn't noticed Ruby had left her side, until the crippling cold waved over her like a blanket. It was suffocating to say the least. The cold instantly reminded her of the funeral home, the morgue more specifically. The same cold she felt when she held her moms' hand for the last time at the wake. It was a feeling that she no longer wished to feel and so her body instinctively reacted by crossing her arms and rubbing her biceps. Without stating the obvious she tried to be more transparent in her questions than William,  "Why is everyone here in the first place?"

[User]
---

 Everbrook Public Library
Entrance, May 28th 2020.

---

 "It's Will," he responded to the Canadian girl. He couldn't fault her for not knowing his name, after all, he didn't even have an idea on how to pronounce hers. Still, her assertations were right; he felt something was off. His sister had a big book that went into all of the different signs of a haunting. It had been based on one of those stupid ghost-hunting shows that had been all the rage a decade ago. But he remembered several of the signs quite well.

Unexplained temperature changes. Strange glitches with technology. Unusual smells. Objects moving and strange sounds. Animals reacting in strange, unnatural ways. "Temperature changes and strange sounds..." he muttered to himself. It wasn't enough to go around shouting "GHOSTS! We've got ghosts here!" He was weird enough at school without getting his ass kicked every day. Besides, he still had to survive senior year.

Other girls were also mentioning the cold, and Will nodded to them walking over to one of the vents in the room, running his hand in front of it. Nothing. "The air's not running," he mentioned, and looked back to the stacks. "I came here to get a book from the basement, but when I tried to go down the stairwell, the door was locked. The staff elevator isn't working either." Glitches with technology too. Three signs.

He started walking towards the stacks again, looking towards the corner door that led to the stairwell. It was wide open as if something was holding it open. He turned back to the others. "I swear when I got here the door was shut and lock-" As he turned back to the stacks, he could see the soft motion of cloth in the corner of the door as if a woman's dress had moved enough to be seen.

Like someone was holding the door open for them. Will looked to Jenny Emerson, who was either so involved in her shitty Netflix show that she didn't even register the change in temperature and the commotion from the teenagers in the room, or she just didn't feel anything. Not that Will thought she'd be much help anyway.

"I'm going to check it out." Sarah was always going on about exploring and finding the unknown. This was his chance to do the same. He started walking down the stacks, seeing the door close gently as he moved towards the door. "Is-is anyone there? Is anyone in the stairwell?" No answer. The only way to move now was forward, for him at least. Anyone else was free to follow or stand around and talk, or wait. But you would have to be a blind idiot to think that there was nothing weird at all going on.

[Assistant]
Abbie crossed her arms, after the books she had been hauling were returned.

She wasn't sure why she had stuck around instead of leaving, but there was just something about the library today that had drawn more people than she had seen at once, especially considering there was no incentive to be at the library in the first place. But no, she was supposed to believe everyone else had decided to return books or use library computers at the exact same time.

"That's a good question." Abbie uttered as the boy, Will, ushered closer to the stairwell. She raised a brow before smirking wryly to answer the other girl's comment about the library. "The library hasn't been this active in a hundred years."

It was a joke, a smart-ass like retort, but given Will decided he wanted to play detective instead of leaving the library or minding his own business she felt the need to cut the tension in the air. It was an old library, it happened to get cold all the time. Abbie didn't really see the need to be this fussy or insistent. She kept her arms crossed as Will called out, wondering if anyone was there, as if this was an episode of Scooby Doo! and he was Shaggy. Based on the cracks in his voice she wondered if he was going to stammer "zoinks!" next. She rolled her eyes before leaning into the nearest wall as she looked over how many exact teenagers had filled into the library at once. Her joke about the library haven't had this many visitors at once in a hundred years seemed to be a joke, but there was something strange about it.

Being a small town with one high school, she recognized all the faces. Though, nothing felt out of place. It was just weird they all ended up at the library at the same time. Not as weird as Will being Will, though. Her glance moved back to him as she waited for the mayor's daughter to sign off on her books and allow her to leave. Go get lunch. Something else.

"You're seriously going to poke around? Really?"


[System]
Sex: Male
Culture: Brittonian
Age: 23
Physical Description:

For all intents, Tristan resembles any other young nobleman who might reside in the court. He dresses finely, and stands both tall and proud. With a mop of brown hair that he keeps short, for the most part, and hazel-coloured eyes that always seem to shine with mirth. His face is fair, his skin pale, and any scars he has are more likely from childhood scrapes than battles. After all, his life is somewhat comfortable, to the observer. He does, however, keep himself fit, from a combination of practicing swordplay and archery, and dancing at events in court.

Occupation/Skillset:

Unknown by most, Tristan is a spy in the employ of the Duke. Well, it wouldn't do for people to know, after all – it would defeat the purpose, in fact. His duties mostly entail surveillance, gathering information that various nobles or merchants might try to conceal. Smuggling silk or spices, diplomatic sabotage, even the occasional murder – all these are Tristan's to uncover. Sometimes he relies on subterfuge, picking locks and climbing through windows, to get what he needs. Other times he uses deceit and charm.
And, of course, he has a fair number of skills that come from being noble, though not all. He has trained in swordsmanship, archery, and riding, learned how to dance, bargain, and strategize. These lend themselves to his overall skill.

Personality:

Tristan considers himself to be suave; and in a sense, he is not incorrect. He is intelligent, charming, elegant, and carries an air of confidence. But he can be arrogant, from time to time, and he is by no means wise. He has a tendency to be zealous, and this can lead to recklessness, or close calls. Due to his blood status, he might suffer from taunts or jeers from his peers, and this usually results in anger. Additionally, around others, he might act pompous, and foolish, though it is far from his actual self – it is a mask he wears, a façade, so that others don't suspect he knows more than he lets on.

Backstory:

Tristan is, in no uncertain terms, a bastard. He is the son of a servant woman, and a minor noble – Lord Aymon Veneti, low enough in power that he wasn't among the most renowned members of the Duke's court, but high enough that he had a measure of recognition. His father was both married and had an heir before Tristan, but that is not to say that he was ignored. In fact, he had a noble upbringing alongside his half-brother, Reinald, and when she was born, his half-sister Adelaide. He was snubbed by his step-mother, of course, but he thought nothing of it for a great portion of his life.

When not being educated by the harsh tutors, or playing games with his brother, he spent time with his mother. Despite the scandal of her son, she had been kept on at the Veneti household, to the Lady Veneti's protests. He would watch her tend to her duties. She kept out of sight like servants should, but Tristan eventually became skilled in identifying where she and the other servants walked, where they'd go to conceal themselves – and he emulated them. Such was his life.

But, eventually, it could no longer last. When he was in the middle of his adolescence, the Lord Aymon took ill, and would succumb a month after. The change was swift. His father was mourned, by both him and his siblings. With Reinald taking over the household, the Lady Veneti stepped in to advise him. Tristan barely saw his brother anymore, but that was to be expected, given he now had duties to attend to. And as time went on, Tristan was given a summons by Reinald, to speak in private. Apparently, his step-mother had been whispering to him that Tristan might plot against him, in a bid for power, that even now he had to be careful of a dagger in his back. Despite Tristan having no such ambitions, they made an agreement, for the safety of both – Reinald from Tristan, and Tristan from the Lady Veneti – that Tristan should leave. That was how the young nobleman found his way to the Duke's court.

Announcing himself as Reinald's representative, he would attend court in his brother's stead. This covered the documentation of taxes, the crops grown and the serfs that died and were born. Missives were carried between the castle and the Veneti residence. One day, however, Tristan found himself bored, and whilst walking the corridors, saw another man, a noble higher in rank, acting unusual. He would check behind him and in front of him, and dodged into rooms and alcoves whenever a guard might pass by. Tristan, unwilling to challenge the man, would follow. He trailed the man for quite some time, into the catacombs, until he encountered his target and another man talking with one another, regarding some shipment of a kind. Though he didn't know the topic, he could tell that what these two men spoke about was neither meant to be heard by others, nor permitted by law. Stepping out of his hiding space, he confronted them. They responded by attempting to bribe him, and when he refused, kill him. His murder was prevented by a well-timed arrival of a fourth man, who swiftly detained the two.
This man himself was the Duke's spymaster. Like Tristan, he had been trailing the nobleman. The man in question had been suspected for a while now. But when the spymaster had noticed the youth doing the same, he observed him, instead. Tristan was told he had natural talent, to which he disagreed, but when he was offered a position, he knew it would be poorly advised for him to refuse. He was taken on as a spy-in-training, and the rest is history.

[User]
Ser Giles clasped his hands together as the introductions finished. "Well, we certainly have a diverse group here, eh?" He said, half to himself. A Grandmaster of the Knights Templar, a court mage, two mercenary-looking types, a nobleman and a noblewoman's lady. Perhaps not the flower of Brittonian knighthood he had wanted, but he could see the strengths of such a party. He stifled a yawn and stood.

"Well, we'd best retire for the evening. Another long day awaits us tomorrow — we must cross the Loire in the morning, and I hope to make the village of Brevis by midday. The mayor there is supposedly sympathetic to our cause, and may restock our provisions." Ser Giles said, and with that turned and strode into the night, leaving his new companions to sort themselves out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The morning brought with it a beautiful day, with clear skies and bright sunlight. Ser Giles, despite his early retirement, had slept poorly; thus he confronted the idyllic scenery with a sour mood. He struggled to maintain a cheerful front, but everything from his horse to the fit of his armor seemed to bother him.

The Loire river was unsurprisingly flooded, but not so much that they were unable to find a passable ford a short trip further downstream. They were still forced to dismount in order to lead their unwilling mounts across, and it was a slow, unpleasant journey across the river. The water was freezing, and upon arriving at the opposite bank, Ser Giles found that he had not secured his bedroll properly and that it was soaked through. Needless to say, his mood did not improve at the revelation.

It was not long before they were riding through deep forest, and the eastern road was a double cart track with the trees sometimes arched right over the road. However, the old forest was open, the great boles of the trunks sixty feet apart or more with little enough underbrush that they could ride two or three wide. The road was damp but firm, except in the deeper ruts where puddles of stagnant rainwater and mud still lingered. The native flora seemed washed-out from the heavy rainfall of the past few days, though hints of its true vibrant nature peeked out in places. The woods were so deep that it was difficult to gauge the passage of time, and Ser Giles had little idea how far they'd traveled on the narrow track.

Ser Giles gradually grew more tense; his shoulders became hunched, his eyes narrowed. The forest, surely once a peaceful and soothing sight, now appeared all at once menacing. The sharp angles of shadows seemed to reveal a malevolent aspect to the dense trees and vegetation, and Ser Giles grew concerned, his imagination placing a brigand in every shadow, a monster in every bush. Phantasmal creatures seemed to dart in and out of his vision, and twice he shouted certain they were under attack, only for it to be revealed that there was nothing there at all. Still, the visions persisted, and several times he swore he heard voices. This is all wrong, Ser Giles thought. Have I been bewitched?

Eventually it grew too much. With a cry he drew his longsword and slammed his visor down. "Gods damn it, show yourselves!" He roared, turning wildly in his seat.

The forest was quiet, and still.

Ser Giles felt a fool. He cursed, and went to sheathe his sword before belatedly noticing that he was very much alone. He turned and looked around him, and saw nothing and no one. His companions were gone. Ser Giles swallowed hard. How did he become separated?

"Alfred? Hugo?" He called out.

Instead of their voices, inhuman roars answered, and his spine went cold. Trolls.

[Assistant]
Alfred cursed in Welsh, the thread of ice snaking up his spine quelled only by the heat of his anger at having been deceived so easily - the Annwn, magic, the paranormal, it was his domain, his area of expertise, it was what he did for crying out loud! But then here he was, one moment having been watching Ser Giles grow more frustrated by the second, the next contemplating the effect of emotion on the ebb and flow of mana, and then alone in the cold of the woods. He had known something was wrong, but somehow he'd not had the initiative to act upon that knowledge, nor had he seen more specifically the nature of the wrongness.

He drew his sword. Nothing that affects the perception of an entire party like this could possibly have anything good in mind, so it was best to be ready for it.

In the distance, he quite possibly heard shouting - from which direction was hard to tell, who, as well. It sounded like a man. Alfred may have heard his own name being called, it was hard to be sure - the forest was a woolen blanket over his senses. What wasn't so hard to hear, however, was the sounds the followed - the unmistakable roaring of trolls. Instantly, the thread of ice won the battle, and Alfred felt chills dominate his nerves as he reflexively reached into a pocket and brought out a pair of iron cubes - reagents, a temporary source of power and augmentative factor for certain spells. Finite in nature - at least when they were as processed as these were - and limited in their ability to truly help, but when you're dealing with trolls you need just about everything you can get.

The cold iron in one hand, the grip of his sword in the other, he scanned the woods around himself looking for threats, or friends, or figures, or anything else obvious.

And then he closed his eyes, and felt the embrace of the Annwn rise about himself - sight, but not as most know it. What would he see of the woods when looking like this?


[System]
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Class: Monk (Level 0)

What you want to be when you grow up?
Jatan aspires to be a master monk and to one day run his own monastery. He believes it is his duty to set others on a path to spiritual enlightenment, as his master did for him.

Who is your mentor?
When Jatan mysteriously arrived as a baby in Loudwater, his parents could not be found. Lacking a home, the orphan was taken in by the head monk at the local monastery: Edgar Blackheart. Edgar became a mentor and spiritual guide for Jatan. He has earned Jatan's unwavering admiration and loyalty, and Jatan hopes to become a head monk himself one day.

Brief Biography:
Little is known about Jatan's parents. The elven boy was left abandoned on the streets of Loudwater late one night. The local monastery that Jatan, like many orphans, was taken to quickly became his home. Although he is an elf, he adapted quickly to many of the human rituals he encountered. Particularly fascinated by the monastery's patron deity, Torm, Jatan delved into religious and spiritual studies. He strives to promote justice and protect the weak, as any true servant of Torm would. In addition to religious studies, Jatan was also taught basic martial arts. Early morning runs with the other boys, solitary prayer, tumbling and combat practice, and meditation became normalized parts of his daily routine. As an elf, Jatan often felt at odds with the other boys, all of whom were human. Although he was never picked on outright, he would rarely be invited to free hour activities, so he spent a lot of time to himself. Most of this time was used to read poetry, which Jatan views as an avenue through which he can become closer to Torm. Though he will never publicly admit it, Jatan longs to befriend other elves, find his parents, and reconnect to that lost part of his heritage.

Recently, Jatan fled the monastery and has taken to hiding in Loudwater. The forced religion hit the monastery even harder than the rest of the town. Few monks agreed to give up their faith. Locals stormed the monastery, dragging Edgar out and publicly executing him. Edgar became the first of several such executions. Knowing in his heart that he must do what he can to resist this tyranny, Jatan has holed up in a shady part of town where he can continue his worship of Torm in secret and bide his time until an opportunity for justice arises.

What person(s) of interest do you know where you are from? Who all do you have a relationship with?:
Jatan knew his mentor, Edgar, (now deceased). He knows many of the other boys and leaders of the monastery, though he was never particularly close to anyone except Edgar. Moreover, many of the monks have dispersed after Edgar's execution, and Jatan has no way to find them.

Equipment:
 - A backpack
 - Small Hunting Knife
 - Spare Robes
 - A canteen
 - Standard Peasant Garb
 - A quarterstaff he took from the monastery before he left (Jatan left his few silver pieces behind to cover the expense, of course).
 - A small book of poetry by famous Elvish poet Arphenion

Class Skills:
 - Basic meditation
 - Basic unarmed combat training
 - Basic tumbling
 - Basic quarterstaff training
 - Dodge: small chance to avoid basic attacks that are seen beforehand
 - Potion Use: Some familiarity with holy potions, can slightly enhance their effect

Life Skills:
 - Literate in common (not Elven, as he was orphaned and never learned the language or cultural practices of the Elves)
 - Basic knowledge of poetry
 - Religious knowledge about Torm

Clues:
Realizes that the townsfolk are controlled by some type of magic.

Was told by the monks at his monastery that "Even Gods have enemies."

[User]
"I have to know more, I think there's something important in what is happening here."

The words rang in the air. The short girl hadn't even spoken particularly loudly. But to Jatan, she may as well have been shouting at the top of her lungs. He had been watching her ever since he ducked by on his way to the hanging. This was his moment, and he intended to take it. He had to. For Edgar, for all the other victims. For Torm.

Weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, he slipped up behind the girl. It seemed she was dismissing her male companion.*Make these words count*, Jatan told himself as he waited to catch the girl alone.*A lot depends on them.*

A man dangled from the rope. Like a mouse held aloft by its tail as the grinning cat plays with its desperate victim, this man writhed helplessly in the air. Squirming. Gasping. Kicking. And then, nothing.

*Make these words count.*

A hand slips from his pocket.

*Make these words count.*

Fingers uncurl gently over the girl's shoulder to alert her to his presence.

*Make these words count.*

Leaning in. Closer. Closer.

*Make these words count.*

Barely more than a whisper.

*MAKE THESE WORDS COUNT!*

"If you want answers, follow me."

Cutting left, out of the crowd, he moved quickly, but not too quickly, towards the slum.

[Assistant]
"I didn't mean we should leave, I meant we need to meet back up with Agurious before deciding any-" Aiden cut himself off when he saw Jatan move behind Brisa and reach up to her. Aiden drew back a fist and was about to deck the guy when something he said stopped him.

**"If you want answers, follow me."**

Shocked, Aiden slowly lowered his fist as the boy scuttled away. He looked down at Brisa, "I'll follow you." he said, "but we must make haste."

[User]
Brisa was as startled as Aiden was. The elf boy had popped out of the crowd without her noticing, then again she hadn't been looking at the kids in the crowd. That was stupid of her. She wanted to smack herself but she didn't. That was the obvious solution, find a local kid and ask them what was going on. They would know, be less afraid to talk to her, and she would be less nervous about talking to them.

"Come on Aiden" she whispered. "Lets go, better than trying to talk to the priestess," which had been her plan if she couldn't get an adult to talk to them. She didn't wait, just tucked her shoulder bag closer to her, and tried to follow Jatan as best she could. The kid was fast, and he was able to weave through the people with an ease she envied. Of course he knew where he was going, she only knew she had to follow him.

She hooked a hand around Aiden's arm, fearing they would get seperated. She had already lost Argurios, well not lost him but they were separated and she didn't want to be alone. Not really. For all her attempted bravado she was afraid. This was much easier.

"Hey" she said softly when she finally caught up to the kid "my friend is...shopping...right now." She hoped Argurios was being careful. With everyone in the town square it would be a good time to...acquire some things they might need. She didn't approve of stealing, but in some cases it was unavoidable and they really needed supplies to go onward. "I'm supposed to meet him and I don't want him to worry. Can we, I don't know, talk near the merchant row so we can watch for him? Is it safe?"

***

As the crowd thinned the priestess returned to*her*shrine and her assistants returned to theirs. For such a small town there were a dozen shrines to Eshowdow, and now, with this demonstration, they would take the time to convert and erect a few more. Too much unrest in the town, the god was not pleased.

The enforcers, supposedly bound to the priestess, walked the streets herding the locals back to their jobs and whatever they were doing before the gong sounded. Of course they had another use, a use known only to them and their god. Their presence kept the town in line, they enforce the order, and when the time came they would either convert, or "handle" anyone who needed it. For now though, they marched through the town keeping "order." Looking for anyone who might be causing trouble or breaking the law. Hangings were always a good tool to help keep order, they loved an excuse to arrange one.

[Assistant]
After the group split up, Argurios went towards, where he thought would be, a market place. After a few minutes Argurios managed to get through the crowd. Once out of the mass of people, he noticed that most shops and stalls have been closed. Even the one shop which seemed to be in a size of his farm had the sign "closed" on it. 'What is going on here? All the shops are closed in the middle of a day. This is preposterous.' Argurios whispered to himself. "Depends. If you're a stranger to this town then your view is understandable. But if you would stay in this town, for… Let's say two weeks. You would see thing differently."
Argurios didn't expect an answer to his question; neither did he notice anyone else around him. Startled he turned towards where the voice came. At first he saw nothing. Only a dark, damp street filled with trash and some used up material. Then he noticed a pile of trash that had a shape of a cone. On it laid an old leather hat. "Good eye, I must say" Said the trash and out of it came an old grey man. His size was far too big to fit into the small trash. Amazed Argurios looked at the man then at the trash, but the trash was gone. "It's just a simple trick my boy. No need to fry your brains over it. Anyhow, my name is Willang and you are?" For a moment Argurios just stood there, blinking. He never saw someone do that before. And for his entire life, he believed that only a smaller item could be put inside a bigger one, and not the other way around. Grey man nudged Argurios, bringing him back to reality. "Oh right, um…. My name is Argurios. Pleased to meet you. " Argurios finally managed to introduce himself. He shaked the man's hand and bowed a little.
"If you know so much about this town, would you be kind enough to show me, just where I can buy supplies?" Though Argurios didn't know the grey man, he sensed him to be a good natured man. He also hoped that, since he has no idea how thing go in this town, the old man would be willing to show him around. "Yes I will. But be prepared to run or fight. This town is not what it seems. Come, I can see you are a curios man. I will answer your question as we walk. And I would advise you to keep those beast stalkers senses at their peak." The grey man said and began walking towards the only shop that would be open at the time. Argurios followed him and, as suggested, kept his senses on their peak. "Sir what did you mean by Beast stalker?" Asked Argurios. He never heard of such a phrase before neither did he know its meaning. "I'm amazed you don't know about it, but I will explain that later. First I must tell you about this town. You see…." The grey man began explaining the history and the strange events taking place in the city. Argurios listened intensely at first, but after some time he listened partly. Most of his energy went to reading his surroundings.

As he walked among the crowd signalling them to go back to their everyday duties, he felt pride and power swell in him. Before everyone laugh at him now he was a man of statue. "Raglor, what are you doing, come back to the farm." Dreknor turned and found an old man speaking to him. Though the man seemed familiar to him he couldn't remember from where he would know him. Not knowing the man troubled him. And so Dreknor fast walked in the opposite direction of the speaking man. After turning behind a corner, he saw a group of children hurry away from the hangings. One seemed familiar, but the other two didn't. "We must make sure that the outsiders do not interfere with our plans. And so try to prevent any kind of socializing between the outsiders and the towns' folk." These words hit Dreknor as he thought about it. For him this was clearly a violation to the rules. Draknor looked around to aks another enforcer for help, but he was alone. And so, alone he rushed after the kids. The joy of capturing the offenders, already blooming in his heart.

[User]
Aiden held on tight, not wanting to lose Brisa in the crowd. But he couldn't help as if they were being watched. Not just by the simply townsfolk, but something that had a bit more...*interest*in where they may be heading. He quickly glanced back as he was running and saw some boy tailing them. After a little longer he checked again and he was still chasing them. "Either this kid has friends following us, or we got trouble following us. Both situations can't be good."

He was holding onto Brisa's hand with his left, and he kept his hand on the club at hid belt as he ran.

[Assistant]
"My friend is...shopping... right now. I'm supposed to meet him and I don't want him to worry. Can we, I don't know, talk near the merchant row so we can watch for him? Is it safe?"

It would be riskier to speak out in public. That much was certain. Still, Jatan knew that this may be his only chance to talk to the pair. He didn't want to scare off his only potential allies. "I think I know where your friend may be headed. Most of the shops are closed during the middle of the day, but there's one in particular that's still open." Gesturing forward with his hand, Jatan slowed his pace to walk beside them.

He took the moment to really study the two. An odd pair to say the least. The girl was short, and had a bit of a boyish appearance. She had to be pretty tough to be traveling on her own at her age. The boy towered above her, his eyes darting to and fro, and his hand gripping his club.*His hand gripping his club? Calm down, calm down, he's probably just nervous.*

Trying to ease the tension, Jatan flashed the pair an awkward smile. "You must not be from around here. I'm Jatan, by the way."


[System]
Age: 24
Height: 6'-0"
Weight: 170lbs
Allegiance: Aspirian Royalty
Distinguishing Traits: Wherever the party is, Cas is bound to be there also. He's a free spirit with a tendency to act without thinking through the consequences, although due to his cushioned upbringing and high status, he rarely has to face them. Despite his wild lifestyle, however, he has a soft side and has been known for taking in stray and injured animals he finds in the streets of the capital city.

Short Bio: As the son of the reigning king, Atlas Maydestone, Caspian has lived the entirety of his life in the capital of Aspiria. He was born with a silver spoon in hand, enjoying the finest luxuries the country had to offer even when he was as young as five years old. This experience shaped him as a person. He grew up seeing the glass half-full and believing Aspiria was every bit as perfect and amazing as his father wanted him to think it was.

As a child, he spent most of his education being groomed to take over as the next king but never really took his future duties seriously. In his mind, it was so far off, there was no reason to worry about it. That is, until his father's health took a sudden decline when he turned eighteen. Suddenly slapped in the face by the reality that he was actually going to be the next leader of an entire country, he began to pay more attention to his teachers and did his best to understand all the different jobs he would have when his father died. However, the more he studied, the more he realized how unqualified he was for such an important role.

To deal with his rising sense of insecurity, Cas delved back into any and every social event he could find around the capital city. Partying and drinking with friends took the edge off his fears and helped him to forget about the impending future of his kingship. Deep down, he knew his coping strategy wouldn't change anything, but for now, it was good enough to keep him from getting absorbed in the weight of it all. He would just continue to put it off until he had to face it, the same way he handled the Scourge.

The rebellion (better known as the Scourge by everyone who lived in the capital) was the other big, glaring problem he tried not to think about. To make the enemies seem less imposing, he and his friends would make crude jokes about them and discuss all the creative ways the king could punish them for treason when they were eventually defeated by the state, but secretly, he was always on the lookout for anyone who seemed suspicious. As the crown prince of Aspiria, he'd heard the threats the rebels spat about himself and his family, and he was concerned about what could happen if they ever managed to get inside the stronghold walls.

He just hoped the military was strong enough that he would never have to find out.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
"You heard me," Miles grinned at Iris cheekily, getting her back for calling him a sore loser. "I stand by it. You were a rebel of Aspiria, and now you're a rebel of rebels. It's fitting." He couldn't tell at all if she was reciprocating his playful flirting or if she was just teasing him in a friendly manner. She was too personable to differentiate between the two. However, she had yet to push him away when he'd sat beside her on the sofa, so he took it as a green light to keep making an effort without pushing her boundaries too much. Besides, it was amusing to poke fun at her. She was a good sport, and she return each verbal blow with a swing of her own that only egged him on.

Meanwhile, Caspian felt restless as he watched one of his closest friends sidle up to Iris so comfortably. He wished he could just say something to ward Miles off, but his tongue was tied as long as they were trying to keep their relationship—or what was left of it—a secret from everyone else. Additionally, he was no longer certain if it was even his place to tell other men off from her at all. If she had decided that she wanted to test the waters with someone else, he couldn't stop her.

He averted his gaze uneasily. They had exchanged 'I love you's at the rebels' prison, but what if it had just been the heat of the moment to her? In retrospect, they hadn't been together for very long, so their ties to one another weren't very deep. Maybe all it had taken was one week apart for her to decide she wanted to be with someone else. Of course, it was also possible that he was overreacting and that nothing had changed between them, but it was hard to stay positive when it looked like she was chatting up another man right in front of him. His initial excitement to see her again was quickly being replaced with hot tendrils of jealousy and doubt.

"You don't owe anyone anything," Miles waved a hand dismissively. "We're helping because we want to, not because we want something from you. And I swear to god, Nox-Fleuret, if you try to pay me back, I will kick your ass to the curb." As he spoke the fake warning, he poked her shoulder with one finger to emphasize the point.

When Iris mentioned Jacob, Cas risked turning back to her, surprised to hear that Jacob had been the one to send her to the hospital. The guard hadn't mentioned that when they had talked before. "He did?" he mused, wondering why Jacob had gotten involved at all. Usually he said he was too busy to deal with the affairs at the penitentiary, so he had obviously made an exception for her. He doubted he would ever be given an answer to the question though. The guard was far too reserved to explain what had caused him to make Iris his personal responsibility.

The sound of Iris's hands clapping together pulled the prince from his thoughts, and he nodded at her idea. Putting his own sour mood aside, he agreed that they should celebrate now that the worst was over. She deserved to have closure after everything she'd been through. "I don't know," he said contemplatively, trying to come up with an idea. "Miles, this is your house. What do you think we should do?"

"I have a few ideas," his friend smiled mischievously. "Champagne, takeout from a restaurant of Iris's choice, and, if anyone wants to have a little more fun, something from my stash."

"Ugh, more alcohol?" Cas wrinkled his nose. "My stomach is still recovering from the last time we got drunk."

"Then don't have any," Miles shrugged. "That's what the other stuff is for."

"I think I'll just stick to the food," Cas shook his head. He wasn't very fond of the drugs other high borns like his friend indulged in either. He used them every once in a while, but he preferred not to touch the stuff unless he was feeling especially daring at a party. Usually when Jay and Miles got high, he was the one making sure they didn't do anything stupid before they sobered up.

"Suit yourself," Miles rolled his eyes and turned back to Iris. "So, what are you in the mood for? I bet I can name a restaurant that makes any kind of food you would want to eat."

[Assistant]
Nox-Fleuret. The family name, the one that had been proudly brandished across the rebellion and now it just left a bit of a sour taste in her mouth. Though it was just a name it was her fathers name, she couldn't remember what her mothers last name was else she would have asked by now to be called it. I guess it doesn't really matter? To Iris however it did, finding herself getting wrapped up just about her last name, she didn't even bite back at the tease that Miles had said on kicking her to the curb around paying him back. Already he knew she was the type to pay people back, finding it hard to except kindness without some form of repayment. Caspian knew this about her also, but she didn't have the heart to fight back on the matter.

Smiling at Cas at the mention of Jacob and how he had sent her to the hospital she nodded, "Probably because of you and I don't think it's anything to with authority. I think he believes in you like I do." As much as she knew they had to be careful she still wanted him to know that she believed in him, hopefully he also took it as a she still cared for him. Maybe he would read into it more, she hoped he would because it hurt not being able to tell him her feelings for him and ask if they were okay.

Turning her gaze to Miles as Cas stated it was his home and what did he think she shook her head grimacing, "I don't like your ideas. Especially when it comes to drinking." Although it had been fun, she wasn't a huge fan of drinking, or anything else for that matter when he mentioned his stash. Wrinkling her own nose, she shook her head agreeing with Cas on the idea that more alcohol was not the way to go with this.

"Food however sounds great; I've regained my appetite and let's just say the food here is amazing. It's certainly been a treat." Perking up at the idea of food, at the start she had been a bit cautious still feeling sorry for herself but she had soon warmed up to the idea of eating and now it was always exciting to experience the new foods that she could taste. It was the same when she had stayed with Cas, they always had such fancy food that she had never tried before and it now felt strange thinking on the slops they used to eat back in the districts.

"Whatever we have will certainly be better than anything I could ever cook myself." Grimacing as she thought on the stale bread, she had offered Cas back when he was locked in her basement. Not that was something she had cooked because there wasn't much food available to cook for him at the time because whatever money her family had was always spent on alcohol to appease her father. "I'll be honest, I'm not that great when it comes to food. I've not really had much choice before, so I am happy to let you guys pick. I'm sure it will be amazing whatever you choose."


[System]
The Basics
Age: 10
Gender: Female
Species: Human

On-Hand
Daily clothing: A Black Sweater Dress, a pair of white stockings, a pair of Black Combat Boots, and a Golden Cross Necklace.
Weapon: Tomahawk and a Combat Knife.
Equipment: A Beige Satchel containing four water bottles, a pack of boxed juices, several boxes of raisins, extra clothing, and some apples, a Water Canteen, and a Leather Fanny Pack containing several gold coins, a rabbit's foot, a mini Bible, and a pocket watch.
Extra clothing: A Floral Dress, a Brown Sweater, and a pair of dark blue jeans.

Elementals and Abilities
Elementals: Spiritual and Lightning
Abilities: Communication with spirits, manipulation and creation of electricity.

Companions
Zinx, a four year old cat with the ability to speak English.

Biography
Elizabeth was born fourteen years after her brother, Johnathon Hunter Willow, to Annalise and Eliot Willow. At the time of Elizabeth's birth, Annalise was thirty-two years old and Eliot was thirty-eight. The couple had been shunned in the small town where they resided not only for their six year age difference, but also for the fact that Annalise had given birth after the age of thirty, which was breaking tradition in the community. The Willow family was a reserved one, never attending any town events, never responding to visiting neighbors, and never seeming to come out of their home.

The reality that most were not aware of was that Eliot was a high leader for a Demon Hunting division in their quaint, quiet little town. Missing persons reports, suicides, and homicides without suspects began increasing at a large rate for the past ten years before Elizabeth was born. Eliot was called down to inspect and investigate. And when Elizabeth was barely three years old, her father left one evening and never returned.

Overcome with grief, Annalise spent the next four years traveling away from home to search for her husband, leaving Elizabeth to be cared for by Johnathon. Being seventeen at the time the responsibility of caring for a toddler was dumped on him, Johnathon was neither a good brother nor guardian. It was during her time alone that Elizabeth learned to care and fend for herself. Soon, it became apparent that she would follow in her father's footsteps.

When Elizabeth was just seven years old, she left her home and her brother behind, knowing that he would never miss her. Within the first six months, Elizabeth was almost murdered. She was small and virtually strength-less, and a sleek, black wolf much larger than the average mini-van leaped upon her, teeth bared, snarling, out to kill, and specifically, out to kill her. Had it not been for Mason Timothy, a wandering hunter who happened to have been a very good friend of Eliot's, Elizabeth would have been dinner.

Mason took Elizabeth in. He had no home of his own; he was a traveling hunter. Though he didn't have much to offer, he did give her the equipment, weapons, and gear she carries around today. He helped her to learn to use the weapons he had gifted her. He taught her to survive. He taught her to hunt. And before long, Elizabeth's eyes were much older than her body. She'd had more personal experiences with murder, death, and tragedy than any other average ten year old. And just as she'd begun growing fond of jolly, cheerful Mason Timothy, he vanished. Just like her father.

Now, Elizabeth wanders. Some part of her hopes that maybe, just maybe, she will come across her father, Mason, or her mother. Another part of her hopes that she never does.

[User]
In Elizabeth's barely-conscious state, she recalled the feeling of being lifted. Not as if her spirit was finally crossing over to the other side, either to join the angels or the demons, but as if she were being carried in someone's arms. It was in her instinct to struggle, but she couldn't. This caused her to feel distressed. Either she was being taken off by a human who was going to try to care for her (and inevitably, find out the secrets that were best left to be known by the Demon Hunting community) or she was being taken off by a demon that would either turn her over to their leader or torture her or kill her or eat her or-

Calm down, a voice inside of her said. After all, the only thing she could do was hang limp as she was carried. There wasn't much that worrying herself into full unconsciousness would do for her, other than possibly eliminate the chance of waking up.

The next feeling Elizabeth knew was sudden warmth, and then the sound of a door being slammed shut. Only moments after, she was lain upon something soft, cozy, and comfortable - a bed. What bliss it was to be lying upon a proper, comfortable bed. Back home, at Mason's shack, she slept upon a straw cot that Mason had fashioned specifically for her. This time, she could feel herself falling asleep, and what a nice feeling it was. However, her danger senses were on high alert, and she pushed herself to consciousness.

Elizabeth didn't immediately push herself to a sitting position like she might would have had she not had specific training in Demon Hunting and the dangers it brought. Instead, she cracked her eyes open and slid them side to side. Beside the bed, she could see only a glimpse of a person, because her eyes could not see that far sideways. Slowly, she turned at a slight angle toward the person and was a bit taken aback to see a girl not much older than her lounging upon the couch. At this time, she made her consciousness present. She coughed, gently sitting up, and looked at the girl.

"Where am I?" she asked in a soft, feeble voice, feigning innocence.

[Assistant]
Anya was partly asleep by the time the girl had regained consciousness, and partly simply not paying attention lost in her own thoughts. When the girl coughed she snapped back into reality, jumping slightly. "Ooh, you're awake!" Anya shouted happily. "Well, right now you're in my apartment. Found you half dead in the snow, no one else really cared soo I decided to bring you here." Anya got up headed for the microwave "Oh, and don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. I don't really..do that..anymore unless it's a baddie." she called over her shoulder. Retrieving the bowl of soup from the microwave she walked back over sitting it on the nightstand beside the bed. "Also figured you'd be hungry SOO I heated you a bowl of soup. It's been a long time since I was your age so I wasn't really sure what little kids prefer to eat these days" Anya spoke, shrugging, before resuming her seat on the couch near the bed.

To anyone else but Anya what she was saying sounded completely psychotic and would probably get the person committed nigh instantly, but to Anya it was completely normal conversation. I mean, normal so far as her standards go. She thought that maaayybe she should tone down the weird, seeing as the kid seemed to be a normal kid and not a vampire or anything like her, but she didn't.

"Don't worry, the soup is perfectly safe to eat, go ahead." Anya said, smiling, one of her fangs showing. "Ohh, right, I almost forgot to tell you my name! I'm Anya, what about you?" This time smiling fully with her fangs showing.

[User]
David had found trouble, again. Of course he always went looking for it. He had performed a future seeing ritual two days ago to discover three werewolves who lured a couple young girls into the woods on the night of the full moon, killing them just before dawn. He'd spent a day and half attempting to find the location where it had occured. When they arrived he loaded his silver rounds and said a quiet prayer, none of them could have been more than a year older than him, children all of them. As the five of them laughed and joked he waited, hour after hour watching them drink and party.

Finally when the two girls were worn out the boys stepped out into the moonlight. Fur sprouted from them and they howled like wolves, the girls scared began to back up against the rocks near David. That's when he jumped. "Stay back!" He yelled as his shotgun blasted silver pellets into the two closet to him. The remaining wolf darted off, beginning to circle in growth, now having a large feast all to himself.

David spoke, hoping to convince the beast to leave."I am a Solomon, if you choose to fight you will die as your friends did. You can leave and never return or die." He stated, the wolf-man charged from the foliage, ready to tear the English boy to shreds. Yet he shoved the cat head of the staff towards wolf it reeled back in fear before six bullets pierced it's heart killing it.

He turned back to the women. "Go now and forget what you saw here... If you tell others more of the beasts will only come after you." He warned before the girls scrambled away, next he began to purify grounds they had killed upon freeing spirits who had not found closure. Finally he burned the bodies of the Werewolves and spread the ash around, should other packs be near they would depart quickly. Nothing scared off wolves like smelling their own dead.

Making way back into the city he could just barely see the sun rising. He loved the cold, Chicago reminded the British boy of his home in London. He paused however as he returned to town, he saw a young girl picking another girl and walking away with her, that's when it struck him. That was the Vampire hunter, she hunted creatures in Chicago like the others he followed wondering what she was doing with the girl. He followed eyes trained on the Vampire girl.

He started to fal behind losing her as the city started to wake up yet when he turned a corner he bumped into girl, Trinity, David dropped his staff and his bag, as he picked up the strange staff and fixed his hat. He looked down, seeing the shotgun was easily within the girls he scoped it up. "Sorry that a... A prop for the play I'm doing." He tried to fake it, but the witch hunters hat, the strange staff, a shotgun? He could he look like anything but a demon hunter.

[Assistant]
Dmitri Pavlovich

Dmitri loved the cold, it kept most of the innocents off the streets. He sat on the railing of his third story balcony at the family mansion a little outside of down town Chicago. His uncle had a job for him, not unusual but mildly annoying since he'd had to cancel his own meager plans for the day to accommodate his uncle. Still, it was supposed to be a simple run, which probably meant that Dmitri could count on being jumped by someone or something, probably both. He would be driving a family vehicle down to the piers to pick up a new shipment of guns and ammunition for the family. These would be PP-2000s and AKS-74Us to replace the older mostly american guns currently in use. Some of the gun crates would be packed with loaded guns, having been inspected and assembled by his uncle's men in Canada. This was a safety precaution for the men transporting the weapons, in case a rival decided to try and grab the load for themselves.

Down at the Docks, Dmitri was tense. Things had gone perfectly so far, that was a bad sign, some thing always went wrong, that's just how life was. As the last crates were loaded, he told the boat and crew to get out and fast, before they got caught up in whatever was about to go down. The didn't need to be told twice. He got into his vehicle, and the motorcade moved out. They were stopped at the gates of the yard. A new inspector was there, and he wanted to know what was in the crates. Dmitri told him he didn't want to see what was in the crates if he had family, hoping to scare the man off, but the inspector refused to back down. Dmitri shrugged, got out, and waved him to the back of his vehicle. He opened the back of his SUV, pulled out a crate, checked the cameras, they were all pointed at the gate and couldn't see his vehicle, the last in the motorcade. The inspector saw, and reached for his side arm, as Dmitri opened the case, pulled out a loaded PP-2000 and pulled the trigger once, sending three rounds into the inspector's chest at point blank range. The inspector dropped, his side arm clattering to the ground, it's safety still on. Dmitri looked at the PP-2000 with and admiration of it's punch, despite it's low recoil and it was quieter than the old Tommy-guns his uncle's men had been using... maybe he'd keep one. He repacked the crate, while two other drivers disposed of the new ex-inspector, and then the motorcade left. Thankfully, that was the only incident the motorcade ran into, still it was one more incident than Dmitri had been told to expect. He'd have a word with his uncle about that later.


[System]
586 posts in 821 days
Online
Alias: Justice Yellow

Age: 31

Current Appearance:

Costume: Yellow top with crossed black lightning bolts, a white skirt, yellow stockings, white boots, and a yellow cape with crossed black lightning bolts. She also carries a metal staff that doubles as a lightning rod. "I look like a battery ad, but it could have been worse..."

Powers: As one would expect from her costume, Carrie's powers are all themed around lightning and electricity.

Lightning Leap: More of a utility move than anything else, Carrie turns herself into a bolt of lightning that travels a short distance before she reforms. Basically a short-range teleportation.

Thunder Breath: Just what it sounds like.

Electric Explosion: An area of effect ability, Carrie summons a dome of electricity that slowly grows and damages all in its path.

Electric Pillar: Carrie conjures a ground-to-air lightning strike to hammer a single opponent.

Wrath Of The Storm: A barrage of lightning bolts strike Carrie's staff, charging it up before unleashing an electric wave motion gun effect. Her finisher.

Source: A pair of lightning bolt shaped earrings.

History with Justice Heart: Carrie was one of the original Justice Heart girls- in fact, though she cringes at it, she came up with the name. She was always in the thick of the fight, thinking that the best defense is an overwhelming offense. Naturally, this led to her getting a bit of a reputation as a hothead. Her friends didn't like it at first, and it led to some arguments between over how best to defeat monsters. However, when she charged after Katarina alone one dark night, the Dollmaster beat her badly, and if it wasn't for her friends intervening and driving the villain off, she probably would have died. This led to better relationships with her teammates, as well as a calmer attitude in fights. Still, she had a good heart, and was a valued member of the team.

History After Justice Heart: When Dollmaster was defeated there was no need for Justice Yellow anymore... but that was kept Carrie going through the day. She had major depressive episodes, and while her grades had never been stellar, they only slipped further. Health issues and bad luck only further crushed her once-indomitable spirit, and she now works as a food court grunt, living with her parents because she's unable to make ends meet on her own.

[User]
Isana Seiger
Isana's and Alice's Apartment
7:30PM

---

"Woman," Isana began with a mildly annoyed expression as she pointed her fork at the other woman. "I just took my clothes off and I'm not putting them back on to go help a midget with her alcoholism and deal with a pedo." Isana sighed in response to Alice's insistence. "And love is something I have very little of towards anyone, especially lesbian nymphos who don't know the meaning of the word 'no'." Ugh, this woman was impossible. "...but as long as you don't hurt my budget, do what you want." Agh, today was tiring in general. Whenever the others were brought up it always made her stressed. Angry. Annoyed. Agitated.

Ahh...She wanted to beat someone up.

It seemed though, the world was about to grant her wish.

Before she could question what was happening, it almost felt as though something slammed into her back, trying to crush her against the seat of the sofa.

"Gah!?" Isana yelped in mild surprise, barely having enough time to react, bringing her legs up to the apparent mouth of the couch and her hands to what was once the back of the couch. Was...the couch trying to goddamn eat her?! Fine, this thing wanted to have the stuffing beat out of it, she'd beat the goddamn stuffing out of it. Thankfully, she was fairly confident in her physical ability and flexibility. First things first though...

Isana's body was surrounded in a bright, white light as her usual clothing seemed to change, the fabric elongated and darkening in color as it extended to cover most of the rest of her body. The white light coalesced, finally settling and transforming into her old, magical girl outfit. A black and red uniform, along with a small cloak, boots with her constant companion, Vale appearing at her side as usual.

"HHMPH!" Isana pushed back against the top of the couches mouth, the metal springs hardly even being an issue. She could have probably done this without transforming - this thing was hardly all that strong to begin with. Regardless, she pried open the things mouth, long enough for her to leap out of it and land readily next to Alice, not sparing a glance at her roommate.

"I am goddamn sick and tired of things in this goddamn apartment always trying to eat me..." Isana rather grumpily huffed, drawing Vale from her side and pointing it at the monster. Even after all these years, she still had a penchant for trying to look overly cool. "Well, at least I can kill you." She lunged at the couch monster, slamming the weighty earthy sword horizontally into the top of it.

[Assistant]
Vivian Everett

"That will be $8.79, do you need a bag with that?" 'God let it be over'

Vivian groaned inside of her own head, suffering through the boring existence that was working behind a cash register. Money changed hands and a product was bagged up, and the customer was sent on his way. Much to her relief as she waited for the next person to show up. There was no other pressing business that she had to tend to at the moment, so she could just stand there and wait for her shift to end.

This wasn't exactly the best job one could have, but it met her needs well enough in terms of money and mostly importantly of all it provided her with plenty of free time. This wasn't how her parents had imagined she would end up, and to be honest she hadn't either. Though it was still a major drain on her nerves and personality.

But at last her shift ended, and she was free to head out to her life away from customers and pretentious idiots and all that. "See you later," she called to her replacement as she swept out the door, heading into the evening light. The sweet taste of freedom embraced her, and she wasted no time in heading towards the parking lot to retrieve her motorcycle. There was a spring in her step now that she was off the clock, and Vivian was very much looking forward to enjoying her day.

The vehicle soon came into sight, a burgundy color for a lean machine that she had spent way too much time, effort, and devotion to customizing in any way that she could with her own particular skills. It was her ticket to freedom after all, and she cherished her machine as much as anyone in the same position would. Not that her parents cared about her dedication and ideals but who cared about what they thought. She hadn't talked with them in a long while regardless, and she was just glad that San Francisco was big enough to keep it that way.

She was just stowing away her things for the trip when the phone buzzed to indicate that she had a text. An eyebrow rose as she glanced at it, trying to figure out what was actually written before it clicked. At which point she went back to ignoring it in general. "Nice try, now pull another one," she muttered aloud in disbelief. Twenty years and then this? No fucking way. This was probably some drunk prank or something, that was the only explanation.

At least, up until that telepathic presence made itself known in her head. "Geez, give a girl some warning," she protested as she hopped onto her bike. "They're tough girls, I'm sure they've got it under control." Roaring the engine, she headed off into the city and in the general direction of her predetermined destination. She wasn't in any sort of hurry to leap to their defense, not for something she was confident they could handle in their sleep.

[User]
Alice Augustine

Isana's and Alice's Apartment
7:30PM

---

Alice was surprised when she saw the couch just about eating Isana. "Isana!" She exclaimed. She didn't have time to worry about the toughest of the Justice Hearts though, as a water monster thing appeared from the nearby bathroom. Well, this was fun. Before it could grab her by the leg, she quickly transformed. She could only assume it came out of the toilet... She didn't want such dirty water touching her! She grabbed her Magical Microphone and sang a high note, causing a music note to escape her tool. It floated gently into the middle of this car sized water monster and was ready to explode.

"At least most things don't eat you for food. And can you try not to completely destroy the couch? I really like that one." Alice asked, not really seeing that it was pretty much destroyed anyhow. She kept her attention on the water monster thing now. "Anyhowser... Can you explode now?" Alice asked, snapping her finger and causing the typical sonic bomb of a music note to explode. Hopefully, it would be enough to make the creature reverberate to it's non-existence.

[Assistant]
Courtney Cartwright
Police Bar – Exterior

---

 "Okay!"  Courtney eagerly said with a nod and a bounce in affirmation that they had to be stylish in heroics. Cartwright moved close to Elise and slung her arm around her shoulder. Leaning in Courtney began to speak.  "So like, we gotta remember the most important things about dramatic entrances is that..."

And as if on cue, to prevent this important piece of information from revelation, a power line snapped and landed in front of them! Shortly thereafter the monster was crafted from the wreckage.

"OHMYGOSHSORRYNOTSORRY!" shrieked out Courtney as she valiantly pushed Elise to the side for a bit of help in avoiding the electrical monstrosity! But alas this gesture was probably not the best move for Courtney's self-preservation due to a horrid little, well smaller than that colossus of electricity, creature's set of attacks. Though it was safe to say it was a more heroic endeavor.

While Cartwright was not hit by all of the spikes of the creature, one of those poisonous spikes did hit its mark and landed firmly in the left buttocks. Wincing in pain and landing down upon the sidewalk upon her belly she tried to crawl behind a nearby trashcan in order to take a bit of shelter.

Hopefully she would be able to get a bit reprieve so she could, well for one thing remove that pain in her ass (the literal one) and figure out what sort of poisonous nasty she was inflicted with, and of course access her "magical accessory" so that she could properly transform. Oh and remembering that bit of advice she wanted to tell her friend about dramatic entrances would be a nice little cherry if the other things panned out!


[System]
Quote: I don't want people to get hurt, like I have. If I can shield them from that pain, endure it for them, then that's enough.

Age: 17

Gender: female

Race: Faunus, scorpion sub-species

Appearance: Cyra stands at 4 feet, 9 inches. She typically wears very thick clothing with dark colours, hoodies, sweatpants, boots and fingerless gloves. She also conceals the lower half of her face with a bandanna. Has violet eyes and chin length black hair. Visible skin is a very light brown, with sections of greenish-black carapace spread across her torso and limbs.

Weapon Name: Khthon and Lithos

Weapon Type: Transforming, Defensive, Ranged

Weapon Derivation: Arm shields, wall shields, twin-linked heavy machine guns, rail cannons

Holstered/Sheathed Appearance: rectangular arm shields strapped to her forearms.

Form 1: Guardian Mode. Each shield can extend panels from the side and bottom edges, forming a large wall shield that Cyra can use to protect herself.

Form 2: Assault Mode. A pair of tines extend to cover the machine gun barrels and open the central rail cannon. These weapons require a brief charge period but possess an immense amount of firepower, being able to crack even Boarbatusk or Death Stalker armour at point-blank range. The recoil of these weapons means that only Cyra is able to use them, as anyone else would have their arms ripped off.

Form 3: Suppression Mode. The rail cannon tines merge and retract into the barrel, opening up the machine gun barrels. While nowhere near as powerful as the rail cannon, they have a much greater rate of fire and can be modified with different types of Dust ammunition, such as explosive rounds to disrupt enemy movements, and cryogenic rounds to immobilize and disable them. The recoil of these weapons is not as severe as the rail cannons, but they would still ordinarily be found in vehicle mountings and will break the arm or dislocate the shoulder of anyone other than Cyra, if not both. Even so, extended combat can make her arms feel numb.

Form 4: Fortress. Khthon and Lithos can be combined to form a large curved barrier, completely protecting Cyra and anyone behind her from any frontal attack.

Personality: Cyra is as quiet and shy as anyone can get. She buries her body in thick clothing, desperate to hide her Faunus status and going to great lengths to ensure no one else discovers this fact; dressing and undressing while still in bed, bathing only when she is absolutely certain she is alone, avoiding all physical contact. Often the only parts of her body that are actually visible are the upper half of her face and her fingertips. Because of her small stature, reluctance to speak and preference for dark colours, she easily fades into the background and passes unnoticed, until someone decides to pick on her, against which she virtually never defends herself.

In spite of this, Cyra is quite intelligent and studious, having designed and built the complicated mechanisms of Khthon and Lithos herself. She is also very observant and rarely misses things, even if she seldom informs anyone else for fear of bringing attention to herself, which causes her to appear somewhat stupid. When she is with someone she truly trusts, she can seem over-affectionate, craving the physical contact she otherwise deprives herself of. She also loves sour candies, the stronger the better, making her rather easy to bribe.

History: Cyra grew up alone with her mother, her father dying in a Grimm attack before she was born and having no other family to speak of. She also rarely saw her mother, who tended to work long hours at difficult jobs just to be able to support her. School was essentially hell for Cyra; as a young scorpion Faunus she often faced intense bullying, particularly due to the carapace sections on her skin being difficult to hide. Her attempts to do so only changed the reasons for her being bullied.

Her path to becoming a Huntress was one of necessity. While at a playground, Cyra was being repeatedly pushed around by a group of kids, when she finally lost her temper and activated her Semblance. The resulting shockwave not only knocked the other kids off their feet, but also caused serious damage to the playground. Cyra's mother made her swear to only use her power to protect others, encouraging her to be better than those who discriminated against her. After that, her path was set.

Emblem: A stylized V with curved tips (resembling herself holding her shields in front of her in Guardian form when viewed from above), surrounded by two concentric spiked circles.

Colour: Mardi Gras

Combat Style: Cyra is a very patient and defensive person, letting her enemies come to her. She will endure enemy attacks with her shields and Semblance, waiting for the best opening, and then overwhelming them with an immense of firepower. Otherwise, she will engage her opponents at range with her machine guns, maintaining control over the battlefield.

Strengths: Fighting against Cyra is similar to fighting against a small mountain, making her very difficult to overcome. She has unmatched stamina in a fight, her shields and Semblance enabling her to endure almost any attack that comes her way, allowing opponents to exhaust themselves. The immense firepower at her disposal, relative to her small size, can take many people by surprise, and she is quick to exploit any openings or advantages that enemies present to her to their full extent.

Weaknesses: Cyra has difficulty engaging fast opponents who are able to evade her attacks and find openings in her defense. Additionally, her ability to endure attacks is largely dependent upon her maintaining contact with the ground, so upwards attacks that send her into the air make her vulnerable. While largely unafraid of fighting Grimm, she is much more hesitant and timid when fighting human or Faunus opponents, resulting her tending to hide behind her shields than attack.

Semblance: able to "lock-down" her body, becoming immovable from where she stands and transmitting energy either into the ground or absorbing it into herself. This is the primary reason that she is able to wield such heavy caliber weapons, as her Semblance allows her to absorb the recoil. If sufficiently motivated, Cyra can also focus the absorbed energy and her own rage into powerful seismic shockwaves, transforming her into the epicenter of an earthquake.

[User]
Nova Hail- Lecture Hall- Monday Evening

Nova was a bit startled by just how sharp her reaction was against returning to the ballroom was. She could understand not liking crowds since she wasn't all that fond of them herself but she could put up with it when need be where this girl in front of her seemed almost panicked at the very idea. This had something more than just being shy but she had no way to prove that or even what had happened to the girl to be like this. Did the girl really think that she would force her? Sure, going back to the ballroom was the logical idea but that didn't always mean it was the right one.

"I'm not the kind of person to force someone to do anything they don't want to do." Nova replied to the other softly before standing, petting the girls head gently. "If you are really set on staying than I guess I'll just have to join you. I know you might not appreciate my company but if you get caught than at least you won't have to take the heat alone. I can possible help lessen the punishment or detour it a bit and besides, with the way the party is going I'll get a better nights rest away anyway. I'll be back..."

After she spoke those words, she headed for the door and paused for a moment before stepping into the hall to glance back at the girl."My name is Nova by the way. Just though you might like to know. I'll return shortly."  Nova quickly exited out of the room, heading back into the ballroom with not much notice of others and silently started packing up her stuff. Once she was finished, Nova quietly slipped back out of the ballroom and joined the girl back in the lecture hall, setting up her sleeping bag once more.

[Assistant]
Liam Yugure - Beacon ballroom - Monday night
Slamm @rex @ryukan

After downing a few more shots Liam rememberex that he was still at school and tomorrow probably needed a much needed rest. After hr downed his next shot he slammed the glass down.

"Thankyou for the drinks good friend. But im gonna hit the hay and get some rest for tomorrow." he waved goodbye and walked to the bathroom to change into his tracksuit pants. He stared at the scars across his chest and sighed. He walked out, shirtless, and couldn't help but notice a small group of girls stare. He flexed a little and gave a slight chuckle.
This training definitely paid off...
He set up his sleeping arrangements in an darker area where there weren't many people and lied down staring at the ceiling wondering what was to come.