[System]
Belladonna

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Character Summary
Aliases: Bella, Donna, BB
Age: 22
Birthday: December 20, 1995
Birth Place: Unknown
Gender: Female
Powers/Special Skill Set: Weapon Infusion (With Elements), Combat Prowess, and Espionage
Editorial Nickname: The Badass
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
How long have they been with X-Factor?: Two Years

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Appearance
Height: 5'9''
Weight: 120 lbs
Build: Slender Athletic
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Platinum Blonde
Skin Tone: Ivory
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scar along right hip, scar along upper back, tattoo of the Yin and Yang symbol behind right ear, ear piercings on both ears
Personal Style: Bella dresses as the situation demands it, but she does get some enjoyment out of wearing things considered girly and cutesy as she fights because it gives her an advantage. She does not wear anything particular when not in a mission, preferring comfort when not in the field. She has been seen in sweatpants and a t-shirt or a stylized dress on any given day.

Her color scheme ranges based on the day also, though she usually opts for darker colors. Her hair is usually tied in twin tails or let down to her lower back. She wears make-up as she sees fit, mainly on a mission when she needs to look a certain way. She will look presentable when it benefits her or whatever task she is on.

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Psychology
Disciplined * Crafty * Impressive * Secretive * Stoic * Restrained

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Bella doesn't show emotion. Or it could be said she shows emotion rarely. Trained to believe emotions are a weakness, she gets the job done, no matter how dirty the deed. She is disciplined and direct, though she does have a sarcastic side to her she lets out, particularly when she is annoyed.

She stands out amongst others for her dedication to the work she is in. She knows she is impressive and valuable to any who have her on their side, but she does not care one way or the other about whatever side she is on. She does the work and she gets paid. Even in the midst of torture, she can endure without shedding a tear or uttering a scream. To some, that is a valuable skill in a spy. To others, it's concerning that there may be darker things underneath that pretty exterior. She will never tell.
Habits:* Sarcasm
* Listens to music when training

Hobbies:* Watching Trashy TV
* Sparring

Fears:
* Being Buried Alive
* Cannibals
* The Bottom of the Ocean

Likes:
* Techno Music
* Dueling
* Exploring
* Detective Novels
* Proving People Wrong
* Podcasts

Dislikes:
* Assholes
* Cat Calling
* Being Spied On
* Birds
* Lines
* Fake People

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Cards On The Table
General World Skills:
* Tracking
* Espionage
* Parkour
* Lockpicking
* Poison Knowledge
* Cryptology

Combat Skills:
* Elemental Imbuement: Bella has the ability to imbue her weapons with elemental enhancements. This can be any weapon she obtains (but most notably her sword and gun)
* Sword Combat
* Firearm Combat
* Hand-to-Hand Combat
* Morning Star Combat

Medical Issues/Injuries
* None

Possessions:
* Clothing - Black Top, Checkered Mini Skirt, Black Boots
* Katana
* Handgun
* Morning Star
* Two Clips Extra Ammo
* Lockpick
* Poison Vial
* Extra Hair Ties (around wrist)
* Cell Phone

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History
Why did you join X-Factor?: It wasn't so much that Bella joined X-Factor, it was more that she was obtained. Having fought for her own freedom, she opted to use her skills and training to aid the highest bidder, which had its own danger. X-Factor allowed her to continue to fight, earn her keep, and be protected in a way. The only thing they do not have is her loyalty as she is only loyal to herself, but she will keep the team safe.

General History: Bella didn't know the joys of childhood. She never knew who her real father and mother were. All she knew was a man named Master Shien and he was cruel and demanding. With iron fist, she along with a select few other children were hardened, trained to fight, sneak, and kill. She didn't learn about the world like other children, she only saw it through blood.

However, the children still hoped for escape. The master could never break their resolve, even if he broke their bones. So they hatched a plan to escape and leave and go out into the world. It all came crashing down as Master Shien killed and slaughtered them one by one, leaving Bella along with two others. Bella took her sword in hand and challenged the master. They fought hard, each dealing blows to the other, but Bella came out on top, decapitating her "father" and leaving.

Since then, Bella had to gradually learn how the world worked. She was smart and capable though (plus the internet) and she knew her place. She began to sell her skills as a professional hitman or spy for various factions around the U.S. She was sought after due to her unflinching nature and her results.

Bella no longer cared though. She was in it for herself and knew no one else could be trusted unless they earned it. That was when X-Factor came into the scene. Hearing about her skills they offered her a position amongst the team. Bella agreed for a limited time, mainly to see how it would play out for her. Once she was satisfied, she joined up. Could she be trusted though was the question.

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Extras
Character Quote: "If looks could kill I'd be a mass murderer. Oh wait...."
Theme Song:
Anything Else: Invisible Woman, Link

*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.

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Relations

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Belladonna
"I don't do friends. And yes, that's what she said."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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🌓 Andrew Rossi 🌓
"Smart man can grow big or small. He doesn't bother me too much."

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🎆 Demetria Clarke 🎆
"She can freeze shit, which is pretty awesome. Other than that, she's cool."

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🙇 John Watts 🙇
"He looks at me like a daughter. I...do not know what to think about this."

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🎆 Evelyn Holder 🎆
"Assassins don't have a code, but I can respect her game provided she doesn't step on my toes."

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🎆 Alannah Ó Ceallaigh 🎆
"A warrior of the past meets a warrior of the future. This will be fun."

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♨ Barbara "Bobbi" Leigh-Anne Hobbes ♨
"She's loud and grating. Could she shut up for two minutes?"

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👋 Wasley Martin 👋
"He's um...he's cool, I guess. Stop asking me!"

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[User]
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Location: Last known location of rogue team.
Skills: N/A

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As their steps lead them into the jet Jo found a seat at the far back near the cockpit. After fastening the buckles across her figure she crossed her left leg over her right and let herself relax in her seat. While Jolene appeared rather relax a nervousness twisted her stomach uncomfortably. In an attempt to calm her nerves Jo pulled her small notebook and pen from her snug pocket and quickly skipped through the pages until she found the page that held the notes on Solaris Mico.

Clicking her pen open Jo struck a clean line across the page below her Solaris Mico test results #7. With casual strokes of the pen Jolene began to write down additional notes in elegant lettering.

Notes~
Potentially adjusting my handcage position may help stabilize the condensed light.
Additionally, allowing myself more time to spend focusing on the condensing of the light magic could help stabilize it.
Maybe if I spend more time crafting the orb it could increase its overall stability.
Though it's already a time intensive spell if I can get it to at least work in practice I could get a better understanding of the magic.
Which in turn, through practice, I can reduce the time to enact the spell.
I could also spend time researching the inner workings that go into condensing magic?
Not really sure if my books have information on this; would need to spend time looking through the books I already have to see if any speak on the subject.

Jo took notice as the jet seemed to descend towards a landing. Her eyes quickly scanned over her notes to see if anything should be added but came to no finite decision. Clicking her pen closed and closing the book she stuffed it back into her pocket. As the jet touched down Jo unbuckled herself and followed the group out.

Jo's dark honey brown eyes found themselves looking at what seemed to be the only guy in this small group as he spoke up. In truth, Jolene hadn't spent the time to look over the files on the other heroes within the organization. She had the assumption she would get to know them over time and through face to face interactions. Though given current events she should have probably spent time looking at the files. Before she could speak up on the fact she was in the same boat one of the girls spoke up. She listened intently to the explanation of the group of individuals that were currently their 'targets'.

As the rundown came to an end Jolene slightly hurried her steps up to the side of the guy who admitted that he didn't look over the files. Jolene gently poked a finger to his arm to get his attention.

"Don't feel bad. I forgot to look over the files as well." Jo spoke in a soft, reassuring tone; giving a gentle smile that matched her gentle voice. "My name is Jolene, by the way. But I go by Jo." She introduced herself sweetly, offering out a hand as they walked.

[Assistant]
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Elara Wessex

Location: Last Known Location of Rogue Team
Skills: N/A

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The ride to the rogue team was blissfully short. Elara was feeling much better about this mission now that they had arrived at their destination. She disembarked the plane, getting a good look at the building in front of them. It looked eerie. Like something out of a movie. What brought the team here?

"So, I forgot to ask. Who exactly are we looking for? I'm super new and don't know anyone yet."

Elara looked over at the source of the voice; the other person who had worn a mask out in the field. She glanced towards Psylocke in hopes of an answer, but another voice drew her attention. It was from the expressionless woman in the conference room.

"Current members unaccounted for who took the jet are, Demetria Clarke also known as Sapphire, John Watts who goes by Mercury, Belladonna, and Evelyn Holder also known as Nightingale."

Elara nodded in response, looking back at the building. There were a few entrances, but it would be hard to tell where the team went inside of such a large building. That didn't even account for what they might encounter from the staff of this building, too.

She thought about the team members listed. They were mostly comprised of senior members of Serval Industries. They had to have a good reason to go rogue. It couldn't be blamed solely on their grief for Harrison Snow's death. Did they resent the new CEO, Rae Gardner? Is that why they didn't consult her before taking off?

The girl with the journal began speaking to the masked man, but Elara didn't think it was the time to make friends. This was a serious mission, no matter what the premise was. They had no idea what they were walking into. Just like any other mission, really, but this was against some of their own people. She hoped it would go well.

"Should we head in as a team, or split up?" She said aloud, mostly aiming it towards Psylocke. "The team could be anywhere inside of this building."


[System]
Appearance:

Age: 24
Personality: A cheerful and kind man, a rarity in the wasteland. He keeps this face on for his own sanity and his soldiers. Andrew puts his morals above anything else and would not betray them for anything.

Faction: Outer Banks Republic

Equipment: Standard OBR equipment including brass knuckles, 20 rounds for his 10mm pistol, 50 rounds for his .22 rimfire hunting rifle, and was able to get two hand grenades.

Skills: An excellent marksmens he has showed his worth in long-ranged battles against raiders. Andrew also has a wide knowledge of the creatures and plants of the wasteland able to pick put which ones are dangerous and ones that aren't.

History: Andrew Jacks comes from a long line of politicians in the Outer Banks Republic including his father who is a high end politician and the mayor of Elizabeth Town. Due to this Andrew grew up a spoiled life, as far as living in the wasteland goes. While he was growing up the Claw Raider-ORB war was going on near Elizabeth Town and the mayors house was used as a hospital for injured soldiers. Andrew saw many dead and injured men in his house while simply getting from room to room. This inspired him to join later in live wanting to give back to the country he lived in and after much disapproval from his parents joined the Army.

He passed the tests with flying colors and was deployed as a Riflemen with the 3rd Outer Territory Company. This is where he has had a few combat missions fighting Covenant Raiders and other considered pests. His biggest challenge is coming with The Covenant closing in on a trading settlement to the south with heavy causalities from the OBR his company is to be sent in and push back the Raiders towards the sea. Andrew is anxious but ready for mission whenever it begins.

[User]
Brick "Forge" Burnside

All was quiet at the trading post of Davenport. The merchants came out from their camps and set up their displays as per the usual morning routine. The makeshift marketplace had sprung up suddenly in recent weeks, all hands hoping to see a share of the caps coming in to the main attraction. It seemed like some were in it for the long run, builders had been commissioned from the nearby town of Creswell to construct a couple of shacks. Apart from the worn but homely old-world house that stood dead center of the quickly expanding shantytown, the only other free-standing structure was an old barn that had recently been converted into a hotel of sorts, a place for travelers to hang their hats while the maestro did his work. For indeed in that old house, miracles were being performed, miracles that brought people from all around. Miracles that had drawn young George Cantwell. He was soon to be recruited into the ranks of the OBR Riflemen and wanted to carry forward his family's legacy, so a week ago, he had set out from Elizabeth City with a caravan headed for this very trading post. Cautiously he made his way up through the row of merchant stands, and navigated around Brahmin, saddled down with goods, until he stood in front of the old house. His eyes were drawn to the sign hanging above the doorway.

FORGE

Elated that his journey was over, George walked up the steps and knocked twice on the wooden frame.
"Just a minute!" He heard a voice call, seconds before the door edged open. A young looking man dressed in leather garb and a green military-style jacket peered back at him.
"Yes sir? How can I help?"
"Are you Forge?" George asked.
"Me? No, no, I work for him. My name is Brick. Were you looking to avail of his services?"
"Uhh, I guess so, yes"
"Well come on in then, take a seat at the table here" Brick stepped out of the way to allow the young soldier-to-be entry. George did as Brick said and took a seat.
"Up on the wall next to you is the list of services, we'd be here all day if we were to explain them all, and Forge is a busy man, so why don't you explain to me what you need and I'll suggest the best course of action?"
George reached to his side and tugged at his holster "This is my father's pistol. Or, I guess, it was. And his father's before that. Kind of a family heirloom. Anyway, it hasn't really been firing right, and I really wanted it at my side when I enlisted"
"Well, let me see it" Brick reached out and took the pistol from the table. he sized it up from all angles and gave it a couple of shakes "Well right away I can tell ya, your sights are off-center. I could fix those right here, but that's not it. If I was a betting man, I'd say its the barrel, could be cracked, I mean, this has been in your family for generations, no offence to you and yours, but I doubt its ever been properly serviced. Now, what we can do for you is the standard full bodywork job. Strip it down, see what's what, replace some parts, clean it all up then pop it back together, that'll be about 75 caps, that's the flat fee on servicing jobs anyway. However if you wanted to bring this weapon up to 110%, I'd suggest the premium service. I have no idea if that's even in your price range, but I will tell you, it'll be at least 200. We do the same work, but on a premium job, we use nothing but the absolute best parts. Sometimes they're even custom made for the job, like cutting a new barrel from old-world metal and the like. And we throw in a handful of bullets as a bonus. It's an expensive service, but if you chose to go for it, I guarantee you that weapon will last until your children's children walk this earth, if not longer"
"Wow. That sounds great, I definitely wanna do right by my father, so yeah, give me the premium service. 200 caps you said?"
Brick held up a hand "payment on completion of services. That's a hard-line rule here. One last question- does she have a name?"
"A name? Uh, no I don't think. I guess I never really thought about it before"
"All great weapons are named. Forge really likes that, and you seem like a decent sort. Respectful. So I'm gonna throw in a tag job on the house. Now lastly, it's gonna take a while, I'd say midday tomorrow, so what you can do...." Brick trailed off to reach off to a side table just out of George's view ".... is take this coupon over to Angie, she runs the inn over in the other building. That says you're one of Forge's customers, she gives you a bed for the night and some food in the morning for free."
George was overwhelmed as he stood up "Wow, this is great, thank you sir"
"Hey, don't mention it bud. We'll see you back here tomorrow"
"Oh, and can you tell him not to do anything about the scratches on it? Dad liked to make a mark on it whenever he killed something"
"Yeah, no problem kiddo, see you later"

George had just left when another man pushed his way in through the door. At first glance it'd be easy to call him a raider, and maybe he was, but right now, he was a paying customer known as Hardy.
"Mr. Hardy, welcome back" Brick said "You here to pick up the Tenderizer?"
"What? I come for my bat" The loud and ignorant man exclaimed.
Brick reached below the counter and placed a metal baseball bat out in plain view "You paid for a tag job, and with all the work done on this beauty, Forge decided to name it the Tenderizer. Shall we recap?"
"I just want the stupid thing, got places to be kid, how much?"
"175 caps"
"Are you friggin' for real? He didn't even really do nothing, not that I can see. Where is this Forge hack? I wanna see this guy"
The change in tone was immediate. Brick reached out and took a hold of the bat "I really think you want me to recap the work. You said, and I quote "I want this thing to be so strong that I could swing it at a rock 1000 times and it wouldn't dent" Now, if I can draw your attention to the tip here, that ring? That's from cutting it open to place a 'core' inside, a kind of infrastructure to keep the exterior shape, it also adds a bit of heft, for a little extra damage on impact. I constructed that 'core' used energy cells to cut open the bat, and then welded it back up. Then I was inspired and so I welded on this ring of crimped metalwork along the top edge, that's where the name came from. This thing can really cause damage" Brick walked out to face Hardy, gently patting the bat against his empty hand.
"Wait... you? You're Forge?"
"Correct. So before you insult me further, I have to ask. Do you want a demonstration. Maybe I can convince you its worth the 175"
"Just... hang on man" Hardy began fumbling around in his pockets. Brick didn't wait. He gripped the Tenderizer in both hands and made a huge swing, the "crown" of the bat connecting square with Hardy's jaw. The much bigger man fell over, blood streaming from his mouth, nose, and ears. He tried to speak, breathe even, and found only pain when he tried to use his dislodged jaw. Finally he managed to squeak out a "wait" between his moans of pain.
"You don't deserve this weapon" Brick spat out with pure venom "How could you? You don't respect it, care for this beautiful object. THe only way, you could ever.... EVER honor it.... is to be its first victim"
"no. please" the words were more groans than anything else.
Brick brought the bat down once more, smashing the last ounce of life from Hardy. He stood upright, drew out a scrap of cloth, then wiped off the blood from the weapon.
"Had a feeling you weren't the one meant for the Tenderizer" he told the bashed corpse matter of factly. Oh well.

Brick went to the door, and poked his head outside, he scanned to porch until he set eyes on the armed guard standing nearby.
"Hey Joe, you're workin' today? Need you to drag Mr. Hardy out of here when you get a chance. Might be some blood to clear up too, but there's Abraxo in the closet. I gotta get to work"
"No problem boss man" The guard responded.
Brick retreated inside and headed off for the workshop he had set up in the back room, George Cantwell's pistol in hand.
"I know just what I'll name you....." he said as he slapped on some gloves and got to work.

[Assistant]
The Highwayman

A road of cracked asphalt and fire blasted earth stretched out before the Highwayman, crunching beneath each steel-clad footfall. Concrete and soil had become one beneath the nuclear devastation of Chinese Warheads, and the land had been left a sickly mess of cracked grey and greenish brown.

It was on the right path.

The armor-clad juggernaut strided onwards, its joints whirring and hissing, Scooped Machine-Gun clutched in its metallic hands.

It wasn't long before the first few raiders came slipping out of the marshland.

The Highwayman's power armor was far more sleek than the bulky get-up worn by wastelanders, so the Guardsmen didn't think twice about rushing the featureless wanderer.

"You're trespassing upon the kingdom of the Watch." A grizzly figure in an old-world military uniform sneered, as him and his buddies came wandering up to the Highwayman "Hand over your valuables, and the just and noble Guardsmen will allow you to walk away unscathed, outlander."

"The ORB are paying good caps for dead Guardsmen." a steely voice rasped from beneath the Highwayman's cold metal helmet "How about you hand over all your valuables, or I bring them back some souvenirs?"

The grizzled one shot his comrades a look of confusion.

"Let's waste this asshole!"

Their rifles barked, letting out a crackle of bullets, which pinged harmlessly off of the Highwayman's hard metal body.

The Highwayman squeezed the trigger if its machine gun, sweeping through the Guardsmen with a feral bellow of roaring gunfire. A few strained coughs, and bubbles of dark red blood, and then the road was littered with the bullet-ridden corpses of four Guardsmen.

"No second chances."

The steely figure pressed on up the road, its destination within its grasp.


[System]
Species: Slime Mother
Amidst an old prison block painted pink and oily black from filth along its edges, a 5'10 female figure sits on a small chest in the back of the room. As the light touches its flesh, the realization of its translucence becomes as clear as the membrane that covers its jaw shifts. The glint of a small ruby and a sapphire loom in the sockets of the skull. They soundlessly float before snapping to attention.

Role: 'Watchman, Scavenger'
Skills: Nori naturally functions on a form of protosynthesis which consists of building onto their mass with the assimilated mass of what it consumes*.
Boneless dexterity- Beyond the limitations of consumed materials, Nori's and her brood's mass can fit through most cracks and crevices. This also allows them to form multiple appendages of various shapes and sizes
Eyes of slime- In a room of minions, how noteworthy would a single pink slime be? Translucent and toting a single human skull floating in its mass, Nori holds an empathetic link over the slow-moving entities. Their defense is mainly sharpening appendages to slash at things that may get too close, but they serve to relay the presence of anomalous activity back to the mother. Details are hazy, mostly detailing strenuous activity.
Greater Brood- Numerous slimes under Nori's control can condense into a greater foe, their power increasing if any adventurers had died in the room, as weapons and other chunks of metal are usually swept into its mass. This is usually in response to increased activity, an automatic defense mechanism wherever a good quantity of her slimes inhabit (usually around treasure caches due to the skeletons yet to be picked clean and broken down before returning to feed Nori). The greater brood will break down most metals deemed to be useless and separate after combat, individually bringing nutrients back to Nori.
Crystalline Shell- When faced with threats, the material Nori is made of, as well as controlled slimes, can condense and harden. The hardened consistency makes it difficult to damage the slimes' nucleus, although limits its damage because of its size and lack of flexibility. Nori, herself, can draw in residual slime to harden herself for combat, although this is a gradual process. However, while hardening, Nori's defense rises as they heal with every passing moment from reconstituting material. Fire can bypass this defense and any wise attack on this miniboss should be done as quickly as possible. Depending on how long the fight takes, dispersing 'feeler' slimes might take a few minutes to an hour.
= The shell can be used in conjunction with basic melee attacks, quickly turning a brawl into a knife-fight. Also, this armor has its own health which temporarily builds onto Nori's.

Personality: Bubbly and playful, often coming off naive. They aspire to build up their own treasure pile, though have found content in protecting others'. Nori is actually quite violent under the surface, disassociated with pain and how organics feel it. Not many adventurers make it to her lair, most of them were forced to regret the decision; The Slime Queen isn't one to toy with trespassers only until after victory is assured.

Background: Fed on the bones of a powerful sorceress, the blood and filth of the room gave way to magic sentience which forced impurities out in order to become its own form. Other than that, existence and co-existence is a daily exercise. Memories of the old sorceress still linger, although they are strained, at best, and often come as dreams.
Other: (To maybe be added)

[User]
Throughout the entire labyrinth, a ringing of bells was heard. The labyrinth's occupants had long ago discovered that the watchtower bell of the buried city that served as Lessavo's tomb still functioned, and it had been agreed that in times of great emergency the bell could be rung, summoning all creatures who were able to this vast city, indeed the only place capable of holding them all, for a council, by which decisions could be made to determine the fate of their home.
 As the monsters of the Tomb gathered, they were barely surprised to see that the one atop the watchtower, frantically ringing the bell, was Henry, a necromantically reanimated skeleton. There were many such skeletons living in this place, but Henry stood out from them all both in appearance, his helmet and armor dented beyond repair, and in reputation. Henry was known throughout the Tomb for his constant failures, accidentally breaking traps, disrupting spells, ruining supplies, and causing all other manner of screw-ups. Indeed, many of the Tomb's inhabitants growled and mumbled threats as Henry began to speak, his voice echoing off of this place's earthen walls for all to hear.
 "Uh, hello everybody. It's me again, Henry, though you probably already know who I am. Well, umm, earlier this morning my head got knocked off and somebody, I don't know who, kicked it so hard that it rolled out of the tomb. And, uh, when I went to retrieve it, I may have left the tomb's entrance open. An adventurer saw me, and followed me back to the entrance. I tried to attack him, I really tried, but I slipped and fell into the swamp, and, uh, he, umm, sorta got away... so yeah, the humans know about this place now, probably."
 The crowd roared, threatening to turn into a mob, wanting to tear apart Henry's bones. Their home would surely be ruined! That adventurer was probably on his way back here with a whole party of adventurers now, coming to destroy their home. Even those who were not chasing Henry through the streets were loudly arguing about what should be done about this, creating a deafening and chaotic cacophony.

[Assistant]
"We must obscure the entrance! Perhaps the humans will believe their ally to be insane." even as Ubel suggested it the idea was shaky. If the group he brought had a competent enough caster they would see right through it. But it was better to make bad suggestions than say nothing... Though the ones hunting down Henry weren't coming up with anything.
"Or... maybe we uh... maybe we can have the scavengers burn down some nearby town? Draw the adventurers towards that? Surely Parsel can find a nice, little defenseless one? Maybe full of human children or elderly? That might draw them away..." this was even less plausible than his first suggestion... it may just draw more humans... but again Ubel believed talking to much was far better than talking to little. "Or... uh... maybe we can..."


[System]
Appearance: Like all Astartes, Nergüi is of superhuman proportions, his height, weight and muscle-mass far outdoing that of even the largest Guardsman as he towers above them being nearly eight feet tall in height due to his power armour. His face, the only part of his body commonly seen, is hard and expressionless with the outward appearance of an elderly man with his long grey hair cut and tied into a nomadic top-knot, his facial hair the thin moustache and wispy goatee commonly seen among the White Scars set against tanned flesh, bearing ritually made scars below his eyes and across his cheeks . The almond-shaped eyes of a deep hazel colour, stuck in dark eye-sockets are what makes people realise how much he has seen and how much he knows, holding both wisdom and a look of violence within them.

Age: 275

Sex: M

Class: Deathwatch (White Scars) Apothecary (Emchi)

Equipment:

* A suit of archaic and battered but slightly modified Mark VI "Corvus" armour, painted in the traditional black colours of the Deathwatch, taken from a predecessor of the pre-heresy White Scars and gifted to the current Chapter. The suit has been modified to include the mandatory silver shoulder pad of the Watch, Helix shapes against a white background adorn the armour at several points as do eagles, the right shoulder-guard retaining the yellow lightning bolt-on-red and stark white of his Chapter.
* Diagnostor Helmet - The helmet is shaped in the conventional form of a beaked Mark VI helm, yet contains upgraded Auto-senses and readouts to assist with their charge of treating the injured and maintaining their Battle-Brothers' ( and any others) physical combat readiness.
* Narthecium - The tool of an Apothecary's trade, a Narthecium contains implements specially designed for Space Marine physiology and for performing first aid without having to remove the patient's Power Armour. It also comprises various counterseptics, skin patches, transfusions and other compounds engineered for the Space Marines' physiology, and several stasis tubes for storing recovered gene-seed.
* Reductor - Retrieval and storage of a fallen Battle-Brother's gene-seed is so critical that Apothecaries carry a special tool for this operation. While a Reductor is not required for Progenoid removal, it significantly reduces the time. This surgical implement fastens under the wrist. It includes a monomolecular saw for penetrating Power Armour and Ossmodula-enhanced rib cages, and a diamantine-tipped extractor drill.
* Mk III Pattern bolt pistol
* Power-sabre – A power weapon utilising a curved blade, shaped after the traditional sabres wielded by the steppe nomads of Chogoris. It is rarely used, as he is an Apothecary after all, but when it is it is put to death-dealing with a deadly effect.
* One Frag and one Krak grenade

Notable Deeds:

* The Diata Purge: Under the direction of Kyublai Khan, Nergüi joined the campaign with the rest of his Chapter against various Chaos Renegades; he saved many of his Brothers during the bloodshed, as well as some from the allied Marauders Chapter. Great deeds were done during this hunt, though not glorious ones by this Apothecary.
* Battle for Grase Mesa: Nergüi was part of the Land Speeder mounted cadre that took the fight to the Eldar of Yme-Loc, joining his brethren in their flanking attacks on the lithe xenos, personally accounting for over a dozen Eldar scalps and heads.
* Third War for Armageddon: Everyone knows about this war, and there are so many tales of daring do that it would be impossible to tell them all here. Needless to say, Apothecary Nergüi of the Firefist Brotherhood (2nd Company) impressed someone with extreme authority, an Inquisitor no less, and it was requested that he be seconded to the Deathwatch of the Ordo Xenos – an honour he could not refuse.
* Classified: Ever since 'taking the black', his pure white going to the deep dark of his adopted 'Chapter', the tasks and deeds that this Apothecary has performed, the biological agents he has worked with, and the operations he has conducted are classified – only those with the highest authority able to know even a fraction of what he has been through.

[User]
A lone guardsman wades his way through a field of dead bodies, ork or human, there was no difference. A lasgun in hand, he keeps his guard up and mind steady, it's inevitable that at any moment he would be killed. Below his feet are many layers of dead men, all from different stretches of the empire, all brave and loyal men of the imperium. Ahead is another silhouette of a guardsman, maybe, it was too hard to make out with his wounds, he came into view slowly, dropping to his knees, the lone surviving guardsman wasn't alone, he sprinted towards the kneeling figure, and held him in his arms.
"What happened...?" The once kneeling guardsman asked, the survivor grit his teeth and forced himself not to cry.

/////

A day earlier

The guardsman stood ready and waiting for his coming death, his brothers in arms stood beside him waiting for the same.
"It's almost like they aren't coming." One of them said.
"Why take millions of us off world to fight an enemy we have yet to see." Another said, the guardsman looked to them with a fire in his eyes.
"What are you saying?" He asked, not expecting an answer he continued, "The Emperor has every right to do with us what he pleases.", a weary eyed sergeant cut into the conversation, pulling the two heretics by the collar.
"QUIET DOWN! If the Commisar heard you two then you would consider yourselves lucky, you'll be dead before the orks arrive.", a quick and sharp order from the sergeant piped them down before they could say any more, they didn't need to, the whaaag of the orks can already be heard, the beat of their boots against the dirt.
"FORM A FIRING LINE! OPEN FIRE ON MY COMMAND!" The commisar shouted, a number of men fell backwards in fear and a number more decided a clean shot from the commissars' laspistol would be better than being ripped apart by the green tide. Five clean shots and they were dead, it was enough to bring the others back to their feet and ready to die in the name of the Imperium. The green skins came into view, their axes raised and their autoguns cocked, the guardsman was afraid, and even more afraid of the commisar, he will die here.
"OPEN FIRE!", a flurry of lights and the front row of orks hit the dirt with burning holes in their chests, another volley and the next row fell, again and again and eventually they came close enough to be hit by turret fire, the sound of the large bolter rounds being fired left the guards ears bleeding.
"FIX BAYONETS!", the guard was given only a moment of time to force the long blade into the lasgun, many had trouble but the guardsman fixed it quick and clean before a group of Gretchen made their way into the trench, two managed to steal away his lasgun and shoot another before he wrestled them to the ground and snapped their necks, stealing back his lasgun.
"CHARGE!" The commisar snapped, the remaining Gretchen were killed and the many guardsman still remaining rose to find that the ork horde had made its way to only a meter in front of them, the few brave men who charged were mowed down first, their armour easily ripped through by the strength of the grown ork, the guardsman charged too but was hit back by the butt of an ork autogun, knocked unconscious.

/////

Present

The wounded guardsman cried and spit blood, he grabbed the lone survivors' armour to hold himself up.
"Don't let me die, please... please...", the lone survivor held his hand firmly.
"My name is Estrus, only in death does duty end." He said triumphantly, a moment passed and he lay the man down, he served the Imperium with honour, it was only fitting Estrus did the same. He rose after some time and continued down his set path, Estrus knew where the Orks were, and he knew who needed this information, the inquisition wouldn't let an imperial Titan go to waste on an ork infested planet. It's probably where they were or where they are heading, both parties, both sides, inquisition and Ork.

[Assistant]
Aviza stopped midstep, swiftly turning to face the Astartes while the space marine continued to speak. She let him finish his ranting before replying to him in a lower, more aggressive and threatening tone than any of them had heard her speak before. "For someone of your caliber, I would expect you to do exactly that. Since you felt it necessary to question my orders and motives in front of the squad, and even going as far as to threatening our sanctioned Psyker, and possibly even myself, I will remind you of something very important. Inquisitor Solares put you under my command, you will do as I say without question, you will not comment negatively upon anyone in the squad as to hurt moral, you will do as you are told swiftly and to the letter without question, or you can return to the Imperial Guardsmen facility from which we came and wait while I explain to Inquisitor Solares that a member of the Deathwatch that is under my command went against my orders, threatened members of the squad, which include myself and that he is not fit for duty. You would be wise to keep in mind that if you were anything below a Space Marine, what you have done would be grounds for summary execution. Am I clear enough for you to understand or should I have Inquisitor Solares tell you in person what you have done wrong once she arrives?"

The storm above them was growing in strength, the rain now came down harder and hail pelted their armor while winds blew against them violently. The small motion tracker upon the HUD that was built into Aviza's visor started to flash, showing figures heading their way, and quite a few of them at that. "We have incoming, if this Astartes want's to the fight the Ork's then we shall let him do just that. Fall back into the armored bunker and set up a line of fire, you are free to engage when you see fit." Aviza motioned for the squad to follow her into the heavily reinforced bunker near them and quickly stepped inside. The interior had a set of heavy weapons upon a weapon rack that was attached to a wall near the small slits that showed out of the bunker. Three of the weapons were rocket launchers, and were already loaded and ready to be fired. The Celestian grabbed one of the rocket launchers and handed it to the Krieger, then one to the Merc, and the third to the Astartes, shoving it against him roughly. "Watch your back blast and pick your targets, they don't have much ammo so let's make them count." She, herself, took a heavy flamer and prepped the weapon.


[System]
Dr. Emmy | Carter | Emmy

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"When life gives you lemons, make some lemonade!"

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Birthday & Age
May 6 | 29
Santa Ana, California

 Gender & Sexual Orientation
Female | Closeted Bisexual

 Other Labels
Sweetheart | Caucasian | American | Agnostic | Liberal

 Occupation
Pediatrician Specialized in Neonatal Medicine

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"I'm walking on sunshine, woah! | And don't it feel good!"

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Personality
The Positive:
* Sweet
* Kind
* Patient
* Energetic
* Loyal
* Caring
* Affectionate

The Negative:
* Emotional
* Too Trusting
* Wears her heart on her sleeve
* Can be a little annoying sometimes
* Naive

Evaluation Observations:
Upon first encounters, you may notice that Emmy is this bubbly, energetic ball of sunshine. She always has a smile on her face, and no matter the circumstances she sees the bright side of things. She's the type to try and cheer up her coworkers and bring little baked goods for everyone every once in a while to brighten up their day. She's also very patient, kind-hearted and smart.

Actual Personality:
When you get to know Emmy, you realize that what you saw in your first encounter is what you get. However, the fact that she's single with no children makes for a rather lonely life, as there is nothing more that she wants so badly than to have a family of her own. Rumor has it that she can get a little too attached to her tiny patients because she doesn't have children of her own. Sometimes, when she lets her guard down, you could catch her crying over not being able to help a patient or some other little thing (once she cried over not making enough cupcakes for everyone because she'd miscounted).

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"Live life to the fullest, and focus on the positive." - Matt Cameron

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 My Dreams
Even though Emmy has achieved most of her dreams by becoming a pediatrician and saving the lives of many newborns and children, there are still some things she wants to do. One of Emilia's dreams is to live her own love story, get married to that special someone, and to have a few of those wonderful babies she loves so much. In order to achieve that, though, she needs to find that Prince Charming first.

 Fears
* Infertility
* Being Eternally Single
* Losing her job
* Losing a patient

 Likes
* Babies and Children
* Pop music
* Her job
* Cheesy Romantic TV Series
* Cheesy Romance Novels
* Romantic Comedies
* Coffee
* Margaritas

 Dislikes
* Self-centered people
* Drugs
* Cheaters
* Hard liquor
* Tequila shots (after a rather memorable college incident)
* Any life-threatening ailment to her little patients

 Reputation
The resident sweetheart with the heart of gold, who wears that very same heart on her sleeve.

[User]
Christopher Freeman

I'm not gonna swallow the lie that I'm fed
Cos I want the world coming down on my head
You're gonna find out you're already dead
And I was the world coming down on your head

---

"I don't think you understand, son. There's an emergency. It's probably an absolute ruckus up there. Do you think my ears can handle that kind of noise? No, precisely. So you'll have to deliver the flipping blood samples yourself, won't you?"

It was common knowledge among interns that you do not want under Dr Christopher Freeman. Ever. He would work them hard and use them for menial tasks that are too dull for him. This one was impressive, he had been working under Christopher for three weeks and his spirit hadn't been broken. Christopher liked the young man's spunk and determination, and therefore felt the need to work him harder than usual. As the boy ran off with the blood tests, Christopher moved quickly to the young man's work station in the lab. He seemed to be working on some equation he couldn't get the hang of for school. Topher was also known for being helpful towards those who he respected, so sticking to that image, he wrote out the hardest part of the work for the young man, and left him a note telling him that he just earned a 30 minute coffee break.

He returned back to his desk, cleaning up various test tubes and watch-glasses. This was the menial part of his job, cleaning up his mess. He truly adored his work, but it could be a bit tiresome. Nonetheless, without him the entire hospital would collapse. He was one of the best lab techs in the U.S., and everyone knew it, including himself. What he was doing was important research for the sake of the country. Or something like that, the usual spiel his mother gave him whenever she visited him.

He nodded at the intern as he came back. "Right then, I'm off on my break. I think I'll go and help with the ambulances. You'll know where to find me." His voice was unnaturally slow and he meticulously pronounced each syllable, a trick he learnt from speech therapy.

"Are you sure, Dr Freeman? I mean, you just said you wouldn't go up there... And you look exhausted..."

"Calm down, Lucas. I'll be just fine. What's the point of working in a hospital if you can't help 24/7."

As he entered the auditorium, the wailing sirens screamed over his thoughts. It almost hurt him, sending him into a state of panic. He was tired, and his sensitive ears were getting the better of him. He needed to get out, but he wanted to help. That was his job.

That being said, he never usually had to deal with this kind of noise. Taking a few deep breaths, he prepared for the worst. If distressed relatives needed help, he'd be there. If an impromptu blood test was needed, he'd be there. He looked around the room, spotting Tamara Hayes standing around, presumably as determined to help out as he was. He didn't think she was particularly bad company, so he walked up to her, coughing to make his presence know.

"Well hello there. Someone looks tired today. Were you working all night or...?" Small talk was, clearly, not his forte.

[Assistant]
SALEH ALNAELI

---

They day started like any normal day that he would have had coming back from his one free day off. Saleh got in an early morning work out at the gym followed by a stop at his favorite coffee joint for a dark coffee with no sugar. The darker the better as it helped energize and fuel his body for whatever was going to come next during his shift. Things were always unpredictable at Caduceus Memorial Hospital, something Saleh secretly enjoyed. Sure he was a man who favored routine, but being a doctor there never really was a routine, just rituals one did before the day would begin. That's what kept him sane, having rituals to keep his thoughts aligned on the straight and narrow.

Being at CMH for a little more than a year, Saleh was still trying to integrate himself more into the community. Sure he was well liked by most of his superiors and the interns, but his other colleagues he needed to find more time to get to know. That was one thing he knew that he was lacking in as he was always throwing himself onto a case rather than getting to know those around him. His father would have been proud of all the work he has been doing, but his mother on the other hand would have bickered that he didn't have any friends to keep him company while he was there.

As he pulled up into the Caduceus Memorial staff parking lot his phone's emergency text vibrated and rang. There was a colossal mess of an accident and his name was on team one of the triage. Without hesitation he bolted out of his car and rushed inside, leaving most of his belongings in his car other than his badge and scrubs. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it into his car, swapping on his scrubs as he entered the hospital lobby, making his way to the trauma center.

Saleh hadn't read who else was on the triage team as it never really mattered, the only thing that mattered to him was that he was summoned so he was going to do his job. But, it did ease his mind at who he was teamed with as all the doctors at CMH were competent enough, he knew with confidence those who stood before him were some of the best there.

"Dr. Kim, Dr. Ivanov." He said with a respectful greeting bow. "Glad to be working with you today." Sure Saleh sounded like a kiss-ass with his good morning's, but it was how he was raised and it stuck on him like glue.


[System]
Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Outreman, previously citizen of Angjusk

Occupation: Deputy head of department - Cradle Research & Development

Cybernetics:
* Cradle quick-access implant - Allows access to and from the Cradle environment without additional hardware. This advanced module also reduces fatigue caused by the process, allowing power users multiple entries in a single day.
* Tier 7c 'Cradle Builder' suite - Grants access to the programs created specifically for 'terraforming' the Cradle. Tier 7 out of 20 allows Freyr to auto-build a variety of specialised equipment and propose-build mid level structures.
* Ilyes Brand communication and productivity module - Standard implant for access to Outremer's communications network. Also integrates with many well known productivity tools like a personal assistant, as well as more bespoke scientific tools.

Backstory:
Freyr was born on Angjusk, an older colony than Outremer that was renowned for its military materiel, particularly star ships.

Her mother was an innovations tsar assigned by the government to a consortium of the planet's largest ship manufacturers. During most of Freyr's childhood, her mother's sole task was making sure Angjusk battle fleets were the best money could buy in the Diaspora.

Before she was born, her father owned and operated a series of protein farms across Angjusk. After a chance encounter at a lobby meeting, he was headhunted to co-ordinate the military industrial complex's entire food supply chain. He also met his future wife, as it was Freyr's mother who had recommended him for the job on that fateful day in the lobby.

Freyr was born five years later. Her early life was a whirlwind of schooling, snatches of intimacy with her parents (when they weren't busy) and extended periods with friends. She discovered a natural capacity for learning and excelled in her studies. So much so that she received offers from universities across the Diaspora to come and develop with them.

Her mother and father both pressured her to consider diplomas like Interplanetary Relations or Agrarian Policy. However Freyr was not interested in pursuing a career in politics. Angjusk has been involved in at least a dozen small conflicts since Freyr had been born. She had seen how politicians would destroy entire cultures for the sake of influence, and wanted none of it.

In her first act of defiance, Freyr accepted a position at a school in Babylon, the main city of a far away frontier colony called Outremer. Driven more by the desire to have time away from her planet than by the subjects on offer, she researched what Outremer was known for. It was here that she first discovered the object powering this section of the Diaspora - the Cradle.

She quickly became obsessed with its untapped potential and seemingly unknowable past. She decided to pursue Xenobiology and Machine Intelligence as her subjects of interest, voraciously consuming the knowledge gathered so far on the Cradle.

It was here at the university that she met her future partner, David, who was studying art history. Isolated from her family and friends, alone on a strange planet, Freyr was glad of his unassuming company and kindness. They grew very close over the course of their degrees, and moved in together after graduation. Their daughter Amy was born a few years later.

After Uni, Freyr was picked up by an Outremer administration outreach team and placed in a government career fast lane. Her obsession with the Cradle made her an obvious choice for the Cradle Research & Development department. Once there, she quickly proved herself capable. Several breakthroughs in her first five years meant she was allowed to hand select a team of dynamic young individuals to help pursue her work. A couple more catapulted her into a deputy head of department role, to the ire of some of it's older and more entrenched members.

It was on her 34th birthday that the Cradle abducted her family. It had been acting strangely for weeks prior, rolling back years of terraforming. Freyr had been working round the clock to figure out why, practically living at her field office by the Border. David had bought sweet treats and had Amy with her.

What can only be described as creatures emerged from beyond the Border and overran the camp. A panic spread through the mostly unarmed workers, leading many to flee for their lives. Freyr's last memory of her family was being propelled across the camp by one of the creatures. She could only watch from her position immobile on the floor as they carried off her husband and little girl.

Security forces conducted a sweep of the immediate area beyond the Border, but found no sign of them. So Freyr began looking by herself as soon as her broken bones were reconstructed. Months went by. Her work stopped and her mental health deteriorated. Eventually she was placed on sick leave and her access revoked, after she attempted to use her influence to organise an armed excursion deep into the uncontrolled zone.

[User]
Inwardly, Vreta wished they could just get the trucks moving. One of the soldiers had gotten it started, but they were probably going to wait as long as they could get away with to save as many of their people as they could. Without a doubt, Vreta was not going to be able to dissuade them from that; there was no point in even trying. The best he could hope to do was to speed along the process.

Vreta climbed up onto the open back of the truck. There were plenty of seats in the back, but he did not try to squeeze into any of them just yet. He remained standing in the back, alternating between firing off shots at any approaching hounds and helping to hoist up soldiers into the back with him. He did not much like putting more stress on his injured arm, but he just kept reminding himself that it was not his actual arm.

If there was one thing Vreta could be relieved about with these hounds, it was that they would actually die when shot, which could not be said about the first creature they saw. He had not been terribly impressed with these soldiers so far, but now that they were being backed into their final "corner", into these vehicles they had to defend, their desperation was inspiring a decent defense. As they were loading up the trucks, soldiers in the back joined in laying down fire on the advancing hounds. The situation was far from "good", but it was actually seeming somewhat better for a time…until it very suddenly became much worse.

The first of the creatures, the monstrous insect that had simply refused to die, had returned. "Damn it…we need to leave!" Vreta shouted, though he would not be surprised if he was not heard in the chaos. At the very least, there was something new he had to work with, this time around. All of the trucks had a mounted turret on top, and they looked stronger than the standard rifles. His truck was nearly full in any case, so Vreta quickly transitioned from helping up the others and moved behind the turret. He might not have been the most familiar with their vehicles, but he had spent more time learning about their weapons. The turret's controls were intuitive enough, so he traversed it left until he could bring the muzzle to bear on the insectoid. From there, he opened fire with no intent to stop until something was dead. The heavy energy projectiles were larger, brighter, and certainly sounded more hefty than those of the rifles. He supposed he would see soon if the extra energy was actually meaningful.

[Assistant]
The insectoid nightmare issued the same nails-on-a-chalkboard scream under the hail of concentrated energy, and charged the front truck that Vreta occupied. Lieutenant Rowe, now one of the final surviving soldiers to have not got into a vehicle, saw the creature's approach and began running toward it. "Get out of here NOW!" He yelled, grabbing a limpet charge from the back of Vreta's truck just as it began turning to leave the compound. On the run, he shot two canines in his way before dropping the empty pistol and attaching the charge to his chest. With hellhounds diverting their attention from the bright lights of the truck to chase him, Rowe met the charging insect creature about twenty metres in front of the trucks and detonated the limpet. He vanished as a deafening directional explosion sprayed blood over the bonnet of the first truck. The creature was bounced directly through a glass window on the adjacent office building's first floor.

The force of the explosion knocked Freyr, and the canine trying to bite her face off, to the ground. She could feel the truck she'd previously been pinned against rolling off behind her. She managed to wrestle her way on top of the struggling hound and put a bullet in its snapping snout. Staggering to her feet, she turned around and saw the convoy quickly turning in the car park space, to face the compound exit. Soldiers were standing up in the open back of all the trucks, firing behind her. Their faces were yelling at her to get aboard, but her ears were still ringing from the explosion. She had no idea how to get aboard now they were all in motion, but fortunately, the passenger door of the third truck swung open and she could see Bishop leaning across the seats with his hand outstretched, his dark face slick with sweat inside his helmet. She ran to the side of the truck and grabbed his hand. He immediately hauled her into the cabin, where she managed to tuck herself in and slam the door shut.

With the first truck having completed the U-turn, the four-vehicle convoy sped up considerably, motoring toward the compound exit with canines flooding around the skirts. Freyr realised she was hyper ventilating when she got sat down, and tried to calm herself. The sound of the energy cannon above them was ear-splittingly loud, but she could just about hear Bishop's bellowing voice as he peered through the rear view mirror. "The Border is coming! Move it!" He shouted, leaning on the truck horn.

[User]
As they began to accelerate, Vreta turned his turret around and swiveled it to focus on hounds running at them from the side. The insectoid monster, if not dead, was at least prevented from reaching the trucks. The soldier's sacrifice, he felt, was a brave one, and perhaps necessary for their escape. Despite how quickly most of the rest of these soldiers had crumbled under the pressure from these monsters, he had done well. Vreta had wished it had been another of the soldiers to make the sacrifice; their leader would have been more useful to keep around than any of the others.

The heavy turret Vreta was using could essentially blast apart one of the hounds in a single shot, but even with several of them firing, they could not deal with all of the beasts swarming them. Not before a few of the trucks at the rear of the convoy had hounds reach them and start climbing up the sides. With Vreta's truck being at the front of the convoy, though, there was little he could do to help. There would be far too much risk of damaging either the trucks, or the people in them, if he tried turning his turret on them. There were still plenty of armed soldiers in the trucks, though, so they would just have to deal with the beasts themselves.

The hounds were not going to be reaching the front vehicle once they were up to speed, so as long as they could continue to outrun the border, it finally started to seem like they had a clear escape ahead of them. He had run out of targets to shoot from the angles available to him, so he was finally able to just lean back in his seat and catch his breath. They were not out of danger yet, but he was feeling calmer…which meant he was also starting to feel some of the sensations his mind had been repressing. His arm was slowly filling with a sharp, burning pain that had him wincing. The bleeding was not alarmingly severe, but it also had not yet stopped. For a moment, he intended to ask someone to bandage him, but looking around the back of the truck, he saw a few Humans that were…far worse off than he was, to put it mildly. For now, Vreta just kept quiet and held one arm under the other to keep pressure on the wound.

[Assistant]
Freyr could hear the hell hounds scrabbling at the armour plate doors above the din of the energy cannon. But she barely saw them in her rear view mirror; her eyes were glued to the rippling Border wall. The lights were out on the road they'd powered onto, but the convoy's floodlights traced the purple arteries running up that black curtain of night. Gradually, she could see canines appearing in the rearview mirror too, as they failed to keep up with the speeding trucks. The Border caught up with them, sucking them in.

"It's reclaiming this whole site." Freyr murmured, fascinated despite everything that was happening. She'd never seen the Cradle react in such a way, no one had. "Cradle Control, come in. We could really use reinforcements at our nearest transit station, over!" Bishop called into his comms unit. "Dagger 7, we're receiving-"

"Bishop, look out!" Freyr shouted over the reply.

The Border surged forward suddenly, rushing up and swallowing the fourth vehicle in their convoy. For a moment it looked like they may be able to outrun it, but the Border kept gathering speed and enveloped them. Once inside, the sound muffled considerably, and the atmosphere filled with thousands of white flakes. Freyr's lungs felt the pressure right away, as the Cradle began reducing the oxygen programmed into this previously colonised area.

After a couple of seconds, the truck began alternating between regular engine noise and a shrill whining sound, as though systems were failing. The halo of bright lights around the sides of the truck flickered and died, leaving just the headlights and gun lights. "No no no no no!" Bishop yelled, hitting buttons on the dashboard. "Are we slowing down? What's happening?" A soldier called in through the hatch separating the cabin from the turret and troop bay. "Yeah! Something is messing with us. I think I can at least get the lights back on!" Bishop replied.

Still peering through the rearview mirror, Freyr let out a surprised yelp when the lights came back on. A large, pale, long-legged beetle with the now synonymous purple tendril extensions was perched on top of the truck behind them, ripping the helpless soldiers aboard it apart with its pincers. Freyr could see several of the tendrils flailing around inside the cabin, grabbing at the driver. The truck veered off the road, into the uncharted ground alongside.

"They're under attack, shoot that thing!" Freyr shouted, her face stuck up against the side window. "Fuck that, we have more incoming!" The soldier on the turret yelled, firing at four more of the beetles as they raced out of the swirling storm of flakes at blistering speed, two either side of the convoy. "How are they going that fast?!" Bishop exclaimed. "Tiger beetles are built for speed!" The biologist in Freyr forced her to answer.


[System]
Age: 211, to his best estimate
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192 lbs
Race: Vampire
Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era)
Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living.

For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely.

Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion.

When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since.

For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since.

Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.

[User]
As Victoria began to explain what had happened, Vail listened to her patiently. He could tell she was still struggling to keep from growing hysteric as she thought about what she had been through, so pushing her to speak faster wouldn't help either of them. Instead, he simply held her gaze and ran his hand down and up her back in a soothing gesture, hoping she would remain calm enough to tell him everything before she broke down from the overwhelming emotions.

When she described how her fiancé had found out about them, it seemed his guess about Spencer had been right. After the last night they had been together, his scent had been strong enough on her body for the rival vampire to catch. He clenched his jaw, feeling her tremble beneath his fingertips. He could already tell that the Wynter had reacted poorly to the discovery from her body language alone. Despite his intention to remain calm, he could feel his blood beginning to boil at the thought of what the Lord might have done to her in his anger.

As Victoria went on, he forced a slow breath. Not only had Spencer defiled the Lady by stripping her, it sounded like he had hurt her as well. And that wasn't even the end of it. He couldn't hide the look of shock that crossed his features when she described how the Wynter had drained her of her blood. The knowledge made him stiffen as his reign on his temper grew less stable. He couldn't stand the thought of another vampire feeding on her in such an abominable way. To drink it from a bottle? It was completely unnatural.

Besides that, the possessive part of him loathed knowing that anyone else would taste so much as a single drop of the precious liquid that flowed through her veins. He wanted it all to himself, wanted her all to himself. It sickened him to know that another vampire had stolen her blood when he hadn't been around to stop it. She was his prey to have at his pleasure, and he wasn't willing to share.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again when she went on to reveal, to his horror, that there was still more to the story. At her final words, anger flashed across his face. Somehow, knowing that Spencer had tried to take advantage of her weakened body was even more infuriating than finding out that he had drained her blood. He was as protective of her as if she was his betrothed, and he wouldn't stand for any other man who wished to take from her what she had given to him.

"I'm going to kill him," the words came out in a dangerously quiet snarl. He trembled slightly with barely restrained fury. "I don't care if it's not safe. That devil has done enough. I'm going to end him for this."

[Assistant]
Victoria leaned against Vail as she got more upset, she cried into her hands and then slowly turned to bury herself in his chest and cry against him instead. She trembled in his grasp. He needed him, more than as just a friend or even a shoulder to cry on. She needed him as a protector. And she wanted him as a lover, no matter how impossible it might be to succeed. She had never been soothed like he had soothed her by gently running his hand up and down her delicate back.

After a few minutes her sobbing had almost ceased to a sniffle. "Vail…" She managed to grasp just enough at the sides of his shirt, though her fingers still weak and shaky. She slowly looked up at him, her eyes reddened with tears and her cheeks wet. "…You're…serious?" She had to ask and double check what he just snarled. She saw the anger behind his eyes. He was really upset by what she told him. More than he should be. "…Why?" She had to hear it from him, she surmised it was his possessiveness over her blood. But was there more reasoning behind his quiet fury? She'd never seen him like this before. And why didn't he care about the danger of attempting to kill Spencer? A Wynter no less. He would spur the entire Wynter clan against him and his family? It must be a big enough deal to warrant such a vow of vengeance.

He also mentioned he would end him for this specific act of violence toward Lady Crest. She blinked at him slowly, examining his face carefully. "You would really incur the wrath of the Wynters…for me?" She seemed perplexed, as if she didn't understand his motivation. Was he really just that addicted to her blood, that he meant that he would kill Spencer for draining her of so much blood to a dangerous level? He was only here for one thing surely – her blood. If she had not seduced him on their previous encounter, then he would not have known such carnal pleasures of her flesh. Perhaps he wanted more, like she did. She knew that she could not stop thinking about that night they laid together. It was the most she had felt alive in her life.

[User]
As Victoria buried her head against his chest, Vail wrapped his arm around her in a gesture that was meant to comfort but was also innately protective. Still seething from what he had learned about Spencer, he found it impossible to think of any words to sooth her. All he could focus on was picturing the creative ways by which he would exact revenge on the Wynter for the things he had done. Draining the Lady of her blood in such a cruel and unnatural manner was twisted, but even more so, he was sickened to discover that another man had tried to force himself upon her when she could do nothing to defend herself. If he had been close enough to catch wind of what had been going on, he had no doubt in his mind that he would have killed the other vampire on the spot.

He looked down at Victoria as she feebly asked if he was serious. There was a tremor of confusion in her voice that demanded an explanation. Until now, he had been quiet about the depths of his feelings toward her, but there was no way to answer her questions without revealing more about how much he had come to care for her—about how he cared for her more than any vampire should ever care for a human. In his heart, he had already crossed that line. Hiding it had only delayed the inevitable confession.

"Without hesitation," he professed when she queried if he would really face the Wynters' wrath for her. The games were over. He was certain about how he felt about her, and if he was going to give his all to keep her safe from a monster like Spencer, there was no more reason to pretend like he only saw her as a blood bag.

Swayed by the weight of his conviction, he brought a hand to Victoria's cheek and leaned in to press his lips against hers. He kissed her deeply, no longer held back by the reservations that had plagued him before. He was committed to the fate he'd chosen. The repercussions were inconsequential.

When he pulled back again, there was determination mingled with the anger in his eyes. "I would do anything for you, Victoria. You're more to me than just the blood in your veins. If killing that bastard is what it takes for me to be with you, then I'll drive the bullet through his heart with my hand."

[Assistant]
Victoria felt one hundred times better when Vail wrapped his arm around her protectively. His silence was almost deafening as she cried. She thought he must be seething with anger. As he revealed that he would truly take the consequence for Spencer's death and his answer was so filled with conviction, she blinked, a single tear drop fell from her chin. As his hand took her chin with such a delicate touch, her heart practically skipped. He wasn't here just to feed on her, he wanted to give her affection by the looks of it. She welcomed his lips onto hers as she kissed him back just as deeply as he kissed her. She couldn't hide her rising pheromones.

Lady Crest smiled as Vail pulled his lips away from hers as she let out a long exhale. She had no idea the extent of his own wrath for the Lord after learning what he had done to her. A human whom he had now claimed that he would do anything for. Anything. He admitted that she was more than just a source of blood and nutrition for his needs and desires. But not only that, he said he wanted to be with her. That was a bold statement to make. As far as she knew, vampires and humans could not be together. Whether it was culturally unacceptable to vampires to be with their prey, she didn't know. Humans, however, well the humans who knew about vampires, she hadn't met anyone who thought it was fine for a vampire and a human to be romantically involved.

Victoria stared into Vail's eyes as she felt like her heart would burst from her chest. "You…want to….be with me?" Even if he had to drive a silver bullet through his adversary's heart himself barehanded was an even bolder statement. He had to be truly sure of himself and his capabilities to vow to do such a thing, against a Wynter no less. Suddenly she felt less shaky, less scared and…hopeful for once in her life. A vampire who could actually care for a human was no easy feat and no other human could claim that one had vowed to do anything for them as Vail had declared so openly to Victoria.

Without further hesitation, she grasped at his hand as much as she could and brought it to her face and she kissed the back of it and then nuzzled her cheek against his fingers. "Oh Vail.." She closed her eyes and sighed softly, taking in his presence, his cologne, his everything. Dare she express the joy in her fluttering heart to her truest feelings to this dangerous creature of the night? That she couldn't stop thinking about him. That every time she closed her eyes, he was there. That thoughts of seeing him again was the only thing keeping her going as she was bed ridden and helplessly kept prisoner in her own manor. "Is it really that simple?" She wondered how easy he thought being with her would be. Would Spencer be their only barrier? "If you kill Spencer…the Wynter's will never let you get away with it…they'll hunt us til the ends of the Earth." She warned him with a pained expression. "I couldn't bear it…if something happened to you…I…..want to be with you too." She confessed as her cheeks fully flushed red.


[System]
Katrina Carlus
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:

Personality: Katrina is a blunt, brusque, and boisterous girl. She is the type to get into a lot of fights, but not necessarily out of choice; she just ends up picking a lot due to being irreverent, easily offended and highly competitive. If she's given a good reason to hate someone, she will hold a grudge over it for a long time, and is far too stubborn to try and reconcile. She isn't incapable of making friends and being friendly, but she's easily provoked and difficult to approach. Anyone attempting to make friends with her will need the patience of a saint, if they even think it's worth the trouble.

While she may not seem like it, she is a true believer in the cause of the Knights of the Iron Rose. If you strip away several layers of caustic cynicism, you'll find a person that sincerely wants to help the weak and do right by others. Her desire to help is usually expressed in the manner of a Reonite; that she wants to smite evildoers with all the might in her arms. She would only rarely admit to having a more personal motivation to actually help people.

Brief Backstory: Katrina comes from a poor background in one of Thaln's major cities. She grew up in a large slum where crime and poverty were rife. As a small girl, she often witnessed many scenes of criminals and the like preying on weaker citizens, shaking them down for all the crumbs they had on them. Her own family was no exception to this, and their home was robbed many times in her youth. It was here that her anger grew, along with her desire to do something about all this injustice. As she got older, she began to fight a lot, learning to fight practically rather than through instruction. She gathered a small reputation for her assaults on the criminals of the slums, and this was how she was noticed by a knight of the Iron Rose, who wanted to introduce her to their order. Having grown up hearing stories of the knights, she had always idolised them, and was all too eager to join.

Her entry into the order was met with a mixed reception. Few could doubt her ability, especially as she developed further with proper instruction. Her dedication was certainly not in question, as she was more than ready to take up the cause of the knights. But she did not fit in well with the more traditional, hierarchical elements of the order, and she had no love for its antiquated traditions. She conflicted heavily with the aristocratic recruits of the order that weren't prepared to look past her background. While she could care less about the politics of succession, she certainly wishes for the order to flourish, and so she will be watching closely as to how the fresh command of the Knights of Iron Rose fares.

Equipment: Katrina's armour is lighter than most knights, though still fashioned from iron plates. Her weapon of choice is a double sword that she acquired during her time as a knight.

Skills: Katrina is like a rushing bull in combat, attempting to use a mixture of speed and power to overwhelm her opponent at close quarters. Her training has geared her towards making use of her unique weapon almost exclusively. This also means she's a bit inflexible in a fight.

[User]
Sir Garrett
Themerlinhawk

Garrett blinked as he approached where the three female Knights had so recently been. Hefting his maul he settled it on his shoulder a dry chuckle emanated from the Knights armor as he looked to his left. Raising his shield he caught an arrow from one bandits in the treeline. These bandits were seriously assaulting a line of Iron Rose Knights for some reason. Turning Garrett started walking towards the archer. The young man had a long bow; it trembled in his hand; as the bandit let the arrow fly Garrett swatted it with his warmaul. The bandit turned and tried to run; Garrett hurled the war maul end over end and it slammed into the man's knees with a sick crack as it blew out both knees from behind.

Looking around he could already see the other Knights dispatching the Bandits with glee and reckless abandon. Many of them had rushed to the captain seeking glory from defending the young girl who he was sure many of them had been bad mouthing recently and would no doubt blame for running to the aid of the man now propped behind the cart. It was sad really instead of serving the captain and trying to do their best to help out the Order they were squabbling like children.

Julianna was the worst as far as Garrett could tell; the others were just inexperienced or naive and didn't understand how things worked. Reaching down Garrett stifled the Bandits screaming with his grip of iron. Shouldering his kite shield over the big bastard sword currently hanging from his left shoulder Garrett picked up the maul from where it had landed. Another bandit came screaming bloody murder out of the tree line with his sword held high. Amateur.

The maul held in Garrett's right hand caught the bandit in the solar plexus with the end of it as Garrett jabbed him with the pummel of the maul. With a crunch and a gurgling cough the bandit staggered backwards as he folded over clutching his crushed sternum. With a swift underhand stroke Garrett obliterated the man's jaw sending pieces of flesh and bone flying in a terrific spray of gore. There was a sharp pop at the end of the man's twist as his neck snapped from the force of the blow.

Still dragging his injured captive Garrett started back towards the line of horses making use of his armor to block the on his left shoulder which was where the Kite shield hung, or simply running down the bandits before they could draw their bow. None of their weapons were adequate to penetrate the steel of Garrett's plate armor as he cut the brainless, poorly, trained fools down like so much wheat.

Tossing the man on the ground Garrett trapped him face down in the churned mud. Taking his kite shield off the large Knight simply stood and waited with his captive. The kite shield fended off any offending stray arrows as Garrett simply took in the sight of the other knights dealing with the bandits. It wasn't really his style to stand and wait but this was a good opportunity to take their measure; that and he doubted any of them would have bothered with a captive given the fact that they had been ambushed.

Garrett laughed again at Sult's comment. She certainly was a fiery little number; the big man filed it away for further contemplation. With a bellow at her retreating form he ground his heel on his captive "Fine! Go have fun on your own you little fluzy! I have my own friend here so I have no need of you." With another chuckle to himself Garrett checked to make sure his captive was still breathing.

[Assistant]
For a few moments, Fanilly found herself caught in shock at the sight of a man's body cut completely in half by the undead knight herself. While she had certainly seen blood before, and even death, seeing a man cut in half right in front of her was something truly different. But... no, she couldn't simply remain there. Taking advantage of the defensive position that the heavily-armored knight had taken, the young captain turned swiftly. Now. Now was time to command, to prove herself...!

"Stand firm, their numbers are small!" she declared. Even now, at the immediate response of the knights(and the presence of even more forces beyond them), the bandits quickly faltered as some of their number was slain so rapidly. And one man even bisected entirely... It was clear they hadn't expected the Iron Rose Knights!

While she had a moment, she cast a quick glance at Julianna before returning her gaze to the downed man. No, as much as he needed help... she was a captain. "As son as this battle is over we can tend to your injuries!"

She turned to face Julianna immediately. Now this... this was a situation where she had to act swiftly.

"Keep him safe. As... as Iron Rose Knights, it is our duty," Fanilly said, swiftly. Truthfully, she did not feel right leaving him. But if he was defended, then she could take her position as Captain. She had to. If she did not...

Even if there numbers were small... she had to show she was worthy of being captain. That meant defending the civilian and leading the knights in battle.

Many of the archers had been dealt with. Fanilly moved forward swiftly, and as she met another bandit he took a wild, frightened swing at her. Catching it in her dagger, the short blonde thrust her longsword forward and drove it through his leather armor, deep into his chest, piercing through his back. He fell with a gasp and lay still as she drew her sword from him.

The few remaining bandits, their numbers already so thinned, were breaking.

"We... we have to report back! The... the Iron Roses...!"

There were few left, and some were starting to try and flee. A few others remained, drawing bows and raising their weapons, albeit deeply shaken.

"Do not let them retreat!" cried Fanilly, "They will report our presence and prepare for an attack!"

[User]
"Poison might not be cheap, but that depends on your definition of poison," Tiral remarked, fully thankful for the assistance... Regardless of how eccentric that assistance was. Continuing to go and block the attacks, the young knight nodded as his situation became less numerically tilted against him. With a short huff, Tiral quickly moved to attack, pulling back his sword as he started to chant.

"Extend and freeze."

The blade of his sword, now sheathed in a layer of ice, shot forward, catching the bandit off guard as the weapon sliced through his midsection as if it was butter before returning back to its original state. Flicking the weapon to clear it of any remaining water, Tiral turned his attention to the captain's shouting.

More escapees? Oh, for the love of--!

"I'll handle it!" Tiral shouted, sheathing his sword and pulling out the little dagger from underneath his armor. "Just keep me safe a while longer!"

Tiral eyed the bandits who were turning tail, albeit just barely, through the woods; four were slowly starting to scramble through the underbrush, which was all he needed to know.

"Let mine enemies cower in fear. Let them freeze in their tracks, lamenting their own fate. Let them despair, knowing they have crossed the Iron Rose Knights! With their power behind me, I decree: move no longer!"

With a hearty cry, Tiral swung his dagger in an arc in front of him before swinging it downward. Immediately, four lines of ice began to snake out from his feet, hungrily seeking the would-be escapees. Once they found their mark, the ice seemed to crawl up their legs and lock them in place. Struggle as their might, the ice did not seem like it would budge. It only grew worse, though, as the ice continued its way up, shards of it now digging into their targets' flesh and dyeing itself an odd hue of reddish-pink.

The beads of sweat now dotting Tiral's face showed but a glimpse of how taxing such a spell was on him. Though by no means an end-all be-all solution, it would at least prevent the enemies from shoring up their defenses in time.

"I... Believe this should suffice...?" he asked rhetorically, a halfhearted smile on his face before turning to Sult. "Thanks for earlier, though... Not the sort to handle fighting more than one at a time..."

[Assistant]
Katrina was halfway through sawing another bandit in half when the captain's voice rang out. It seemed she was finally getting herself involved. At least she hadn't completely lost her nerve and panicked or something, which would have been an outright death knell for her career...at least as far as Katrina was concerned. Finishing off the bandit she had been working on, Katrina heard the ones that wanted to report back. Katrina was about to set upon them even before the captain made an extremely obvious order. But her efforts were unnecessary, as their resident ice mage Tiral saw to the fleeing cowards. Katrina was a little disappointed, but there were other targets to be had; in particular, some of them had the nerve to carry on fighting.

Katrina immediately set upon the closest bandits that still gripped their weapons tightly. Before, she had been taking her time with her kills, performing excessive flourishes to get more out of it. But with them looking like they wanted to run, she figured it was best she cut them down swiftly. Three of them fell, one after the other, as Katrina guided her double sword through their soft armor and even softer flesh. They might have had the guts to keep fighting in the face of all this, but Katrina had just fixed that problem; their guts were now displayed on the ground for all to see.

"Disappointing, really..." She murmured to herself. She had fun, but it was over a little too quickly for her liking. "...fortunately there's more to be had." Thinking beyond the present scene, she knew there laid a whole slew of other bandits. Of course, they had yet to see this jumped up "Bandit King Jeremiah". Katrina wanted to take his head personally. Not for the glory, but so she could rest easy knowing she had cut the head off this serpent.