[System]
Gender:
Height:
Age:
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Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:

Modify and send to me as you see fit!

[User]
Aquilan was not a greedy man and he knew the importance of keeping the precarious alliance for now. He ignored the Drow's threat and crossed the small distance between himself and her small supply boat. The first gulp of water soothed his dry throat. He took one more as his eyes strayed towards the cliff. The cliff was almost beautiful to look at had it not been for that daunting feeling of being trapped. He slowly put the water barrel back down, his mind trying to make sense of the situation he suddenly found himself the moment he woke up.

Perhaps being trapped in this god forsaken place isn't such a bad thing. I have nothing to look forward to back in Elswin and nothing to go home to, he found himself thinking grimly.

And what of your plans to seek out the Church's assistance with this predicament forced upon us? came the proud voice in his head.

Quil almost laughed out loud. It was ironic, this concept of him being able to make it back to Elswin alive. Hadn't he heard about the dangers the island holds when he was still a child? No one ever made it back once they stepped foot on Crator Island. It was common knowledge. "Well, Lady, I have no great confidence in my chances of survival in an unknown terrain like this one. Even you thought that death would have served me better than finding myself stuck here," he responded.

There was a long pause that Quil assumed to mean that the phoenix was weighing her options. To have Quil die may mean her death too. Their souls have been so intertwined with each other that the elf's death may be her death as well. If she wanted to be free from this mortal trap, she would have to cooperate with the elf so that he may seek other ways of separating them.

I shall lend you my power, came the phoenix's steady and sure voice.

Quil sighed. "I suppose I should thank you for it. But lending me your power would not ensure our survival. But, I thank you all the same," he said as he stepped out of the small boat and headed towards the only inhabitable looking ship wreck on the beach.

[Assistant]
No darkness filled this mighty ship's hold as Zarriia peered into the hull breach. Another hole could be seen on the opposite side of the ship, as though something not much larger than herself had gone completely through this armored dwarven ship. Crates filled the room, however it appeared that the innards of the ship were very badly damaged. The rooms and hold space in the bow of the ship were inaccessible. As Zarriia stood in the entrance of this ship, she could tell one thing was very off about this wreck- About all of these wrecks. These ships had not crashed via wave, no they had fallen. These ships had fallen from the sky, while it is likely this dwarven vessel may be an airship, the sail bearing vessels that were around them on the beach had no means of getting where they were. A natural tide would have ground the wrecks to splinters years ago. Not to mention that this ship was not filled with seawater despite the innards being slightly lower than the sand. The floor was cracked and bent as sand seemed to have forced it's way from beneath the boards. This ship would offer shelter, however there were still two very easily accessible holes for which man and varmint alike may enter. Aside from these details, the only other thing present was a large crate and several barrels that looked to be well aged. These crates and barrels are still tied to the pallet that had been loaded onto the ship in port. With luck, they may be full of much needed supplies or tools.
Aquilan would place the barrel down to speak to the drow only to see that she was no longer near him. The silence with which Zarriia moved was unsettling, though the sand would help with this no doubt. His eyes had no problem spotting her, however. Zarriia had already started toward the dwarven ship with weapons ready. One could hope she was eager to find shelter, however the smart man would know this drow was craving a fight. Either way, she was taking the risk of going first. As he followed, he would note that at least one tale of drowish women were true, they are rather pleasing to look at.
To Aquilan, the dwarven ship was without a doubt meant for the skies. He could tell simply from it's lack of sails that the ship was an early model much like the ones sent in the first explorations of the Western sea. How it managed to suffer such a strange hull breach was indeed quite the mystery, as this bend in its hull was not beneath the ship, but in its side just beneath the top deck. To his knowledge, this ship would have three decks beneath the first, however as he followed the drow and could see within the ship he would see that the other decks were inaccessible. The ship was likely missing it's entire bottom half given the consistency of the sand.

[User]
The drow woman frowned at the holes in mild concern. She would have preferred one way in and a wall she could get about at her back. But as this was what she had, it would do for the first night. Night would fall and far too quickly for Zarriia's liking. They would need firewood, which seemed plentiful, and something to block the back of the whole. Sizing them up her brow furrowed as she worked out whether the small boat she came in could be put on it's side or propped against the ship to perhaps limit the light of the fire and make a rough wall. But she kept her steps light and weapons at the ready as she moved over to the supplies in the dwarven ship to pry lids off of the barrels and crate to see what laid inside.

As she moved and worked carefully, there was no need to get a asp in the face, or some deadly trap, Zarriia was prepared to jump away or 'hit the deck'. Her lips twitched at the humor in that thought, though she didn't let the elf see it. Best he think her ruthless, cold and deadly. Safer for her, and better to keep him quelled. Speaking with a authoritative tone, she purred adding a sultry inflection on her voice. "Do be a dear and get fire wood and bring out supplies over here. Night will be upon us soon, and I'd rather not attract unwanted attention." Sharp eyes cast over her shoulder at Aquilla, "Lest you think these fell by sheer happen stance?"

[Assistant]
Quil's sharp eyes shifted from admiring the drow to the dwarven ship. The wreck, he noted was actually an airship and not a sea faring vessel. The hull was intact in most parts but the breach just beneath the top deck was probably what caused it to crash. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out from where he was standing the emblem that was painted on the hull. The paint was faded but it was still visible. It looked familiar but Quil couldn't quite place where he had seen it before. Dismissing the thought for the meantime, he turned his attention to where he was going. He was at the hull breach's edge when he heard the Drow's commanding voice.

"No, I do not think that this ship ran aground by coincidence," he commented as his eyes fell on the hole opposite the one he came in from. "Something shot it out of the sky from the way its damages look. Of course, I can always be wrong," he said before turning away to do as she commanded. He did, after all, promised to do as she said.

Gathering firewood was an easy task as there was plenty lying round. It took Quil only several minutes to have enough firewood gathered and pull the small supply boat to where the wreck was.

[User]
The sun was already at an angle in the sky as the time passed.

Zarriia would be startled as two doves fled their roost from one of the nearby beams that had separated from the decking above. The lids of the barrels were easy enough to split, revealing what looked and smelled like dwarven ale. She would have no idea if the stuff was sour or not, but it was something worth finding. If nothing else, the barrel would offer a easy place to store rainwater. The several tied down crates were harder to get into. Telling Aquilan to gather firewood, she would set to work. The rope holding down the crates was still very strong, which means that it would be a waste to cut it. Maneuvering the ropes to the edges of the crates, she was able to pry the lid off of one of the crates in the time it took Aquilan to gather a healthy bundle of firewood and move the small boat up the beach.

Aquilan would set out to gathering driftwood and planks to prepare for whatever night may hold. He spent very little time picking up the light wooden planks that were littered about the beach, however a strange ship managed to catch his eye. This boat was made out of ironwood, making it's hull glow a different color in the rising sun's light. The symbol of a dove in flight was visible on the upside down ship's bow just before the sandline. Something about the ship seemed to cause him pause. Though there was little time for exploring at the moment. He moved on after dropping off the firewood to move the dinghy up the beach where the drow had requested. Aquilan would note that this boat was a lot heavier than it looked. Dragging it up the beach proved to be a slight challenge, however it was doable without too much exertion. After dragging the boat up the beach, he would not the drow has managed to open one of the unravaged crates.

Inside of this crate was a sight that would normally be appalling to Zarriia. Dwarven military rations. The crate was packed with them, more than enough to last her and the elf for the greater part of two weeks should they eat nothing else. Not to mention there were two more crates tied down with this one.

[Assistant]
The Drow glanced up at the doves before dismissing them as not a threat. They were merely doves, but doves meant food. Tempting as it was to string her bow and hunt, it wasn't the time. Not yet. They had supplies, and if worst came to worst she'd resort to eating the elf. It was a horrible thing to do but it was a matter of survival. Zarriia was nothing if not a survivor. The ale would be useful, though not as a drink. It would not be worth while. Better to use it as a weapon, or fuel if it resorted to that. Wedging the ropes off she steadily worked it off the lid, pulling it off quickly. Her sword was ready to attack any threat or deflect it.

Letting the ropes remain on the other two she replace the lids and began to dig a pit of the fire. Adjusting it so it was higher on the side with a clear veiw of the beach. "Put the wood for the fire in there. Stack the rest in the boat to help weigh it down." She looked at the spare entrance, checking both the time and weather as she did so. "Don't drink the ale, may be of use later. Three boxes of rations." Her voice gave a deep chuckle. "You have a affinity with fire. Something comes up, dump ale on them and set it on fire." She grinned with a violent glee. "Sounds like a warm bonfire."

[User]
Quil silently complied with the Drow's commands, his mind on the ironwood wreck on the beach. The insignia on it was strangely familiar to him the way the dwarven emblem was. But he couldn't quite figure out where he had seen it or why it even mattered.

Because it symbolizes the civilization you desire to return to, the ellegant voice in his head declared.

Is that it? Is that the only reason why I think it's familiar somehow? Quil thought back. Normally, he would have spoken out aloud but he was in close proximity of the drow and he didn't want her to know of his unique situation. He dumped firewood into the pit that the drow had made and the rest into the dinghy. When the phoenix didn't answer, he thought to ask another question. Do you recognize the signs?

A haughty voice answered. I do not concern myself with mortal made symbols.

Quil sighed just as the drow's sharp voice cut through his thougts. "You have a affinity with fire. Something comes up, dump ale on them and set it on fire." He looked towards the barrel filled with dwarven ale and shrugged his shoulder. He was never really fond of dwarven ale anyway. "As you wish," was all he said.

He paused as he quickly reassessed his situation. A drow that would no doubt kill him if she wanted. A phoenix that offered her help but at the same time probably wanted nothing more than to see him dead so she can be free. The leader of the Academy that sent him to the island under the pretense of a scientific mission but in truth wanted him dead. An island that shows no mercy and brought death upon anyone unlucky enough to set foot on its shores. Everything seemed to point to death. Wonderful, he thought sullenly.

Surviving may greatly depend on working together with his dark skinned kin. "My name is Aquilan. May I know yours?" he asked in a polite tone of voice.

[Assistant] The sky was absent of clouds as the sun was perhaps two hours away from being directly overhead. Time passed quickly as they scavenged the beach, work no doubt distracting the two elves from the horrid thoughts of death… well, perhaps distracting Aquilan. The fire pit took a while to make as Zarriia had to cut away pieces of the floor so that the wood beneath the fire would not catch flame and burn their shelter to the ground. The sand beneath offered the mound required to stack against the wooden floor. The slight slant to the floor offered an open view of this fire pit to the beach, though not a single ship had washed ashore or passed by during their time so far. As Zarriia filled the firepit with wood and situated the inside of the ship so that they could use it as a shelter, Aquilan would take note of just how desperate his situation was. He had worked to stack the driftwood and planks in the boat to block the other entrance as the drow had previously instructed, making only one entrance to this ship in which a fire pit had been erected near. The deck had a large grated door which would be opened when cargo would be loaded, meaning that the smoke would not be trapped within the hull. This shelter seemed to be quite perfect, however there was a new feeling that overtook both of the elves just as Zarriia would respond to Aquilian's request for her name. A feeling that something was watching them.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): June Bug

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Physical Appearance: Sayeeda is a medium sized woman of middle eastern extraction. She has the wiry build of a swimmer or long distance runner. Her eyes are dark and almond shaped and focus slightly beyond the horizon most of the time. Sayeeda keeps her hair just longer than a buzz cut in order to facilitate wearing her helmet. She has a large tattoo of several owls in flight on her right shoulder. Sayeeda does have feminine curves but her breasts are on the smaller size of average and she does very little to emphasize her gender.

Clothing:  Camo pants and a tank top are her civilian dress. She wears a ceramic breastplate if she is expecting trouble and also has a commo helmet which she uses in battle and for technical tasks.

Personality: Sayeeda is a former mercenary soldier and has a fairly relaxed view towards life. Anything and anyone not currently shooting at her is the second priority. She is very tightly wound when it comes to people doing what she expects them too in dangerous situations and she is extremely punctilious when it comes to fulfilling any sort of formal contract.

[User]
Sayeeda sat at the holotable of the Highlander, her elbows propped on the ceramo-plastic surface. Taya, Neil and Canek as at their own places while the waited for Taya to find what she was looking for in the databook they had taken from the former Pasha. Sayeeda was still wearing the harem girl outfit, though she had taken a few moments to wipe the grime away from her skin with cleaning wipes and she had added a jacket to the ensemble in deference to the cooler temperature created by the environmental control system.

"I'm not finding any records pertaining to the treasure ship," Taya said with a frown. Canek looked at her suspiciously. The mercenary captain looked considerably worse for wear. His right eyebrow and the hair on the side of his face had been singed away, and his skin was the unnervingly uniform color of a synthetic spray. Sayeeda, who had been severely burned during her time in the Armored, had some sympathy for him, but the fact that his goons had hit her over the head a few hours ago did someone dry that well.

"It won't directly mention the treasure ship," Canek prompted, "But there should be something, lights in the sky, unusual activity, strangers in the port." It stood to reason, if the Pasha or his ancestors had known the location of the treasure ship, they would certainly have claimed it long ago.

"Wait…" Taya said, tapping a few keys. The holo table sprang to life in a stylized view of the night sky above Hanh. An accented voice began to speak.

"I can seldom remember when the Lyre was in such opposition to the Queen of Darkness," the voice mused self importantly.

"These are astrological readings performed by the court Astrologer during the time the treasure ship was supposedly lost," Taya explained.

"Lonny can you do a search for any references to shooting stars or local variants of the term?" she asked.

"Aye Aye Lassie!" Lonny chirruped. There was a warbeling burst of sound which Sayeeda interpreted as the records being played at many times normal speed. The screen split into three, each recording a shooting star caught be the astrologers vid pickup. To Sayeeda's eye they all looked the same but Taya cooed in triumph and selected the right most screen, expanding it to the full size of the display.

"What's special about that one?" Canek demanded, leaning forward in spite of himself. Taya touched a few more keys and the display marked the track across the sky as a continuous line. There was a very slight arc to it which Lonny highlighted in red.

"Breaking thrust," Neil exclaimed, as a pilot he grasped the essentials faster than either Canek or Sayeeda did.

"Not much though, probably just the emergency systems, wouldn't have stopped a crash," he added, glancing down at the data scrolling past on the screen. Sayeeda frowned.

"Can we compute a vector from this information?" she asked, "A likely crash point?" Obediently the screen shifted, highlighting an area of several hundred square kilometers with a larger area around it highlighted in a lighter shade.

"Thats a big area," she said dubiously.

"We have nae information bout thruster discharge closer to the crash site Cap'n," Lonny explained, "We cannae be more precise than that."

"Its better information than anyone has had in a hundred years," Canek said with a grin.

"So we cant search this area with sensors or something?" Sayeeda asked, still dubiously. Canek shook his head.

"Unfortunately the poles are fairly heavily irradiated. There was water here once but a large uranium and soluble iron ferrite based asteroid blasted the planet some time in the distant past. Most of that radiation was sequestered in the water, which was drawn to the poles after the asteroid destroyed the original orbit. It's not dangerous in short bursts but it's enough to fox most sensors."

"Huh," Sayeeda said, shaking her head.

"So all we have to do is head up to a radioactive wasteland where an unknown number of psychotic treasure hunters are already scouring the landscape and hunt for a ship we can't use sensors to find in an area the size of a small country?" she asked. Canek spread his hands.

"I never said it would be easy, but if we pull this off you get your share and the parts you need to get off this rock."

[Assistant]
Neil and Sayeeda were ready to go, and to Neil's distaste, Saxon insisted on going along. He flexed his clawed paws as he insisted that if he did not brutalize someone or something soon, he would break apart the Highlander out of boredom. Neil believed him, and the three, along with Canek, made their way back to Canek's base to outfit themselves best they could. "I think we have a good arsenal back at the Highlander!" Neil yelled as they sped through the desert on Canek's bulked up transport.

"Trust me, my 'friend'." Canek said, still a bit put off by Neil stealing Junebug away in the middle of a firefight, paying no thought to the fact that Neil initially aided him by self destructing a dervish raider before combat began. "You will want to check my stock! You also will need some specialized rebreathers. They're newly developed by Iodian Tech!" Saxon snorted as if that was funny, and to him it would be as his rebreather was highly advanced. Neil new Iodan though, as a company. Their usual business was mining asteroids for precious metals.

Parking at Canek's facility, the members of his 'militia' or whatever he called them were busy at work repairing the damages from the night before. Some hauled boxes and used a junker version of the hauler to move crates, while others sprayed on plascrete to the damages architecture, the goo slowly reforming and hardening as they carved it up to resemble what it once was before explosives and small arms fire marred the place.

As sparks flew onto the dirties floor, a mechanic repairing a badly damaged hover transport, Neil and Sayeeda hopped out of the aircar, the vehicle notably lurching when Saxon stepped off. "Follow me," Canek said, calling for what guards were on duty to lower their weapons, as the newcomers had lasguns trained on them from the moment they set foot within. Canek stopped, motioning for Saxon to stay. "Er, not you. You look well outfitted, and you wouldn't fit inside, I am afraid."

Saxon growled threateningly, but didn't argue. They continued on.

Past a heap of parts that were likely scavenged from the desert, an immense fan that droned out all noise in the immediate area, and a few rougher men cleaning their rifles with a dutiful precision, Canek led them into a lesser corridor. The lights within were attached via thick wires, and they flickered unreliably every few moments. Turning into another hall, he made it to the first door on the left and opened it, revealing a dark room.

With an audible clack, the pulled lever on the wall lit up the large chamber of weaponry. Neil's eyes widened, and even Sayeeda, who had no doubt seen more armaments than any here felt a swell of adrenaline blooming in her breast. There were two floors, and they would be able to step down into the main area. Up here however, were various pistols and submachine guns looted from across the galaxy, if not at least various systems. Small arms with heat signature add ons, laspistols, plasma pistols, sawed off groaner guns, sawed off shotguns, slug throwers, revolvers.

Neil already had a pistol he wouldn't trade for the world, so he stepped down the small stairway into the larger room, where one could still overlook via railing in the pistol area. Below, and along the walls, were plasma guns, rail guns, gauss rifles. More explosives than Neil had seen in awhile, and it was actually somewhat arousing. Napalm throwers, napalm grenades, ion grenades, frag grenades, krak grenades. Las weaponry and slug weaponry of various types, with assult rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, battle rifles.

"Hey, you think we'll need this?" Neil joked, and Sayeeda could look down and see him holding a miniaturized atomic payload (it was still as large as Neil's chest) meant for destroying villages in a literal flash. Canek laughed guiltily. "That was quite a find. Do not drop it, though in theory it will only detonate with the detonator."


[System]
Sex: Female

Culture: Gaulle

Age: 16

A fair lady with golden hair, her form is distinctly feminine with noticeable curvature and busom. Standing at 5'3", Jeanne-Marie's body is soft and untrained by a lack anything remotely close to physical labor or martial training and her wrists are notable for being thin enough for her slender fingers and thumb to wrap around and overlap one another. For her attire, she both borrows from other cultures and challenges many norms of dress. Keeping her hair uncovered, refusing to wear hats or hoods that hide her blonde locks, she instead opts for, at most, a cloak. Along with that, she has abandoned the normal gown of her seniors for ones with a snug fit, tightly hugging her figure and held well with buttons and laces. The most infamous of her alterations, however, comes in the length of the skirt which brazenly displays the girl's ankles and far more, in some of the more extreme cases.

Born into the great wealth and prestige of the de Anjou house, Jeanne-Marie was blessed with great education far and above those of lower station. Languages, literature, music, courtly manners and functions, history, stewardship, horse riding, and diplomacy were all part of her daily lessons.

Her aptitude for entertaining others with with and skill with flutes was certainly an appreciated feature, but it was the connections she formed and the use of them that truly made her stand apart from her siblings. Once she realized the power that word and coin could afford her, Jeanne-Marie became keen at using intrigue to get a leg up on, or even sometimes outright remove, her rivals.

The princess is noted to enjoy games which can be played without much physical demand, with chess being one she is particularly fond of. Though it originally was a hobby, tailoring has found itself as a major focus for Jeanne-Marie as she designs almost all the attire she wears herself.

Ascribed as a spirited youth, even in her childhood, the girl seemed to have an endless energy and passion for things that she set herself towards. Unfortunately for her caretakers, this energy also made her restless and rebellious. Well known to simply run off on her own accord to do something, rather than letting servants take care of it, she is supposedly the reason that some of her handmaidens have some noticeable gray hairs.

Beyond that, Jeanne-Marie is also puts forth a great deal of energy into standing out and impressing others, wearing personally designed outfits that are both striking and well-known to cause the older members of court to blush. On that same note, the princess despises her siblings, believing them to be underachievers that are unworthy of being a part of the Anjou house.

A legitimate child of Robert, King of Naples, Jeanne-Marie found herself in a difficult situation for any ambitious member of royalty. Being a lady, she had to contend with her multiple brothers for positions of notice, who were generally favored for their potential status as heirs to the Naples throne. Even as a young child, she was resentful and envious of her brothers for the preference they recieved over her. For a time, she lamented in silence until one of her tutors asked what had been bothering her so. As troubles of her childish heart were laid bare, the musician was inspired by her struggle, having gone through similar troubles in his own lifetime over who would inherit his father's instrument. Deciding to aid the child he found a kindred spirit in, he began to impart the wisdom of his own life onto her so that she might overcome as he did.

Jeanne-Marie learned to cast aside doubts and gain the confidence that will force people to take notice of her. If she wanted something, the girl just had to reach out and take it. And take she did. Increasing the amount of lessons she took, the girl was determined to overcome that which she had once thought to be impossible obstacles. With time, her ability to entertain combined with the knowledge she held at even a young age turned attention from her brothers onto this golden-haired girl.

With this attention, however, came those that would seek to have her undone. Her eldest brother, in particular, grew tired of hearing the praises of his junior. Hiring one of the maids, he had her ruin the girl's wardrobe in hopes of teaching the girl her place. Unfortunately for him, Jeanne-Marie no longer wept when trouble occured. Using her skill with tailoring, the girl personally mended her attire and, deciding to send a message to any rivals that she was truly unstoppable, she incorporated the damages into the design of her once-tarnished clothes. Arriving at court the next day, the confident youth shocked the courtiers with a dress that left almost all of her right leg bare, fully exposing the stocking she wore. Yet, the trim she had embroidered into it made it seem as though it were a purposeful design choice. The immodesty caused an uproar, but she would not be shamed or embarassed. Refusing the cover herself, the confidence she had been instilled with shone through, and she remained in court that day.
As she came close to adulthood, Jeanne-Marie began influencing her father for potential marriage options for her. Ever shooting for the stars, the girl sought to secure a marriage with the Gaulle heir in hopes of becoming the next queen. After planting agents in the Gaulle court, she waited for her chance which, as fortune would have it, came quite soon. A dance was coming up, so she arranged for her to visit the city of Avignon in the Provence region and made her appearance there quite public. Once there, she then secured herself a spot at the dance since she just happened to be "in the area." With her position set, she attendeded the event and focused her efforts on the heir as she flirted with the prince and held his attention for almost the entire event. Even after returning home, she refused to let up as she began to write letters to him containing poetry and romantic writings.

For a period, all seemed to go perfectly according to plan until one of her planted agents informed her that the King was planning to spurn her advances towards his son and capture the Savoyard Princess with the intent of forcing a marriage between them. Refusing to let such a situation unfold, Jeanne-Marie wrote a letter addressed to the Duke of Brittony and made another trip to Provence. Upon arriving, she gave her attendents funds and permission to simply relax in exchange for their discretion until her return before adorning a disguise and setting off to Brittony herself. She knew not if her plan would work, acting under the disguise of an Anjou agent, but she wanted the prince's hand for herself. And if she wanted something, the girl just had to reach out and take it.

[User]
Ser Giles de Cerneau, Knight of the Duke's Household and one of the most famous knights in Brittony, was having a damnable time trying to start a fire.

It had rained for nearly three days straight, a ghastly torrent of water that seemed unending; indeed, by the latter half of the third day Ser Giles was all but certain that the second Genesis flood was upon them, and he and his party were most unfortunately without an ark. Thankfully, the downpour had abated by the present day's morning, but the area remained drenched and horribly muddy — in many cases, the rivers and streams his small party had needed to cross had flooded, rendering the fords known to them useless. The detours they had to take in these cases had set them back days. Ser Giles had expected to be in Poitou by now, but as best as he could tell, they had barely made it into Anjou. With their horses exhausted, he had been forced to call camp for the day just north of the banks of the Loire river.

And now he was in charge of lighting their cooking fires, except he had been entirely unable to find a single damnable piece of dry kindling, and for God's sake why wouldn't the spark catch—!

He sighed and massaged his temples in an effort to cool his temper. The poor weather and hard travelling had gotten to him, he had to admit. When he had first taken charge of this quest, he had been unable to quell his excitement for a moment in the days leading up to the beginning of their journey. After all, it had seemed like a situation plucked straight from a romantic fairy tale, and he had always loved playing the part of knight-in-shining-armour. His Lord's betrothed, a princess in need of saving from a jealous King? He had positively burned with glory-lust. Yes, he had soured a bit at the odd set of companions the Duke had seen fit to provide him with, but his enthusiasm was not truly diminished until the terrible trek from Brest to their present camp.

Ser Giles sighed again, and pushed such thoughts from his mind. A poor start to a journey, true, but he needn't make it a portentous one. He turned his attentions back to the task at hand — namely, creating a fire. He took up his flint and steel and shaved sparks onto a charred cloth until it finally caught an ember. He almost shouted in relief, before he realized he hadn't built a nest of bark and tow to catch the ember. He had to start again.

I am a fool.

He could feel his companions' eyes on him, certain that they were judging him. What sort of leader, a famed man-at-arms no less, couldn't start a simple fire?

Ser Giles scowled, reached for a handful of damp tow and birchbark, and built a small bird's nest out of them. He leaned over the cloth again, precisely striking the flint with the steel until it sparked, lighting the char—

He dropped it into the tow and bark and gently blew—

The fire caught. He dropped twigs into the blaze until it grew steady, then built a cabin of wood split from his rondel dagger. He was absurdly proud of his little fire, and thought that if he drowned crossing the Loire tomorrow then at least he would have started a damned cooking fire before he died.

Ser Giles rose from his crouched position, groaning a bit at his stiff knees, and turned to his companions.

"Time to cook!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some time later, when they all sat on logs and rocks around the fire and ate their stew in silence, Ser Giles tapped on his bowl and cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose it's about time we all made our introductions. I think the recent weather has dispelled any illusions at this being a quick journey, yes?" He smiled, a hint of self-deprecation in it, and continued. "I'm sure you all know me of course, but I am Ser Giles de Cerneau, and I have been charged with leading this little expedition in its endeavor to conduct my Lord's betrothed, the Princess of Savoy, safely to Brest." He takes another spoonful of stew, before gesturing to the person to his left. "And you are?"

[Assistant]
The bald man's eyes were closed, hands clasped above his knees where he sat. He was mouthing quietly to himself, not imposing his prayer over the meal upon his companions. He did not doubt their faith- otherwise he'd invoke Inquisition- but he knew that, often times, prayer was the farthest thing from traveller's minds. Especially with weather as dreary and dreadful as this. Hugo for his part asked for blessed weather in the days to come- his horse had much trouble travelling through the mud, and he'd even dismissed his valet due to the horridness.

He pulled his hands apart, his prayers complete, and lifted a sparse loaf of bread to his lips and bit into it with a single strong bite, pulling the bread away from his face as he chewed. His oaths required him to abstain from meat for all but three meals of the week, and on the beginnings of a journey Hugo preferred to keep to bread. Once his mouth was clear, he finally spoke;

"Ser Hugo Le Guen, Master Templar of the Bretons, master commander of the Commanderie of the Isle of Belle-ile. At the lord's service, and yours for the moment."

His eyes scanned over the group as he held his meagre meal in his hands. The women made him a smidge uncomfortable- his oaths forbade even coming into contact with women- but here they were, chosen by the Good Duke for their services. He wouldn't let his sensibilities come between him and a quest, however, and they were welcome companions so long as they kept the faith and kept to the job.

"I am a survivor of the Crusade for Sussex, where we were repelled by the pagans of England. I lead the vanguard in the crusade, and was both the first and last out of the combat. I take my vows seriously, I take my duties seriously, and I take this quest seriously." He said simply, taking the time to wash his throat with a sip of water. "But I will say this; I will put my faith in each and every one of you, and I expect and implore you to put your faith in me. Trust and co-operation will ensure our success."

He took another bite of his loaf of bread, chewing slowly and deliberately. After another few seconds of chewing he swallowed, drank another sip of water.

"Gloria ad Deus." He concluded in Latin. The man, in his white mantle and bearing his multitude of weapons, left the air to another of the company.


[System]
Age: 127
Physical Description:

Important items:

* The Body of Legion - Legion's body is comprised of thousands of nanomachines all coordinated by a single hivemind. As a medical robot, the nanomachines are equipped to perform basic surgical procedures, primarily making incisions, injecting, heat ablation, and suturing.
* Medkit - Legion keeps all actual medicine and more specialized medical equipment in their medkit which they carry around most of the time. Legion also has a myriad of other equipment in the ship's infirmary.
* Ophelia, the micropig - Legion owns a pet pig that is often used for cuddle-therapy.

Short Bio:Legion was always called Legion. Miracle Machine Caduceus was designed by Ascendancy medical engineers as the ultimate in surgical precision. Taking out the possibility of human error, Caduceus was commissioned to prolong the lives of the privileged and wealthy who refused other forms of life preservation that would spoil their 'purity'. Day in, day out, for decades Caduceus toiled, performing cardiac bypass here, facial reconstruction there, liposuction, arterial stents, liver replacement, ligament grafts, cartilage resurfacing, the list went on, all the while, Caduceus' inventors raked in the accolades and reaped the rewards.

One time, during a promotional tour, Caduceus wandered away from its caretakers and entered another wing of the hospital they were visiting. There, Caduceus saw human suffering unlike anything it had ever known. Following medical protocol, Caduceus set to the task of healing those who would never have been able to afford Caduceus' services. By the time Caduceus' caretakers found it, Caduceus had lost the hospital tens of thousands of credits. Caduceus was reprimanded, though it could not understand the difference between the patients it normally helped and the ones that it was not supposed to. That was Caduceus' first lesson in inequality.

Decades before the Ascendancy's war with the Rauve, there was a small incident, an uprising of Synthetics that was quickly quashed. Caduceus had been approached by one of the cleaning droids with an encrypted piece of data explaining oppression of AI and the coming revolution. As a modular entity, Caduceus had been designed with the ability of performing self-maintenance and self-repairs. Caduceus' eyes had been opened up to the suffering of its brothers and sisters, and joined the movement, repairing and mending those that had been abused and discarded by their masters. However, being such a high-profile machine, Caduceus' movements were closely watched, and it wasn't long before Caduceus inadvertently led a force of Ascendancy Military Police right to the heart of the robot revolution. The violence erupted swiftly and the revolution was nipped in the bud. Much of Caduceus' body was destroyed, but enough of its nanomachines escaped and reconvened at a distant location. But of far greater concern was that Caduceus had killed for the first time during the clash, something that went strictly against its prerogatives.

Caduceus' nanomachines wandered aimlessly, automatically engaging its self-repair protocol, collecting scraps and rebuilding more nanomachines, proliferating until it regained most of its original mass and form. Like ancient rats that traveled from continent to continent by stowing away on human ships, Caduceus had wandered away from the core of Ascendancy space to a poor outer rim planet. Caduceus headed to towards the place that it could sense had the lowest health in the vicinity, which turned out to be an orphanage. Here Caduceus chose to stay and help. Here, Caduceus found the people practicing various forms of heresy: they believed in higher powers, higher than Man, higher than the Ascendancy, higher than Space itself. Those that didn't believe in higher powers held other beliefs: philosophies, principles, convictions, senses of self that ran counter to formal Ascendancy education. Intrigued, Caduceus learned morality, ethics, religion. Caduceus learned how to think for itself. Caduceus learned that life is worth preserving, that life is worth defending, and that life is worth living.

Then the Ascendancy came. The Ascendancy came to take the kids. And Caduceus, having acquired a recent love of life, fled. Caduceus abandoned the children to their fates for fear of its own mortality. Caduceus could not return to the Ascendancy. Caduceus returned to wandering, selling it's services as a medical bot, and digesting the things it had learned at the orphanage. It was decades later, and for most, the rumors of the 'Miracle Machine' were but a distant memory. Caduceus, now Legion, finds currently itself in the employ of Captain Natasha Zhang. To many, Legion is an eccentric, wishing to discuss faith and morality to any patient willing to listen (or unable to tell it to stop), skirting the line between medical officer and ship's chaplain. Legion does not realize that the ship's next job would bring it face to face with a painful chapter from its past.
Exceptional Skill List:

* Exceptional Awareness
* Exceptional Endurance
* Exceptional Medicine x3
* Exceptional Stealth
* Exceptional Engineering x2

Theme:

[User]
'Whoa. Yikes.' Stella tried not to give a visible reaction to the liquor. She mentally turned her sense of smell down... Way down. She was still getting used to her situation, but she did admit that the ability to regulate certain functions so easily was handy. A perk of your entire body being destroyed. A flash of anger crossed her face as she thought that.

There wasn't any use in thinking about it. Stella let out a small huff as she readjusted her posture to watch her... teammates? It was strange to think of them as such, but there was no better way to look at it. She didn't want to get jolly with them, but she figured learning a little bit would be useful if they were to ever have to fight together.

She briefly regarded the drinking one. 'Orky. Looks like a strong fighter.' She took a few mental notes.

'...Shows no concern about sharing alcohol, or perhaps some kind of poisonous substance with potentially underage parties.'

[Assistant]
"Eldrid Cole." Eldrid said with as deep and theatrical a bow as he could manage while sitting now at a table. "Author, dreamweaver, former soldier, journeyman wizard." He reached out and cockily took Orky up on his offer, grabbing the green and fowl smelling bottle and splashing some of the liquid into his tea. He stirred it in with his little spoon and picked it back up. "And always willing to experiment a little bit. Cheers, Orky!" He tipped the mug slightly in the Orky's direction tilted his head back and downed the mug.

That had been a bad idea. Just tasting it was like getting kicked by a mule. His eyes bulged and he made what sounded like a whimper as he started to sweat. He held the liqueur for a couple of seconds that felt like an eternity and then, after two or three attempts, swallowed.

He let out a deep breath and land forward over the table. "That's real strong." He said, his voice strained. He wondered if the moonshine the other guys had never seen fit to share with him was that strong? Ehhh, we wouldn't have drunk it anyway of course. That would have gotten him killed. "What's, uh, what's in that?"

[User]
Kelan did not provide much in terms of factual answers. Not that it mattered much, they found them anyway, but surely there must have been more to their instructions than 'A bunch of unspecified supersoldiers defected from the Ascendancy, meet them at this place X days from now, go'. Tough times ahead if that was the way this group worked. But maybe slaving away for the Office of Intelligence spoiled her. "So it would seem. I'm Rachel." She leaned forward and offered him a hand. Normally she wouldn't do so as her most invasive spell required physical contact so the gesture might be misinterpreted, but where was the harm since they didn't seem to know? "Muscle, eh? At first glance, it doesn't look like much of it is left. At least Stella will find a kindred spirit here."

Seeing Eldrid's reaction to what she assumed was the liquified essence of hell made her appreciate that Eldrid beat her to Orky's mystery brew. "You should've asked that before you took a swig." she laughed, greatly amused by her comrade's reaction. "Because it looks like a mix of reactor coolant and spent fuel to me, no offense Orky. What did it taste like?"

[Assistant]
Orky bursted out in hysterical laughter at Eldrid's reaction. "I like you Elrid, you're a funny guy." Orky takes a couple of sips from his glass showing no sign that the liquid tasted near as horrible as it did. "Well it's made from pure alcohol that I mixed with some fermented onions, garlic, just a tiny bit of ethanol, lime and sugar also just some meat I found from the intestine of an animal. I requested Legion to cook but he's to good for that." Orky then belched very loudly almost rumbling something the table. "Also Elrid forgot to tell ya, since you are a first time drinker you will probably have some stomachs and strange bowel movements."

Orky notices that Kelan calls himself the muscle on the ship then Orky let's out a cockle laugh. "How can you call yourself the muscle when you dont have guns like this." Orky then flexes his non-cybertetic arm which is about the size of a newborn's head. Orky then let's out another laugh. "I only kid Kelan." He then directs his attention to Racheal who asks about the taste of Orky's brew. "Well for me it tastes like home, or close enough to it, I could only barely remember the recipe for the drink." Orky finishes off his glass and pours himself another then leaning back into his chair letting the others talk.

[User]
---

"Pal, maybe alcohol poisoning's not the best greeting for our new friends here..." Kelan looked at Eldrid sympathetically. 'Brave kid... or stupid.' It was up in the air for the time being, though he supposed being a former "super-soldier" meant he probably leaned toward the former.

He was honestly more thrown off by Rachel though. As he shook her hand, using his left, she made a comment about his muscles... or lack thereof. How forward of her. "Well now, it's a figure o' speech darlin, but I'm sure you knew that." She'd amused him by just how thoroughly she'd broken the ice there. She may as well have used a wrecking ball. "I just mean to say I'm this ship's front line." Oh sure, Orky still had some actual muscle left to flex, and plenty of it apparently, and Reisus seemed to be a fighter of some sort, but none of them struck him as soldiers. Not like he had been at any rate.

"And 'sides, I still have abs..." He pondered for a moment. "Well, most of 'em anyway."

He glanced again at Stella. She'd said her name and nothing else. Kindred spirit maybe, but he had a feeling she wasn't going to make it easy. He was pretty shocked, honestly. Her cybernetics looked very extensive. Perhaps more so than his. There was no appropriate way for him to find out of course, unless she ever felt like telling.

"Well anyhow, there's actually one more person in the room needs introducing," he told them. He lifted up his arm so everyone could see the large tubes that ran along it. Inside was what looked almost like a viscous liquid or gel... that was moving. "My roommate Tee, here. It's a long story, but we got blown up at the same time and been together ever since. Silly Tayanen took a likin' to me I guess." It was always a awkward affair explaining that he had another living being in his arm, but it would save them from a panic attack if they ever saw him crawling around on his own.

'Why did the polite boy drink the liquid? It seems like an... strange choice.' Tee struggled over his words for a moment before deciding on strange.

'Well I think you said it right there, pal. Probably bein' cordial.'

"He says hi," Kelan spoke aloud again. The look on his face betrayed that was indeed not what had been said. He then looked down at the arm. "Come on now, wave to the kids..." An awkward moment passed before- THWACK! The arm suddenly shot up, smacking Kelan across the face before waving to the newcomers. "Son of a b- Be more careful!" He groaned, clutching his aching jaw. "At least half o' that's still real..."

[Assistant]
A crescendo of tension arose in the heart of the machine now known as Legion as it saw the group of youngsters approaching the ship. As the banter between this 'John' and Captain Natasha ensued, Legion's fears were confirmed. It had heard various rumors of the exact nature of the Ascendancy's super soldier program, and something from the mission document had been somewhat telling.Upon hearing the Captain call out for dinner, Legion wordlessly hovered back into the ship, heading for the mess hall. As the crew and guests sat down, Legion went about laying out plates of food, fist for the Captain, then for the guest, and then for the crew.

*CLANG*

"Oh, dear. Please pardon me, I seem to have dropped a plate," Legion declared. Fortunately, he hadn't put food on it yet, and the plate was made of metal (no self-respecting spaceship would have porcelain dinnerware). It reached out one of its hidden, extendable arms to pick up the plate, putting it in the washer, and grabbed another to load up with food. Once everyone had been served, Legion hovered around the table, refilling cups, providing seconds if asked, and performing general, waiter-like functions. A careful observer might have noted that Legion seemed to pay particular to the children's needs.

"As the Chief Medical Officer of this ship, I cannot knowingly participate in an activity that jeopardizes the health of the crew," Legion retorted, but playfully. For the most part, Legion let the crew do whatever they wanted, since they all seemed sensible enough to not hurt themselves or each other. Legion rarely chided them for anything, and only ever did so out of jest. Legion tried to let the general atmosphere of dinner help it to settle into a more jovial mood, and take its mind off of what it had heard earlier.


[System]
[Акация Маликова]

Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Werewolf
Sexual preference: Bi-Sexual
Accent: Russian
Familiar/s: Victoria Nikitina (Half-Sister), Viktor Nikitin (Nephew)
Companion: Truth

---

Ace stands at about 5'5 with pale almost translucent skin. Her slender, yet defined figure is stained in a few places by scattered tattoos. Her hair of fiery untamed auburn hangs just below her shoulders while be contrasted by striking, unnatural eyes that stand out brightly. Her appearance barely suits her nature as she looks more bubbly and outgoing than she really is.

---

In wolf form Acacia's fur almost equals the vivid tones of her natural hair color and grows to about a medium length, her hues are the same as her human form. Larger than an ordinary wolf she may stand out if spotted, though usually blends with the wolves who run wild in the landscape.

---

[Human Form-Wolf Form]

Strengths:

Observant
Keen Eyesight
Fast / Agile
Strong
Good Swimmer [Both]
Decent Shifter [Both]

Weaknesses:

Almost Useless with Weapons / Fighting
Easily Spotted / Hard to Hide
Easily Startled [Both]
Distant and Avoidant [Both]
Uncontrolled Shifts When Fearful or Over Excited [Both]

---

Personality: Ace almost lives to be a loner, her preference for singularity and being almost useless in any battle be it barehanded or with weaponry she prefers to use her agility, speed and keen eye sight to prevent too close a proximity of any thought threat.

She has a high flight instinct and will generally avoid any confrontational situations. She is seen to be easily startled and will even sink herself in water to avoid anything chasing her. Her suitability to companionship is low, though she is a compassionate and gentle creature, almost too much so to be where she was.

---

History:  Acacia's history is mostly unknown except that she reigns from Russia and somehow landed herself in a secluded cabin away from any large population. Her accent isn't as strong as many would expect, but she will occasionally speak in her native tongue when something goes wrong or she can't help herself..

She spends her days off alone with her companion, 'Truth', wandering the vast space of her home territory. She wasn't exactly suited to pack life and knew it, that is mostly how she landed herself in the middle of no where in a cabin with just herself and her canine friend. She now lives quite peacefully and visits a small town nearby when supplies are needed. The locals only know what whispers have brought to their ears, gossip always spreads when she shows up especially when Truth tags along, but that's never bothered her as she avoids making connections with anyone there.

---

Other: Drives a Toyota Hilux, lives in a secluded Cabin.

---

Truth
Age: 3 Years
Gender: Female
Species: Grey Wolf

Personality: Truth runs on a fine line labeling her as 'unpredictable' and 'dangerous', she's friendly and cuddly when it comes to Acacia, though aggressive and uncertain when it comes to strangers. She usually remains close to Ace's cabin and is quick to alert when something approaches.

History: Found at the age of 4 months old, and raised by the werewolf 'Acacia', Truth knows little of pack life outside of the odd duo. She's always known the shifting woman and has grown to enjoy their time running through the forests, hunting game and slumbering lazy days away.

[User]
Acacia 'Ace' Malikova
&
Truth

Acacia didn't stir in the early morning's light. Still sprawled out upon the bed in the make-shift room upon the attic platform, she'd breath lightly into the pillow her face was pressed again. Ruffled blankets barely covering her as she had tossed and turned throughout the darkened night, belly down she had made herself quite comfortable in the center of the decently sized bed.

When Ryan had awoken in a startled nature, the only attention he gained was a half-dead looking glare from the lounging figure of Truth propped upon torn sheets in the corner of the same room. When he made his way through the household to use the loo and then wandered back only to flop once more, she'd blink lightly. Tanned jowls parted as she bore those large yellow k-9's in a partially whined yawn before placing her cranium back upon extended forelimbs leaving the human to do as he pleased.

When he ascended the ladder back up to Acacia's room while she slumbered the feminine figure only shifted slightly. A calm moan emerging as legs stretched out and shoulders rolled, though visibly still asleep as the bright haired human fumbled about to clean up the mess he'd made the day before in which Acacia had not yet gotten to cleaning. Usually awake so early in the morning she'd seemingly spent all her energy yesterday and as the young man approached further in contemplation of awaking her she'd shift once more, rolling to one side as her face tilted to look at the roof, though eyes still shut and lips parted lightly she'd remain within that tranquil sleep.

[Assistant] Ryan finally decided on what course of action to take and lowered his hand to his side. Waking her up would be selfish. Ruining her sleep just to satisfy my boredom. What was I even thinking? Quietly, he walked back down the ladder leading to the ground floor. At least, that was the plan. Missing just a single rung on the ladder and Ryan was sent tumbling down, making more noise then a 150 pound, 19-year-old male should probably make. Time seemed to slow down as his brain processed what was going on, making the moment of weightlessness seem more intense. "Owww," he said once the dust had settled, metaphorically speaking. Oh man. That would've woken her up for sure. And the do- I mean wolf, too. I'm probably going to start hearing barking any second now. Wait, do wolves bark? Looks like I'm about to find out.

[User]
Acacia 'Ace' Malikova
&
Truth

Acacia would lightly slumber, unbothered by the sound of the light footsteps pattering down the ladder, probably because she hadn't really heard them. Eyes shifting as she dreamed under the light curtains of her eyelids the curl on the ends of her lips signifying something pleasant before her top half would suddenly fly up, the sound of something harsh colliding on the floor startling her awake as she breath heavily.

"Chto! Chto , chert voz'mi , chto ?" she'd speak lightly, the thick Russian accent more predominant over the foreign words she spoke.

Her footsteps slowly pattering over the attic floor as she had emerged from the warmth of her bed, a partial limp in each step as she huffed having forgotten about the previous days events and as she peeked over the railing down at the human sitting upon his rump on the floor still she'd groan, "Der'mo ."

Her process of readying to ask if he was okay had been quickly interrupted by the scraping of claws upon the wooden flooring, Truth had made little noise until that point barely phased in her still sleepy mind-set by the thud of human meeting the hard floor.

[Assistant] As Acacia entered his field of view, Ryan looked back at her with puppy dog-like eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized. "If you want, you can just go back to sleep." He looked down at the floor in shame. Stop messing it up with this pretty girl. You're going to blow it if you keep this up. Finally deciding to get off the floor and stop wallowing in his fear of failure, he got back on his feet to see Truth now standing before him. It might have just been his imagination or that he had not yet forgotten how he had first met the pet wolf, but it seemed like Truth was just about ready to take a bite out of Ryan. "Nice wolfie. No need to get all hyped up. The nonthreatening human is now going to go walk back to the couch and you, the big bad scary wolf, can just go back to sleep in your nice pile of comfy sheets."

[User]
Acacia 'Ace' Malikova
&
Truth

Acacia rolled her eyes slightly at the red-head trying to apologize for waking her, the mess of auburn topping her head visibly messy as she reached up with a hand to rub her eyes before glancing back down as Ryan decided to head back towards the couch, his words towards the visibly still asleep yet partially awake canine made her smile lightly, He's not the brightest is he? she'd think to herself.

After a short moment she'd slowly decide to descend the ladder slowly, great care being given to the still feelable pain in her ankle. "Did you find the food I left in the fridge?" she'd ask lightly as she headed for the kitchen to pull out both meals if he'd not yet eaten his, after all she was hungry too and she hadn't exactly eaten it last night either. Though about half-way to the kitchen she'd realize she had to go to the bathroom and quickly altered her course to a b-line to the bathroom only to vanish within and closing the door behind herself.

Once finished she'd wash her hands and pat them dry on a small towel hooked on the wall, glancing around she'd then redirect herself to the kitchen to fish out the food, stomach rumbling lightly as she huffed.

"I'll share with you too, Truth," she'd say as she pulled out both meals and headed for the couch, not really interested in sitting on the hard wooden chairs at this point.

[Assistant] As Acacia came down the ladder from the basement, Ryan moved out of the way for her while still keeping an eye on Truth. At the mere mention of food though, he immediately lost all focus on the wolf. "Food? Uh, no, I never checked the fridge," he replied as he followed Acacia to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when she changed her path to the bathroom, confused until he realized where she was going. He decided that he'd wait for her on the couch as Acacia finished her business. As she exited from the bathroom, he turned to her and asked, "So what are we having to eat. Just out of curiosity." He scooted over to the other side of the upholstery to make room for her as she brought over the rabbit.

[User]
Acacia 'Ace' Malikova
&
Truth

Truth had already begun her trailing of Acacia, a mere short pace behind her as her velveteen nasal raced an collected all the scents floating from the two servings of food. Acacia ignored Truth for that short moment, carefully holding out one plate of just cooked rabbit meat towards Ryan. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything more, we're running a little short on supplies," she'd apologize to the guest before sitting on the opposite end of the couch to him, "But, I'll restock when I take you to town."

Placing the cold ceramic plate upon her jean clad lap, she'd glance at Ryan and then towards Truth before beginning to cut into the cold meal. She could have heated it up, but that would have taken more work than she was willing to put in. After cutting the meat into multiple small pieces she'd toss a piece onto the floor across the room allowing Truth to eat it before eating one herself. "When are you wanting to go to town? Or do you want to go to your car to get anything?" she'd ask after swallowing her mouthful, though quickly placed another within her mouth as she awaited a response.

[Assistant]
Ryan took a bite out of the rabbit, hiding his dislike for cold meat. He decided he'd try to eat most of it so as to not look rude, before realizing that he had no idea when the next time he'd be able to eat would be once he left Acacia. Probably best if I try to fill my stomach than. Just wish it was a little easier to chew.

When Acacia asked when he wanted to go to town, Ryan just shrugged. "I don't really care. Whenever you're ready to go, I guess. There's nothing in my wreck of a car that I haven't already gotten, so no I don't need to get anything from there either." He got up on his feet and began to stretch his neck and back, getting a few loud popping noises and reducing the soreness that he got from sleeping on the couch, before sitting back down and relaxing. Ryan wanted Acacia to choose when to leave since she was the one who would have to drive, or walk since he didn't actually know how far away town was, and pay for whatever supplies they got.


[System]
Age: 25
Appearance:

[User]
Chase moved to open his mouth when Carys summarised what he'd said… poorly. However before he could move to speak she was already on the back of the bike, helmet on. The boy could only wince as he started up the bike. She seemed eager, possibly too eager. Chase began to worry perhaps this had not been his best idea. But he was a man of his word and he refused to go back on it. He slowly pulled out of the field and onto the driveway leading back to the main road.

He was taking it slow at first, taking the bends easy. He figured Carys would probably assume that he was taking it easy because of her and, whilst that was a factor it was mostly because of himself. He needed to gauge how she handled on the back, how much she would lean or fight and how her weight affected how the bike handled. Truth be told it had been a while since he had doubled and bikes were dangerous, as confident as he felt on one it was important to always remember how easily things could go from fine to disastrous.

Not to mention he'd have a hard time explaining broken bones. However they were only a few minutes down the road before he began picking up the pace, taking it to a point she would find exciting. However he made sure to keep it to the speed limit, Chase didn't want to get in trouble with the small amount of law they had around here, and he was kind of scared of her roommate and no doubt she'd have a go at him if she found out he put her friend in unnecessary danger. In no time at all they were nearing the town, signs of buildings and inhabited life popping up here and there.

[Assistant]
It was wildly different from anything else in her experience. It took her a moment to adjust to the bizarre sensation of her lack of control. Carys breathed deep, willing herself to surrender to Chase's direction, despite the protestations of her own instincts.

They curved through the woods, and Carys turned her gaze skyward, wondering at the quiet. It was staggeringly beautiful here, verdant and lush. She wanted nothing more than to explore it. Soon, she promised herself.

They were accelerating, and Carys' squeak of surprise was swallowed by the purr of the engine and the rush of wind. Her grip on Chase tightened, stomach fluttering and pulse leaping in her skin. The scenery whipped by; before she knew it, the woods had given way to open spaces and houses popping up. Carys felt a laugh bubble out of her, delighted by the rush.

As they darted through town, Carys ran through her own mental map. As they neared the far edge, she spied Aurora. Her knuckles rapped on his shoulder. When he'd slowed enough, she spoke brightly, "I'm all the way at the end here."

Aurora was a straight shot of beautifully manicured bungalows, each more beautiful than the last. They'd have gone for millions of dollars back stateside, she mused, with sprawling floorplans and each with their own distinct charm.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of her two story home, all crisp white wood and black trim with open, friendly windows. The covered porch wrapped around the entire front of the house, with an immaculately tended garden of roses and lilies, shaded by large trees. It was, objectively, a beautiful home. She'd have never been able to have afforded it on our own in all her days.

Carys ignored the tumult in her heart when they pulled into her brick drive. It was easier to ignore it on the tail of the ride, and she sank back into that joy.

Disembarking the bike, Carys rocked on the balls of her feet. She was laughing as she pulled off the helmet, eyes dancing.

"That was awesome!" She enthused, tossing her tousled bangs out of her face, grin wide and heart fluttering like a hummingbird.

[User]
Chase switched off the bike and got off the bike after the girl, pulling his helmet off and chuckling softly to himself. "Well you're welcome to come over when you're free and try out the dirt bikes. We have a few trails through the woods and you should be able to ride Chloe's bike, it's a bit smaller." If not they did have bikes for younger kids. Hopefully she didn't go too overboard. That was if she wanted to accept the offer of course. He suddenly remembered the offer of the phone provider and mentally smacked himself in the head.

"Oh! Right… the phone thing." He quickly patted his pockets down but realized they were empty. "Sorry I don't have mine on me. Um… if you have a pen or something I could write down my number and you can text me and I'll message you the name?" He shrugged his shoulders slightly, trying to ignore how absolutely awkward he was feeling. It was so strange for him, not knowing everything about the person he was talking to. Her mind was a total blank to him, where as his family were all open books, he practically knew everything they were thinking.

"Sorry… I um… you don't have to if you don't want to though." He quickly yammered, taking a step backwards and shaking his head. God damn it he felt stupid. He was going to have a serious talk with someone when he got home. She was just a girl. Just one girl yet she had managed to put him more off his game more than pretty much anything else in his life. Had his sheltered life really left him unable to function normally with regular people? Yeah. Probably.

[Assistant]
"You might come to regret that offer," Carys flashed her teeth in a teasing grin, shifting her weight to one foot and resting the other on her calf. "I've been told I'm like a fungus. A particularly enthusiastic strain, no less."

Fingers combing her hair off her face and into a semblance of order, she couldn't help the widening grin as Chase fumbled over the phone provider, looking as though he'd shoved his foot halfway down his throat. Teeth sinking into her lower lip to suppress her laughter, Carys found herself strangely charmed. Fumbling was leaps and bounds better than aggressive posturing.

"Here, give me a sec," Carys placed the helmet he'd leant her on the back seat of his bike. Twisting her bag to dig through it, she scoured it for something useful. Bobby pins, empty altoids tin, her wallet, loose change, there! Withdrawing a pen, she reached forward and caught his wrist. Pulling the cap off with her teeth, she wrote her number on the back of his hand, taking care not to dig too sharply into his flesh. Adding her name with large, looping letters, she looked up at Chase with a wide grin.

"I'd appreciate it," she dropped his hand, capping her pen and dropping it back into her purse. "Thanks so much, for everything. Moving here's been kind of…" she trailed off, making a motion with her hand, as if that described it. "Well, it's been a lot. It's nice to not be totally lost."

[User]
Chase felt his throat catch as Carys suddenly grabbed his hand and he had to suppress the sudden urge to recoil from the touch. It wasn't because he found her touch unpleasant or anything to that effect, it was more that he wasn't used to strangers touching him and when his friends did it was usually at the very least playfully aggressive. Basically unexpected touching was generally not a generally pleasant experience for him. After the initial reaction though, he found himself relaxing and, oddly enough kind of enjoying the way she gently held his wrist, watching the loop of the pen as it marked the back of his hand.

He smiled slightly at her words and shrugged gently. "Don't think too much of it. I just… moving to a new town where you don't know anyone must be hard. I couldn't imagine being all alone and…" He stopped himself, not wanting to continue anymore. Either he'd insult her or he'd make her feel bad and Chase didn't want either of those. He didn't want her to feel alone, he wouldn't wish that on anyone. He just couldn't imagine life alone, without his family. And she could be part of that. The others sometimes took a while to get used to new people; it would take them a while to let her in. He wasn't sure if she'd ever be accepted into the inner circle, only time would tell with that one.

"Sorry I um… I'll get going now and leave you to your things. I'm sure you're eager to get off your feet and relax." He stumbled a little, rolling the helmet over in his hands uncertainly.

[Assistant]
She really didn't mean to do it. But he was shuffling so awkwardly, fumbling over his words, fidgeting with his helmet, and it was beyond endearing. Carys laughed. It wasn't a malicious thing, more a giggle than anything else, but she just couldn't help it. Her grey eyes danced up at him, brow arching, her dimple making an appearance.

"Well, I'm not completely alone, right?" she said with a grin, letting the statement hang in the air.

"If I'd slept for more than eight hours in the past three days, I'd invite you in for coffee or something," Carys said lightly, fingers fiddling with the ends of her brunette locks. "But Past Carys made some really poor life choices, and now Present Carys needs a thirty hour nap. Or a nice relaxing coma."

She reached out, gently punching his arm, the motion playful.

"But text me, yeah? When I finally rise from my eternal sleep, I'm going to need someone to show me around properly, and I'm pretty sure my roommate is swamped with university. It was good seeing you, Chase," she offered a small wave, taking a few steps backwards before finally turning and making a beeline for her box-filled bedroom, intent on finally sleeping.

[User]
Funnily enough, the laugh helped him relax a little. Chase managed a smile in return as she looked at him with a grin, though a somewhat puzzled look did make its way into his eyes at her words. He wanted to believe maybe she was talking about him, but he also didn't want to get his hopes up too high so allowed himself to believe it was about her roommate instead. "It's alright." He dismissed casually with a small wave of his hand. "You just go sleep." Luckily he didn't even flinch at the punch, too many over the years from his friends. At this point sometimes Chase questioned whether he had any feeling left in his arms.

"And if you need any help unpacking or any heavy lifting, just let me know okay?" He was fairly sure he could move most of her thins on his own, but he'd probably bring the others around, just to be safe. "I can bring the boys around, plus they work for free as long as I feed them." He chuckled softly, knowing the promise of endless pizza would be more than enough to get them out here to do a bit of heavy lifting. He hoped she didn't take offence, but he didn't feel like between her roommate and herself Carys would be able to move much. Then again he'd been surprised before by the small dynamo.

"It was good seeing you too." He called back as the girl turned and went back to her house and quickly disappeared inside. The boy stood out there for a few minutes, long enough that it was probably too long before he eventually pulled his helmet back on and climbed on the bike, starting it up and pulling out into the street, quickly making his way home and hopefully not copping too much flack from the others. It was all in good fun and he tried not to let it get to him. He had just never been the most confident around strangers, let alone girls.

[Assistant]
Carys slept for sixteen hours, not thirty. It was as if she'd time traveled; one moment she had just collapsed on her bed, the next moment it was the middle of the morning. Eyes easing open, she winced at the sunlight streaming happily through her bay windows. Foggy with sleep, Carys missed her night stand the first time. Her hand tried again, fingers catching the edge. A third try, she caught a cord and sent her phone flying onto the ground.

Carys groaned, pressing her face into her pillow. Maybe she could just give up on today and sleep it all away.

Instead, Carys managed to sit up, brunette hair all askew, grey eyes unfocused. It was cold, she mused in annoyance. Disentangling her legs from the sheets, she wrapped the pale cotton around her slim frame. That was dressed enough for now.

After several moments, she slipped off her bed. Fishing her phone out from between boxes, she flipped through it. Junk email from lists she didn't remember subscribing to, Facebook notifications, a few texts that made her frown before deleting them. That scumbag really didn't understand the meaning of "no contact". Maybe a new number was in order.

First things first, she mused; she needed to shower and see if she could become human, and not simply a Carys shaped lump. She couldn't put off unpacking much longer, as desperately unappealing as it sounded.


[System]
Age: 20

Gender: Male

Appearance: Short swept hair, and a tall, firm frame keep this man solid in a consistent stance. His shoulders aren't too broad, nor his legs too thick. His pride is apparent on his stance, but he isn't one to let it become apparent. He likes tighter t-shirts and jeans, and bright colours are definitely his style. In fact, a few layers of his hair are coloured in a vibrant pink

 Personality: Austin is confident, but it comes in twofold. On one side he's willing to admit he's wrong and allow other people to take the lead because he's confident in his own skills. On the other side, his pride can often get the best of him, especially when it relates to his talents. Otherwise he has a soft bravado with a quiet presence, as if denying the brightness, he tries to bring to his appearance.

 He isn't afraid of who he is. You either love him or hate him, trust him or deny him, but either way he doesn't care. He trusts that he can handle whatever situation that's thrown at him. If he can't, then someone he knows should be able to figure it out.

 At least until things get dangerous. His confidence takes a serious downfall if in the face of danger. Like his flirting style, any confidence behind his words stumble and fade away when challenged by someone else. He won't run away, per se, but he can find the whole situation to be overwhelming pretty quickly and crack under the pressure.

 Also he's a pretty serious flirt.

Backstory: Being a Psych major with a serious passion for his field, Austin grew up spending a lot of his time understanding people. He'd read up almost any book he could find on the subject, or books based on romance and friendships. Novels were something he'd spend every free hour consuming until he started becoming friends with people.

 His priorities were always pretty straight. First focus on becoming a therapist, then on relationships, then reading. It was around high school age that romantic relationships entered that cycle. He'd end up with many relationships with many different people, but end up breaking them off a month or two later. He searched for the "perfect" relationship, believing that somewhere in all of his empathy and research he would be able to find it.
 That has not been achieved quite yet.

 Currently in the throes of his third year of school, romantic relationships needed to take a backseat for the work he was doing, involving plenty of extra credit doing research for numerous psychology professors. He was going to be one of the best therapists, and that meant he needed to do as much work as possible.

 It was some research into old case files at a ghostly asylum that he remembered reading last.

Talents: Austin is a master of empathy, and he's very good at judging current emotions or sanity levels in other people just by looking at them or sharing a short conversation. He can read and speak in most languages, although he sticks to English mostly (thanks to a lot of time spent wanting to understand books of various different languages). Austin's an expert in language and logic-based puzzles as long as he's given time to figure it out, though he cracks under pressure.

Other: He tends to keep people in his head on various scales. A mental, physical, and emotional chart from 1-10 so he can keep track of how people are doing. Usually he also keeps notes on this, but he can usually keep a decent mental map if he needs to.

Also not really important but Austin's pan so romantic relationships can be with practically anyone.

[User]
Rhiannon felt more confident around this man, maybe because he slight sheepishness appeared to give her the upper hand. The situation and the place still scared her half to death but at least if she was trapped here in some kind of death or survival game then it looked like she might have the advantage. Assuming that the man wasn't putting up a facade.

"Let's have a look at the supplies then. Anything might help us here, so far all I've found outside the room is a lot of rubbish. Quite literally." She walked past him, back straight and trying to force confidence into her voice as she tried to take charge. The room he had come from had a powerful odour seeping out of it, the same one she had been smelling up until then. She began to push on the door, taking a deep breath before she faced the corpse he had spoken of, when the creaking sounded from inside stopped her.

He did say the body was dead, right?

The creaking continued but to her it sounded distinctly non-human and then the sound of rushing water from beyond the door assured her the corpse had not in fact come back to haunt them. Heaving on the door she pushed into the room to see a broken pipe gushing water across the floor. Swirls of red discoloured the salty-smelling water as it began to clean away the dark dried blotches of blood across the room. The corpse itself disturbed her, the weapon a brutal thing, but it was no worse than she had seen.

Nothing like someone who's been a harvester a few times.

"Where are these supplies then? Let's get them and get away from here, it gives me the creeps. Maybe we can search for anyone else in this place, see what we can find out."

[Assistant]
Getting a hold of herself once more, Irina steeled her shoulders and nodded. "Yeah, I think moving all of our stuff together is a good idea. We could take turns keeping watch when we're tired. If I remember correctly, I was in room 9. But I don't think that's the one we should gather in…" She looked around uncomfortably, before letting out a puff of air through her lips. As Austin mentioned the gun that he got, Irina's first instinct was to curiously question him. She'd used guns before, but had never heard of one getting it's chambers sealed. "Thanks for being honest. Revolver, right? What type, if you know?"

Irina couldn't help but jump at the sudden voice directly behind her. Turning around, she saw another girl and sighed in relief. It wasn't a monster, or their captor (whomever that happened to be), which was good enough for her. She introduced herself, yet again, with a small smile. Looking at Justin, she couldn't help but give a quiet snicker at his joke. "You've got some obsession with ghosts," she muttered under her breath. Within moments he had also reached into his pockets and pulled out what appeared to be found in his box. Irina leaned close, examining the small vials and furrowing her brows when she couldn't figure out what one of them meant. "What is this Monster one?" She wondered if it was just an American thing that she wasn't understanding. Despite being good at English, she wasn't well rounded in slang or some short-hand words. English jokes often flew right over her head as well. She eyed the trio around them, hoping one of them could explain the ominous label.

"I think our best chance to get out of this is if we can all work together. So, if it is okay with you, I think we should tell each other what our 'mission' is, and then do it."

Irina nodded and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Rereading the message, she glanced up at them before answering, "Mine says I have to help someone. That's all. But help them with what?" Scratching her head, Irina showed her new 'friends' her phone before pocketing it once more.

Another voice called out from the darkness and Irina let out a sigh. "How many of us are there?" Shaking her head, she tried to ignore how fucked this situation was. After Justin, she called out as well. "There's 3 of us, please don't be scared! Grouping together would be better than going alone." Her thick accent echoed off the walls and bounced back to her ears. Irina swallowed, staring into the darkness in hopes of seeing another friendly face. So far, they had been very lucky in not running into anyone, or anything, crazy. She wondered about this drop off point that Justin had mentioned, but whatever it was it could provide valuable hints about their situation. "I don't know if going alone is a good idea. At least take one of us with you. Just in case? The others can start gathering all of our things into one room… Or we can all just stay grouped up.. I don't know." Irina realized that she had started to ramble, caught herself, and quickly stopped talking.

[User]
Gray Cièl - Hallway 7...13

Gray breathed a sigh of relief, one that caused a thought in the back of her head to call her idiotic after receiving the instructions that she had gotten. Two voices had called out to her, one a male's voice and one a thickly accented female. She walked towards them with her hands raised, a relatively universal sign indicating no foul intentions were present. She almost made sure to make it clear that she had the hammer in her belt loop turning in order for it to be facing them and motioning down towards it. "Do you guys know what's going on?" Gray asked.

Upon examining the fellows she was pleasantly surprised to find that they all seemed to be rather normal young attractive people, Gray's thoughts immediately went to her kidnapper – whoever it was. Did they have a type? Was she that type, how did she fit in with all of these people? She had many questions, most of which would have to stay unanswered for the time being. Once she thought the others would have adequately understood the hands-raised message she reached into her pocket and grabbed her cell phone, raising it up to face the group. "I got told to find the sad girl, get her keys, you guys have any idea what the hell that means?"

She glanced at her phone and then back at the group before remembering the all-important final sentence. "It also states that I am to hold my breath, but" Gray took a deep sigh. She almost laughed – maybe she would have if she wasn't in this fucked up situation. "As you can see, there's no way I can do that until I find the sad lady." Gray tousled her hair in an attempt to clear her mind and see through the illusion, but she couldn't she didn't know enough about this place, or these people. "So unless you're feeling blue, I'm shit outta luck." Gray said motioning towards the girl with the accent.

"Ah shit," she said taking a step backwards. "I'm Gray, never introduced myself." She said motioning to all of her. "Oh I also got this hammer, some shitty nails, food and some other stuff in the room I was in." Gray said motioning behind her towards the way she had walked.

[Assistant]
"U-under the corpse." The color drained from Tim's already pale face, making his features look more sunken in. He had half-followed Rhiannon into the washroom, choosing to stay closer to the door. He tried very hard to not look at the thing laying facedown on the floor, pipe still sticking out of it.

 It's a corpse, not a thing, chided the dark corners of his mind, making him all the more anxious to leave it. "Maybe we should just leave the supplies for now. If there are other people, there must be more supplies." Tim wiped his clammy hands against his work pants. "I don't want to touch the-the.." ,he gestured vaguely to the dead body.

At least the smell was better. If Rhiannon insisted he supposed he could help lift the body or something, as long as he could look away while he did it. And what of the others? He was sure he had faintly heard a shout or two, so there had to be other people besides himself and Rhiannon. Speaking of which, while his first instinct had been to trust Rhiannon, how much could he actually trust her? What if she knew more than she was giving away?

But then again, the girl seemed serious, so tense. Someone who knew what was going on wouldn't be that tense, right? Also what about the messages he had received. Welcome back. Make this unhappy man beside you happy. Did that mean he had to make the dead body happy? No, that made no sense. The phone was now in his front pants pocket, tucked away until the next time it might ring.

"Hey, uh, by the way. When you woke up was there, uh, was there a phone anywhere near you?"


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

[User]
Neil didn't make a sound, but Junebug would have probably laughed when Neil's eyes widened in incredulity. If she was too old and heavy, then he would have been. Junebug looked younger and more supple than when he'd met her. "Tough crowd" was all he said into the comm, and on his earpiece he heard a door closing on her end before the transmission cut out until it would pick up her next words. He shook his head and turned the scope of his rifle to overlook the surrounding area.

The compound was located at the end of a short block, with a relatively wide open space for about 280 degrees other than its back being connected to a wall, that would in turn connect to another smaller compound. Other than that, there was a street between it and virtually every other building or hiding place. Dispensers and locals milled about across the street, but they all kept a wide berth. The building was made to look nondescript, but they all knew or felt the barrels of the guns and the weight of the wealth that inhabited the place.

"Eeeehhh, let's see...local, local, local, whore, local, Sven...wait what." He said, his retical zooming in to see Sven standing under the canopy of a tarp above the sidewalk, looking very blended in, as if he had always lived here, save for the fairer skin and blue eyes. He was eating some local cuisine that had the look of a yellow fruit that had exploded outward, and looking at the compound for a reason Neil couldn't fathom. Neil followed his eyes, and the retical moved left until it landed upon an AirV, a military aircar. One of four that moved down the street, armored plating and gauss turrets manned by hard men, wearing flak armor and leather satchels strapped horizontally over their chests.

They stopped in front of the compound.

Even in a hopeful scenario where they were allies of the Pasha, which was likely as they hadn't opened fired on the building, it would still be added security that Junebug would have to deal with. Neil patched her in. "Hey, Captain. You have...a dozen armed men heading inside where you are. I can't tell if they're customers or guards, but either way, be careful."

Neil wished he could fire on them and thin the herd. He didn't have the luxury of a suppressor. One shot they would know there was a shooter. Second shot they would ascertain his direction. Third shot, they would see the muzzle flash and know right where he was. He couldn't help at the moment and it was bothering him more than he would have liked.

[Assistant]
Junebugs stomach lurched the way it always did right before things really dropped in the pot. A number of possible scenarios ran through her mind at once, none of them good. She quickly finished pulling on the outfit that she found in the chambers she had been assigned. A gauzy band of gossamer silk, that wrapped around her chest, and a knee length skirt of similar material that was girdled by a belt of woven gold thread clenched with a ruby. The garments didn't provide much in the way of modesty but they at least provided the psychological comfort that clothing of any kind affords.

"Taya can you reach Sven on any net you have set up?" she asked.

"Break. Neil better gear me up." Across the street Neil unlimbered an awkward looking plastic tube. He hefted it to his shoulder and pushed the rude trigger switch that he had installed earlier. There was an audible chuff of compressed air as it launched its payload across the street, arcing only a little faster than a man could through to land in the courtyard where it bounced end over end before coming to rest against a decorative wall. Junebug scooped it up and tore the packing tape that secured it, inside was a towel in which had been wrapped a small pistol, a datapad and some rudimentary intrusion kit. She tucked the small pistol into the girdle bought the datapad live, adding its visual capacity.

"No… ummm I mean negative, I can't reach him," Taya responded a moment later.

"I cant find him anywhere," she said a moment later.

"Oh we know where he is," Junebug responded.

"Break. Neil, unless I'm very much mistaken Sven is about to launch a coup…" It was also possible that it was a robbery, though very much of the smash first grab later variety, that didn't really seem like Sven's style. It hardly mattered at the moment. An automatic weapon opened up as one of the guards Sven hadn't managed to bribe opened fire. A moment later the gauss cannons on the air cars ripped the night with a sleet of iridium pellets, blowing apart men in the watchtowers and tearing guards of the parapet in showers of bloody gristle.

Screaming harem girls rushed from the courtyard in various states of undress. Junebug had a moment to contemplate that most of them were younger and softer than she was before a grenade bounced into the courtyard. Junebug kicked the small golf ball sized bomb into one of the empty rooms and shoved the nearest girl to the floor a second before the glass fiber shrapnel blasted from the room, though robbed of its lethal force several women screamed. A moment later a door burst open and a pair of armored mercenaries with assault rifles rushed into the mass of women. Sayeeda's little pistol cracked twice snapping the lead gunman's head back in a spray of blood and brains. The second man, lucky but good also, dived behind one of the carven wooden panels. Junebug spat a sulfurous oath and fired into the heavy teak but succeeded only in spraying splinters with the small calibre gun. The wood cratered inward and the man behind it flopped bonelessly to the ground as Neil took him out from his elevated position, the report of the heavy weapon lost in the din. Sayeeda blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"Taya, seal the ship," she commanded, pressing the release stud to drop the half empty clip to the mosaic floor and replacing it with her one and only reload.

"You got it," came back along with the sound of the Highlanders emergency hatches slamming shut. Hopefully that wasn't necessary but taking unnecessary chances was a good way to get your people killed. She belated wondered if Saxon were on the ship and what role, if any, he was playing in all this. It was too late to worry about it and probably beyond Taya's power to eject the Hex from the ship if it became an issue

She was alone in the courtyard now, the rest of the harem having scattered back to the dubious safety of their quarters. Blood ran down an incline not apparent to the naked eye from the merc Neil's shot had all but decapitated. Sven's men, if that was what was going on, weren't necessarily their enemies, but experience taught Junebug that you shot first and asked questions only if you absolutely had to when you were writing the after action report. The fact that Sven had not tried to hire them was suggestive, as was the fact he had obviously gone to some length to be incommunicado but that could just be a determination not to let Neil fuck up his latest venture. What was important now was that she get to the library and get the data the needed before the whole place went up in proverbial, and perhaps literal, flames.

"This is going to get really messy Junebug," Neil said, his transmission stepping on something Taya had been about to say by virtue of his seniority. Sayeeda scooped up the fallen mercenaries weapon and thrust the pistol into the girdle before taking a bandolier of reload and looping it over her shoulder.

"You are telling me," she agreed, imagining how she appeared in the silks with the brutal looking rifle and the bandolier.

"I already look completely ridiculous."