[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Faunus (Cat)

Weapon:

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

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

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

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

Colour: Sunrise orange  (Colourcode: F02100)

Emblem: A whirlwind of orange swords

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

[User]
Gren Orchid

Gren spent the ride back in silence. Even when Shiro asked him his question, Gren said nothing. All he did was nod as a confirmation that he wouldn't say a thing. It's not as though Shiro was as subtle (Or willing to be subtle) as Gren was when it came to secrets. Speaking of secrets, what Gren was doing now was messaging his White Fang contacts through his wifi. He didn't blatantly just go to any old member tell him everything he wanted to say. No, he needed to be secretive, able to hide from the cyber police who would monitor him. And what a better way to be secretive than to be acting? Gren was on a roleplaying web site called "RPGuild", where he PM'd a few of his buddies about an upcoming side plot involving the capture of a pop singer. He named the location and a vague strategy of how to capture the sing he called "Bait-and-switch". A link was provided. He intended to take the pop star as she was a particular fan of Gren's character, also for her own safety after he uncovers a much more sinister plot worse than his fanboyism.

At some point Gren actually forgot that he was sending a secret message to his White Fang associates and actually went into great detail about his side plot. By the time the team arrived back to Beacon Gren was still elaborating on his side-plot-turned-into-a-big-mess with his GM. There Vale Authorities were already there to take in the Pops and the others for questioning. Pop's trial was going to take some time, but eventually he'll mysteriously "Disappear" in the hands of the White Fang. Now it was up to them to take care of it, though tomorrow he'll head to Pop's computer to take the research and ensure no one else steals the information but him.

As the team left the ship Shiro mentioned that he was going to stay back, seemingly to maintenance his weapon. It struck it odd to Gren that Shiro would want to do that here instead of say, back at the dorm or in one of the weapon shops. Gren figured that Shiro just didn't want to get in Sapphire's way however; it was likely that she too was going to head either to her room or to one of the workshops to either rest or make herself new weapons, respectively. Seeing that he had very little to do himself, Gren stepped up to his leader. "You'll be needing a weapon before tomorrow. Preferably something you're comfortable with. Do you need any help from me, Sapphire?"

Caravan Mission

The truck drivers remained inside the truck, though they did shout out to Oswald that they had some heavy duty chains in a container on the underside of the truck. If he looked for a few minute he'd find a plastic container with chains, hooks, and other gadgets that would be useful for hauling vehicles, or in this instance flipping it back on it's wheels. There were a few hook holds on the top of the truck they could attach hooks to, though it would require some acrobatics to climb up to them even with the truck on it's side.

Meanwhile back at the camp, the remaining schnee guardsmen took the opportunity to set up a kill zone in front of the mine. Specifically, it looked like they were ready to shoot anything that came out of the mine. There was only seven of them left, only two of them who were suffering from some sort of injury. The eldest one, the one that Diamond and Oswald spoke to, ordered the younger guardsman to get Team MODA. Their problems, as well as their mission, wasn't over yet.

Patrol Mission

The girl's intent to flood the streets started to break apart when Skyra first uprooted the girl's anchor, causing the anchor girl to get caught in her own rough torrent. She aligned herself quickly, but not quickly enough before she realized she was surrounded by Ebon's R-types. She pulled her anchors close to her to shield herself, but she couldn't shield every part of her. The lasers ripped through the water and into the girl. But before her Aura gave out, the water dropped, and the anchor girl was gone.

"That was a nice fight. But I have to ask; what exactly are you fighting for?"

The voice came from one of the women from anchor girl's gang. Anchor girl herself was in the arms of the tiger faunas, looking rather worse-for-wear but alive. The woman who speak was the one with gradient blond/purple hair. She wore sunglasses and was the second tallest in the group. She seemed to be the leader. The entire group had the literal high ground as most were standing on the roof of the various shops and vendors. One of the girls were missing.

At the Land of Walt the line for the Ursa Hammer game was getting short, so one of the carnies called out to Krysthane. "Hey pretty lady! Wanna play? Just hit the Ursa and get a free ice cream. Hit em hard enough and you'll even get a special prize! I gotta tell ya though, no one's gotten the prize yet, but it's so worth it! Come on, first swing's for free!" A big burly man tried to smash the ursa in the face, but he failed despite swinging so hard he actually broke the hammer. He did manage to get 80% of the way there however. The carny was unphased at the turn of events and simply pulled another rubber hammer out from a bucket near by. It was next to another bucket containing broken hammers. The big guy left dejected, but at least got ice cream.

[Assistant]
Napoli Fiordilatte - Dei Tour (Cafeteria)

"Just ignore Gratia, she's just jealous she didn't think of the idea. After all, she's way too poor to afford a decent pillow herself, as far as I'm concerned with my eyes closed on the people I can imagine the feathers came from just about anywhere," A large grin spread across Napoli's face, "Comfort is a thing to be enjoyed after all, and a Hunter's life is rough enough. Is it so wrong to have a nice pillow."

Turning his attention off of his irksome teammate, Napoli began speaking to his more level headed leader. "Come on Boss, it's not like I'm ask you to date anyone, just join in on the little bet. Speaking of which," Napoli once more turned his attention to Bianca, "In terms of what I can offer you. Well... let me think." There was a slight pause as a truly brilliant idea brewed within the confines of Napoli's beautiful mind. Napoli let out another chuckle as he began speaking again, this idea was just that brilliant.

"Bianca, if you're one the most beautiful women I've met, then that means I just have to be the wittiest mind you've ever met. If you win our little bet, you'll get a one of kind, signed Napoli Fiordilatte limited edition Joke Book, complete with an entire section on how to aggravate Gratia. I don't know about you, but I'd say that's a pretty priceless work of art. One for the history books."

I really am a genius.

All that said, Napoli did realize that he had to take his teammate's whisper into account, so it was time to slightly amend the terms and conditions. "So how about this for the bet, we give it two months, if you've found a suitable boy or girl via your flyers that you've been with for at least 2 weeks, you win the joke book. Otherwise I win the pillow. I'll even tip it a little in your favor, if you have a significant other by the end of the two months but it hasn't been two weeks, we'll let the bet go into overtime and make sure that relationship has time to finish it's two weeks."

"Sound good?"

Of course I don't see why it wouldn't. One of my most greatest ideas after all. Napoli mused to himself, as he reached for another slice of pizza. It was then that he felt it, an odd breeze was coming in and as a sniper the hunter was particularly intune with such phenomena. Knowing the speed and direction of the wind was pretty essential after all, and this breeze seemed to be originating from inside. Rather odd, but honestly he didn't care that much. In fact, it was rather amusing watching people chase after their plates, a comical scene really. He'd probably let this one go on for a little longer, let the others get worked up over it.

[User]
Bianca Nuit – A Dei Tour

"Oh it's not that bad Gratia, it's not like the feathers are still connected to me. For all I know if I don't give him a pillow we'll find him scavenging for my fallen feathers in a week or two." Bianca deduced. Besides, she knew that she had the softest feathers of anyone she'd ever met, so it only made sense that her teammates had pillows made of them. That way they had a leg up on the competition.

Bianca felt a graceful caress against her legs and she saw a few plates fly up in the distance. She pinned her left hand to her right thigh keeping her skirt where it ought to be and glanced around at the table.  "Well I know almost everyone's abilities at this table. And no one I know has the ability to make me flash the table across from us." Bianca said shooting a look that could kill a person towards Emerald.

But she didn't hold it, instead she diverted her attention back to Napoli.  "I'll tell you what, you've got a deal, I'll throw my flyers up and if I can find a partner before two months is up, that joke book is mine." Bianca said swiftly throwing a wink Gratia's way. Bianca didn't wink for flirtation techniques, although passerby might think so with the way she carried herself. But that was sort of the point. Instead Bianca was notifying Gratia there was a reason she was accepting this stupid bet. Seriously, the best pillow money could buy for a joke book.

 "Seriously though Emmy cut this shit out." Bianca snapped growing tired of holding her skirt down. Bianca found Beacon pretty alright, but more than anything she thirsted for adventure, battle, something. She wanted or rather, needed something to quell the thirst for a mission in her bones. She decided that once the group had finished their meal she would demand they search for a mission, her demands only worked every once in a while, typically when the group shared an interest in her demands. They may been a dysfunctional group, but they figure it out pretty well.

[Assistant]
IC: Emerald

Curses my plans have been foiled again!

The wind stopped as Emerald's ears drooped, she'd been far too obvious, the others had figured out it was her already. Still, to maintain her dignity she acted like nothing had happened and took a long swig of her soda. A realllyyy long swig...

She managed to chug the whole can, catching her breath as she finished. She grabbed another soda can, all that sugar.

Nyahahahaha...okay stop that. As she popped the can open and took a sip she wondered what to do next, she wasn't hungry anymore. The rest of the group all knew each other, had known each other for a long time. But Emmy? No she was just a stranger, she didn't know them and they didn't know her. It sort of made it difficult to engage in conversation.

With a heavy sigh Emerald put her head on the table, looking at the others sideways was sort of interesting...not really.


[System]
Race: Human
Profession: Ranger
Age: 18

Personality:

Merrill is a grave young man that carries the world on his shoulders. He rarely speaks, and when he does so, it is with the barest minimum words that he can use to convey his meaning. He is a thoughtful young man, who takes the time to think about every situation from every possible angle. He is very hesitant to take action, and will only do so when he has considered the action and its possible consequences as far as he can.

One thing that he takes great pains to conceal from others are his abilities as a seer. He is very, very painfully aware that such abilities of divination and foresight, if discovered would lead to his instant execution with no questions asked because of the fears of magic. Because of this, Merrill is well aware of the fact that he is not just in danger himself, but he is also potentially a danger to everyone else around him, if his talent was to ever be discovered. Only a select few trusted souls know of Merrill's secret.

Merrill's goal and driving obsession is to learn more of his abilities as a seer. Primarily, he needs and wants to learn to control the talent, so he can tap into it and use it at will rather than have the ability take him at the most inopportune moments. On the odd occasion, he will go into a trance and seemingly lose control of his body - at these times he will speak in riddles and rhymes, often telling of an event still to happen, predict the weather, or divine some other obscure bit of information about another person that nobody else would know. When this passes he has no memory of the event afterwards. Merrill's biggest fear is that this will happen when he is around the others as something like that would cause his own imminent doom.

That is why above all else, he needs to learn to control his ability.

In addition to this, there is a certain amount of bitterness inside of Merrill in regards to his ability. Whereas most people would see an ability to tell the future as a blessing, to Merrill it is a curse. There is no worse fate in all the world than to know what is about to happen and know that you can do nothing at all to change it. To speak to a man and know he will die in the week, to know that two lovers are fated to split and be apart. To know your own destiny and have no control over it - there is nothing worse than that.

However, it is not all secrecy and gloom for Merrill. He is very loyal to his friends, and although he can count the number of his true friends on the fingers of one hand and still have fingers left over those friends he does have he will die for. But because of his secret, he will not learn to trust easily, and will not trust anyone unless he has absolutely no reservations of their intentions and believes that they will not betray him. In that way, he is perhaps overly cautious and maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit paranoid.

Background:

Merrill was born in a small village near to Edsel, off the coast. Merrill was born the son of a travelling band of gypsies, and until his teenage years he was reasonably content with his life.

Until his latent "talent" manifested itself.

Over the next couple of years, Merrill's abilities became more and more prominent, and it became difficult to hide them. Eventually, it was Merrill's elder brother, Onlaron, who discovered the truth first. Onlaron did not share Merrill's fascination with it, and was in fact horrified. Although he did not tell anyone, he tried to swear the young Merrill to an oath of secrecy, impressing upon the impressionable youth how important it was to keep his ability secret. Merrill, not really understanding his brother's urgency, nevertheless agreed anyway, wanting to keep the peace.

However, some things would not be kept a secret, no matter how hard one tried. Merrill's family discovered the truth. His father turned the boy out, with nary enough food to last a week. Such was the fear and prejudice that one was met with in these times. And so it was that young Merrill left his home, friendless and alone, with no place in the world.

Fate would bring young Merrill to the village of Edhel, chased by dark shadows that he did not understand, but that he suspected wanted him for his strange power, and it was there he met Callie.......

Strengths:* Expert Hunter and Tracker
* Physically Strong
* Swordsman
* Stealthy

Weaknesses:* Cold and distant - having been turned out by his kin has changed Merrill. He does not trust and he keeps himself distant from others.
* Paranoia - In that it's not paranoid to think everyone is out to get you when, in fact, everyone is out to get you
* Fear of magic
* Out of his depth. Merrill is, to be polite, out of his depth. Despite his outward demeanour suggesting otherwise, he is not ready for the world to be thrust upon him.

Powers:* Mental Alarm (upcoming danger - limited by range)
* Animal Handling
* Animal Friendship
* Animal Companion
* Augury
* Seer Sight (divining an objects past by touching it)
* Foraging (inhospitable terrain)
* Endure harsh conditions
* Endure deadly conditions
* Limited Foresight (1/day)

[User]
Callie gasped in utter horror as she saw the fire mar his features as it devoured his body. When she heard his words about him being expendable she shook her head and whimpered "No...Nononononono....Put out the fire...!" When he let her go, she stood up and stared at him, when he whispered and then fell limp. She fell to her knees at the realization that he was dead.

This...This was her fault....!

She....She did this!

...She....She really was evil! She killed the one person who was willing to help her!!!

Tears started to blur her sight and she was ready to scream once more. How could she have been stupid?! HOW COULD SHE HAVE DONE THIS?!

Before she did though, she heard another voice, and she stood up, turning to see who the source was. She watched as a strange woman stepped out of the shadows. Callie let out her own wary question, her voice choking as she tried to hold tears back, "Who-Who are you?! What do you want?!"

Callie's own body tensed as the woman drew closer, her own eyes widened at the mention that the woman was here to kill Merrill. She watched as the woman placed a hand on Merrill's body, and Callie raised her own hand, ready to try and call fire again and she warned "If...If you do something awful to his body, I swear I'll--!" She stopped when the woman spoke once more, saying that it shouldn't be this way.

Callie watched as white light appeared, and it seemed to bring life back to Merrill. Callie's breath hitched. Merrill was alive! HE IS ALIVE!

Her creating became erratic as the tears forced their way through and she stared at the woman. Before Callie could say anything, she was gone. Once the woman was gone, Callie fell to her knees and cried.

[Assistant]
My name is Merrill Anwin. Once, long ago, I was just like you.

He wakes, to the sound of horses and the motion of wheels moving. Opening his eyes, the first thing he sees is the sight of a raven haired beauty looking to him with an expression of concern on her features. She was wearing a long, flowing dress of multi colours, a garment that framed her beautiful, lithe form to perfection. Hanging from her neck was a beautiful emerald set within a golden pendant. She had worn the amulet for as long as Merrill had known her.

Dulcimae. Sister. The Dark of the Moon.

Sitting up slowly, Merrill winces at the sudden shooting sensation of agony that knifed its way through his gut. Dulcimae stood, laying a hand on his chest to settle him, pressing him down gently.

"Not this way. It should not be this way. You took a nasty wound from the sword."

Dark eyes looked down at his bare chest as worry flickered across them. Glancing down, Merrill saw the bloodstained bandage wrapped around his bare torso as she continued.

"It could have been worse though. Despite the fact that the man struck from the shadows, you managed to react just in time to avoid the worst of the blow. Either you have cat-like reflexes, or you were born with the gift. Except we know that that is impossible of course."

Laughing softly, the expression not lessening the worry in her eyes, Dulcimae stood. She missed the brief, pained expression crossing Merrill's features as he grimaced, and not from the pain. In all the years of their people, there had only been one recorded instance of a male child born with the sight that had lived to adulthood, and that man had been hunted down and killed. Legend told of a prophecy that a male born child with the sight would bring about the doom of their kind.

Dukkar, or Darklings as they were called, often showed their abilities early, and such children were killed before they grew to adulthood, and old enough to be a threat.

Merrill tried to rose again, but Dulcimae shook her head, pressing him down gently once more. "Rest, brother. Please, for me. Mother and Father have things in hand. We will cross the border tonight. We are clear of the bandits."

Dulcimae's eyes reflected her worry. Since childhood, the siblings had been inseparable. Their bond was one of blood, and it was one that the dark land they lived in could not break. From an early age, the troublesome siblings had inflicted all sorts of mischief on their long-suffering kin. And yet, despite their mischievous antics, the twins were regarded with much fondness and love from their tight-knit community. The others saw the twins as a lucky omen. Merrill was the light of the sun to Dulcimae's dark of the moon. And in the dark land they lived in, there was little enough good left to hold on to.

Tonight, they would look to cross the border, to escape from the tyrannical, lord who hated them and their kind. They would leave this place where their kind were hunted down and butchered on the whim of the mad lord, to make a new life for themselves. Tonight, their lives would change forevermore.

And as he lay down, as he looked his sister in the eye, Merrill nodded, and simply replied, "Aye."

For him, his own reckoning would come soon. Merrill knew, deep down, that he could not hide his "condition" from the others much longer. Already, there were mutterings in the camp. There were whispers that Merrill possessed some strange power that they could not comprehend. Sighing sadly, he closed his eyes. He would miss them....especially his twin, whom he had never been apart from. Once he was gone, he would carry a hole in his heart.

Yet, he knew no other way.

The door closed softly behind her. Opening his eyes, Merrill looked towards the door, where she had stood only moments before. A soft whisper escaped his lips.

"Goodbye, my sister."

***

He wakes to the sound of her crying. As his eyes flicker open, he feels a strange weariness overtake him. The last thing he remembered was the fire. The fire.....and burning. Bringing his hands up to touch his face, Merrill looks to the sky. Tracing his fingers across his skin, he is almost surprised to find that it, and he, is still whole.....

But how could that be? I died.....I remember dying in fire.....

Sitting up slowly, holding his head in his hands, he blinks once....twice. This didn't make any sense. There wasn't even any pain, just the memory of it.....burning away at him. Moving his hands away, he blinks again, looking over to see Callie there, on her knees, crying.

"Callie," he whispers, as he moves over to her.

He places his arms around her, drawing her into him as he holds her tight. Squeezing his eyes tight, he holds her.

"Its ok Callie. Its ok.....its all going to be ok. I promise." Tears formed in his eyes, spilling as they fell.

"We survived.....it doesn't matter how, but we did it....." Bringing a trembling hand up, he runs it through her hair as he holds her head into his shoulder.

"We survived....." he whispers again.

In the distance, the fire still burned, but the rain was dampening it. Soon it would be nothing but smoke on the wind.

[User]
Callie didn't stop crying, despite that Merrill was waking up, and was clearly alive. She couldn't stop crying. The events of this night...

The loss of her family...

The loss of her home...

The loss of her normal life...

And the near loss of someone who had been willing to help her...

They all just crashed down on Callie and the tears just would not stop flowing. She truly felt like she was just a child, as her magic surge had physically forced her into becoming.

When she felt him wrap his arms around her, she hugged back instinctively, and she buried her head into his shirt as the tears kept on coming.

As she cried, she could only manage to say the words through her sobbing, "I'm sorry...! I'm so sorry...!"

[Assistant]
Merrill shook his head, holding onto her.

"There's nothing to apologise for Callie. Nothing at all. It'll all be ok."

He hadn't ever had to comfort anyone before, and so Merrill was a little unsure about whether he was doing it properly. Eventually he settled for just patting her back awkwardly. The night was drawing on, and it had been a long night indeed..... In the distance the fire became nothing more than a damp smoulder.

Still holding Callie to him, Merrill lay his head on hers.

"You'll make it, I promise," he whispered to her.

***

The next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming down into the small grotto. Its light reflected off the surface of the water which ran next to him. His eyes flickered open slightly, taking in the small sliver of light that illuminated their surroundings. The feeling of a small weight on his chest drew his attention. Glancing down, Merrill saw Callie's head, still laying on him, her eyes closed. They must have both fallen asleep from their exertions the night before.

Wincing inwardly, Merrill stood, gently moving Callie off him and withdrawing his arm from around her.

That was inexcusable, an inner voice hissed at him. You were supposed to stand watch over her as she slept. The demon could have come back....or your sister, or worse. You could have lost your charge because of your incompetence.

Sighing softly, Merrill walked over to the river. Sitting down there on the riverbank, he crossed his legs, and he watched the river as it flowed eastwards.

And as he did, he reflected on the fact that that was the first night he could remember for a long long time that he didn't have any nightmares.


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon:
Twin Daggers - Twin daggers, they respond to aura more easily than other material, allowing him to make his imbued strikes.

Dust imbued coat - The coat creates an after-image of him whenever he uses his Semblance. It looks really cool, and can be disorientating to fight, and makes it harder to keep track of him.

Lightning Pins - Throwing knives with a unique design to attract electricity. Using these knives he can set up his Lightning Rod skill's directions, giving him more versatility of approach. They can be used as ranged weapons as well, although they are weak in that regard. Due to their small size, he can carry a large amount of them, and throw a large amount of them with relative ease, and can dash to each one mid-flight, allowing him to really mix things up.

Specialty: Fast, i
ncredibly fast, coupled with his lightning-speed semblance, Jack Orpheus is nigh impossible to hurt or catch. His speciality is in distraction work, anti-personnel and duels. His incredible speed allows him to force opponents on their toes, and eventually pressure them until even a split second opening is created, which he will exploit, or against larger opponents, he can reach harder-to-strike areas much more quickly than others. It is reported he is fast enough to assault one opponent from more than 5 directions (thanks to his Lightning Rod skill he created). Obviously, even a little bit of damage on him will hamper his mobility, so even a minor strike on him can be a big thing.

Semblance:
 Midnight Lightning - Only called so because of it's black and navy blue appearance, it appears to eat the light around it, creating an ethereal or unnatural appearance. This semblance allows Jack to zip in straight lines at lightning speed, and usually without pause. As he passes opponents with it, he is able to slash at opponents, and can even imbue his blades with his Semblance in order to make his strikes sharper and deadlier. He has a special technique with his Semblance called "Lightning Rod", allowing him to do multi-directional dashes as long as he hits a reference point, such as a tree, poles, etc. Against larger opponents, he can even use their limbs, allowing him to deal extra damage as well as maintain mobility.

Midnight Railgun - By zipping around with his semblance, he builds up his aura and eventually glows slightly. The brighter he glows, the stronger the attack. Railgun is executed as a long range rushing attack in a straight line, and it's maximum range is a sniper rifle's. He can charge it manually like a power-up stance, allowing him to prepare an entry, or charge it in the midst of battle by using his semblance.

The move has an insane amount of power, and when used he becomes essentially a living light-speed bullet when fully charged, but can still be used at low charges, but that would mean he would have to charge it up again once used.

Full charge is shown by a change in hair and eyes, as well as his aura becoming very visible around him.

Personality: An incredibly fast mind equipped with wit and mouth that talks fast enough to keep up with it. He is often seen as an idiot due to how he is usually unable to read atmosphere, possibly because he sets his own pace, which turns out to be faster than many can keep up with. He can be seen as tactless, but he is not without merit. He doesn't seem to mind the little things, and he is able to work together and cooperate, on the other hand, others may find him disagreeable. He handles himself and others in a largely informal way, so he also comes off as rather rude.

Appearance: I'm gonna draw a new one. You're gonna have to wait till next week though due to assignments.

Color: Midnight Blue

Emblem: Twin lightning bolts in a V shape.

[User]
Luke Schwarz -- Mission Control
Gonna get down on FRIDAY

---

One black-haired member of the contingent of four walking down to the pavilion bright and early, or at least what counted as bright and early to a former high-schooler who really wished he could schedule classes on his own time blocks as opposed to having periods to fill, yawned and raised his arms to the sky, stretching languidly with an oddly relaxed demeanor for a Friday morning at Beacon.

The week had passed by quicker than he had expected, and had been, in very basic terms, an entirely average week. There were highs--

* Language.
* Psychology.
* Newfound understanding of mathematics.
* Getting to know the class a little better.

--and there were lows--

* Practice.
* Ending up unable to show Beryl Harken to the pool.
* Missing an oppurtunity to convince Beryl Harken to ride double when they headed for the pool
* Being acutely aware that his scalp was under constant scrutiny by one or more Vignobles--
	+ Whenever possible.

--But in its totality, the week was a normal, balanced week. While it may have seemed at first glance to have been strange from the get-go, especially judging from the events told about Monday, through the objective, 20/20 lens of hindsight, he had come to recognize that it was actually entirely normal for a day in Beacon. High concentrations of extraordinary individuals lead to high concentrations of extraordinary events. As such, what was extraordinary to him quickly and suddenly became ordinary. Unusual became usual. Outlandish became routine.

And he had begun to adapt. Not as quickly as he was sure his mother had, or his sister would, but that being said, he had been faced with a far more jarring transition than to simply be eased into the program by Signal.

That also being said, he was an obstinate young man by nature, almost foolishly so. The adaptation had been going at a slow burn rather than the typically foretold explosion of freedom and change one was purportedly to experience in colleges, or college-like settings. He still found himself surprised, for example, to learn that one of his classmates, the leader of Team RWBY, was a girl barely a year, if even that, older than his little sister at Signal. He was surprised to learn that he shared a class with a famous athlete, on team JNPR.

I hated that cereal, though...

Count Chocula to the grave.

Lucas Schwarz, 18-year-old-hunter-in-training-and-sophist-at-large, was, as we just established, still obstinately finding surprise in things even as he was adjusting to life amongst his peers at Beacon, and acknowledge daily (hourly) wackiness as the status quo. So with that in mind, then, it should come as little surprise that he found himself very surprised when he woke up Friday morning.

As everyone knew, even well before they transferred or enrolled into Beacon properly, Fridays were dedicated to mission days. At least once a week, a team would go out and gain field experience. This was not the surprise being described, for even the desultory, foolish, easily-surprised Lucas Schwarz was privy to the weekly routine in terms of his classes.

His last mission was arguably the worst experience of his life. By necessity and unfortunate timing, he was in both senses of the phrase thrown into the fire on his first day of school. Having likely set a record for "World's shortest span of time between departing and arriving from and to Beacon's Airdock", before he could even unpack he was en route to the Underground Casino. From start to finish, he had felt as though he would snap from his own sheer tension-- everything from simply slipping under the notice of a very bored security officer to the climactic confrontation with the ringleaders themselves, he thought himself a hair's breadth from losing it.

He'd had his hand crushed in a closing steel door, and nearly fallen victim to the same fate in his entirety to the automated version. He'd had to bring his A-game combat performance to fight not one, but two senior officers of the White Fang contingent stationed within, after drawing literally every eye in the casino onto himself by making the most overblown scene he could imagine.

Maybe I should join theatre--

No.

I'm not thespian enough.

He'd had more close encounters with fire than he dared dream to happen in a year fending the two of them off, and the very closest one had come from poor Cian, under the hallucinatory effects of Morgan's Semblance. Were it not for his teammates exploitation of cognitive dissonance and their opponent's willingness to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, it was likely that Officer Murphy would have dropped into a much bloodier mess.

Would it have been a complete rout? Maybe not. their leader's own combat prowess was formidable, and with that lightning-like speed of his he was probably more than capable of taking out Morgan before she could work her semblance's powers upon him as well, especially if he had taken out their ringleader by his lonesome.

Nonetheless:

It was an experience that I had reservations upon the idea of repeating.

So what, then, was the surprise?

It may have been Jack, eternal lover of a good fight, influencing him and his judgement.

It may have been Cian, whose eagerness to better herself and put that incident behind her, spurring him on in turn as he watched her leave in the evenings for the firing range, helmet in tow.

It may have been Mokuren, her seemingly-constant absences, distant nature, and unrepentantly strange sayings leaving him with more questions than answers about her character, ones he thought may be illuminated in a context so much more reliant on actions than words.

It may have simply been his own mind, tired of dredging up singular facts and formulae from the flood of information he had absorbed through each and every class, longing for a change of pace. A type of insanity that came from without, rather than generated from within as it tried to keep up, furiously collating information in the most valiant effort put forth in the XXth century.

Whatever the reasoning may have been, the surprise came all the same to the black-haired man:

He was looking forward to their mission today. Even in the face of the hard times the first was, he still felt a curious breed of excitement overtake him as he shook off the cobwebs when JCML rolled into the pavilion at precisely 8:50 AM, just ahead of a lively team of Seniors.

As a team, they approached one of the many information terminals, and as if hearing them coming, it flared to life.

Gray eyes casting their vision over the screen as it flashed for them, he searched for the now all too familiar combination of JCML in the headers, blinking when he found none. He scanned again, noting that a certain few clumps of letters were in pairs--

Wait.

He picked out the three secondary names, his face impassive even as his mind began to comprehend the meaning behind their placement. JNPR, with CODE. IFRA, with KNVS. And finally, nonchalantly tacking itself onto a mission he felt a tad guilty for not reading anyways in the first place-- JCML, with BASL.

And now IFRA, too.

A typo?

"A joint mission," he noted carefully, to the team as a whole. "And S-Rank. It looks like we're going to have our work cut out for us, if they plan on sending two teams in, with senior backup."

As he awaited the response from his teammates, he looked over his shoulder on either side, in search of four specific pairs of eyes.

* Benjamin Lloyd
* Amaranth Desire
* Sangue Naga
* Lorena Negasi

"Good thing it's with BASL. They seem to have good heads on their shoulders, and I'm pretty sure we all know how well they do in fights." he continued with a touch of wry humor, relating back to that first wild Monday session of sparring.

[Assistant]
IC: Emerald Felicia - Dorms -

"Guys are you ready!? Because I've been ready to go for an hour!" Emerald exclaimed quite early in the morning, uncharacteristically alert and hyperactive for how early it was, she normally wasn't much of a morning person. Nevertheless she went to bed earlier than usual Thursday night, and woken up before the rest of her team.

To say she'd been anticipating her first mission was an understatement, she'd gone to bed with her heart thumping in her chest, and when she woke up it had been beating even faster. She was ready to kick ass and shoot some Grimm! She'd showered, gotten dressed, eaten, and grabbed her gear in less than an hour, that had to be a record breaker for her.

The last four days had been a bit of a blur for her, nothing of note had really happened between then and now, save for the agonizing wait for Friday. But now that wait was over! Emerald looked her outfit over, making sure everything was put on correctly and that her shoes were properly tied and that her shotguns were filled to the brim with ammo and properly cleaned and functional. Of course she'd checked this last night, and a few times this morning already. But it never hurt to check for the fifth time!

Emerald looked back at her team, by now they were all either ready, or just about. She couldn't wait in the dorm any longer, so she opened the door. "I'm gonna start heading towards the mission brief!" With those parting words she clipped her weapons onto her arms and headed out the door, moving at a brisk pace toward the Commons.

I wonder how many Grimm we're gonna kill...well that's a silly question, all of them!

She giggled to herself as she dodged random students rushing through the hallways. The atmosphere of the school felt very tense, she could almost sense the anxiety from the other students, it was very stimulating!

Before she even realised it she was at the designated meeting place set by Esther Vanhomrigh. And speaking of Ms. Vanhomrigh, there she was, waiting for them! Emerald had never personally met Esther, but Emerald wasn't one to be shy!

"Good morning!" Emerald waved with one of her arms, shotgun and all.


[System]
Age: 17

Heritage: The son of Hatter Madrail. Ghent's mother was murdered a few years after he was born.

Adoptive parents: Frederick and Elise Preston. Elise was the first to find Hatter's son; she was astonished to discover him in the woods near their home, disoriented and impossibly lost.

Appearance: Thick, medium length black hair. The style is unpredictable, but the layers sometimes give it an unruly appearance. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, which are blue in color and have a sharp, piercing quality to them. The rest of his features are dark and seem to contrast against his paler-than-should-be skin. He has a lithe build and currently stands at 5'9", but has about a year left to grow.

Distinguishing Marks: A few light freckles running across the bridge of his nose. A more noticeable one is underneath his left eye. He has a small scar underneath his jaw.

Clothes Wear: Whatever's comfortable. He usually wears hoodies, jeans, worn out sneakers, and three quarter/graphic t-shirts.

Abilities: Strength and magic, both inherited from his race. As far as magic goes, Ghent was completely unaware of the ability until Drust and Elayra came to earth. Understandably, he is inexperienced but has the potential to become better with practice.

Weapons: A staff, given to him on page 13.

Personality: It's no secret that Ghent can be a pain. He isn't malicious, but he enjoys pushing the buttons of others in order to get a reaction out of them. His sarcasm usually lands him in trouble, but his past experiences haven't been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Despite his immaturity, he has a good heart. Ghent has lazy tendencies, but can be hard working with proper motivation.

Major Positive Traits: Compassionate. Empathetic. Hardworking (sometimes).

Major Negative Traits: Sarcastic. Cocky. Klutz. Impulsive. Awkward.

Weaknesses: At times, Ghent doubts himself and his abilities. The fear of failure usually prevents him from achieving success. Having lived in two worlds, he struggles with deciding where he belongs and where his loyalties lie.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Fidgets a lot, often with the drawstrings of his hoodies. When he's faced with a situation he can't wrap his mind around, he will pace and/or mumble to himself until he can make sense of what's happening.  Tags: "Cut me some slack!" "Great." "Wait, what?"

Fears: Ghosts. Failure. Being unable to return home. Wonderland in general.

Short Bio: Ghent's story could have been a tragic one, had he not been found. He was discovered in a forest as a toddler, and later adopted by the very family that took him in.
 For much of his childhood, Ghent lived in the comforts of a small farmhouse in the country. Life was serene, quiet, and good. He grew up happy and healthy, with a mother who doted on him and a dedicated, hardworking father.
 Things changed when they moved. Seeking better employment, Mr. Preston uprooted his family to the city, which is where they remained for the years that followed.
 The city posed many differences and challenges, but Ghent learned to adapt and knew his way around. Unfortunately, street smarts didn't help much in school.
 As Ghent grew older, the nightmares and flashbacks became more frequent. Different events or images would trigger a memory, many of which involved Elayra and Drust. The memories confused and frightened Ghent. He never forgot Wonderland, but he learned to stop talking about it after his parents sought him professional help. It was something his mother made the mistake of telling her longtime friend, Mrs. Saxon.
 News spread and rumors started. High school proved to be Ghent's biggest obstacle. He became an easy target for jokes and ridicule, and his grades began to suffer for it.
 Motivated by money and the desire to help his family financially, he began to take on odd jobs. His fifth job turned out to be his favorite: a part-time shift at Frank's Book Barn.
 Even there, Ghent wasn't free from Wonderland. Flashbacks would hit him at the most inconvenient times…and they didn't cease until became reunited with two important faces from his past.

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

Appearance:  Henry is thin, wiry, with no muscle tone whatsoever. He makes an effort to look neat, but his untamed shock of ginger hair betrays him by looking a mess and his freckles are out of control. When reading, he wears thick black glasses over his large, brown eyes that give him an owlish appearance.

Clothes wear: Henry wears an odd mix of clothing. Most of his clothes are hand-me-downs from previous cousins, including Ghent. When his options are limited, he can be found wearing faded graphic t-shirts (he favors Disney ones) and jeans that have been rolled up at the cuffs in order to fit.

Personality: Despite a rocky home life, Henry remains optimistic, but he has a sensitive side that results in him crying at the drop of a hat. Although he has a sweet, childlike innocence about him, he isn't foolish. He's remarkably intelligent and has a great love for reading and learning. Because of his OCD, Henry is always cleaning and organizing, and likes to keep busy in order to make himself useful. His desire for perfect order can be a little overwhelming at times, but he means no ill intent and has great respect for his family and friends.

Bio: Henry is an only child who never longed for the company of a sibling. Growing up in the country, he had plenty of family and cousins to spend his time with. The families all lived quite close in the rural area, including the Preston family.
 Even as a toddler, Henry was fascinated by Ghent and seemed to gravitate towards him, viewing him as an older brother figure. To the delight of their parents, the three year age gap and a difference in personality didn't prevent the two boys from getting along.
 After the Preston family moved to the city, Henry was heartbroken. The families kept in touch when possible, making multiple visits during the holidays. The visits lessened over the years, but Henry took it upon himself to keep in touch through any means possible. To Elise's delight (and to Frederick and Ghent's dismay) Henry has been known to leave long rambling phone messages, sends more texts than a teenage girl, and writes letters so long, they need to be mailed in multiple envelopes.
 Henry is the only one Ghent continued to trust with his few memories of Wonderland. Their efforts to uncover the mystery were admirable, but brought nothing but disappointment and wild theories. Eventually, a disgruntled Ghent gave up, but Henry continued to search for the truth behind his cousin's past.

[User]
Ghent mentally counted each time Elayra disappeared underneath the water. One, two, three times. He wondered how many attempts it would take her before she found the dagger or gave up. When she emerged for the fourth time, he looked in her direction. From what he could tell, she was in the correct location. He hoped she would find the weapon soon, if only for his sake.
 The boy secured the bandaging around his wrist, watching in amazement as the collection of debris steadily grew on the bank. Sticks, a mirror, an assortment of bottles and cans…at least Earth wasn't the only world with pollution.
 Forcing his attention back to his injuries, Ghent began to clean at the bloodied marks around his neck. He winced as he heard the girl emerge from the water a fifth time, her agitation evident even in her breaths.
 Finally, the blonde gave up. Ghent swallowed uneasily as she began to make her way toward the bank, her hands empty. Finished with the moondrop milk, he fit the stopper in its place and returned the bottle to the box. He wanted to be done and out of the way before she got back.
 A loud clang sounded nearby, making Ghent's heart do a somersault. He whipped his head around to find the culprit, scowling when he realized Elayra was responsible. He almost scolded her, but changed his mind when he saw her take her frustration out a bottle.
 Taking a breath, the boy braced himself for Elayra's wrath. The lost dagger would undoubtedly be a source of tension for a while. He didn't make eye contact as she approached, his mouth set in a grim line. He glanced at her when she stopped and regretted it instantly. The contempt in her eyes spoke volumes.
 Unnerved, Ghent looked away. He didn't see the point in pleading his case. If saving Elayra's life wasn't enough to cut him a bit of slack, nothing was. He only hoped his silence would be enough until she cooled down.
 The silence was broken by Elayra, who pointed out that he was still wet. Ghent's mouth fell when she ordered him to remove his clothes, but then she tossed a pair of pants at him.
 "Er…" Ghent contemplated pointing out the obvious. The pants wouldn't fit him. He wasn't even sure if they'd stay up. He lifted the too-long trousers in front of himself, the legs unraveling. The fabric seemed to go on forever. Casting a skeptical look in Elayra's direction, he held the pants up higher to show her the length. "Aren't these a little big?"

[Assistant]
Without waiting for Ghent's response, Elayra plunged her arm back into the bag. Her movements were jerky, heated, as she tried to recall what Drust's spare daggers looked like to call one to her from the pack's depths. She thought he had a stiletto, but she wasn't entirely sure if it had been his, or borrowed.
 Her search and thoughts stopped at Ghent's complaints. A Drust-worthy sneer curled over her lips as she glowered up at him.
 "Would you rather just stand around in your damp underwear?" she snapped. "They need to dry. We can't leave them behind, but they'll make everything else in your pack wet." Her hand closed in a fist inside Drust's bag. Instead of grasping air, she recognized the shape of a hilt against her palm. "So shut up," she pulled it out and pointed the sheathed tip of the dagger she'd found threateningly at Ghent, "and figure it out."
 She slapped the top flap of Drust's bag shut. She looked to the stiletto dagger as she slid the blade from its thin metal and leather scabbard, examining it with a critical eye.
 It was nice enough, she supposed. The silvery metal turned the hilt into a spiral, ending in a small, elegant round pummel. Its blade's length matched what she'd grown accustomed to, only significantly thinner. Its edges glinted in the sunlight, sharp enough for use, but, in Elayra's eye, it was due for a date with a whetstone.
 She tested its weight in her hand. Even with its entire metal construction, it felt lighter than her lost weapon. It felt… wrong. Like she was betraying her other dagger. Betraying the trust of who it once belonged to. More importantly, betrayed Drust by losing it.
 Her lips tightened and she gripped the hilt and scabbard harder. It shouldn't matter this much to her. Not like this, at any rate. And yet, it did.
 Until the moment Ghent had confirmed the news, Elayra hadn't realized exactly how much she cared where the dagger had come from. Or, perhaps, it was the when. A right of passage of knowing Drust trusted her enough to pass on such a fine, meaningful weapon to her. It felt as if she'd lost some small part of herself.
 With a growling huff at her unwanted emotions, she threw the stiletto toward the first-aid box. The force embedded over half its blade into the earth an inch from the box. Right where she'd aimed. At least its balance was decent enough for throwing.


[System]
Former faction: Decepticons
Role: Engineer/medic

Normal Appearance:

Do not let her streamlined looks fool you - that only means that her weapons are protected in retractable pods. Nightscream stands about 9 meters tall. Her 'helmet' has a retractable visor that covers the entirety of her face when deployed and serves as a HUD.

Alternate form:
Cybertronian jet. As the word 'stealth' is not even in her vocabulary, Nightscream was against hiding on the human world from the get-go, not wanting to 'downgrade' to any human design. Her vehicle mode has the length of about 6 meters and top speed in atmosphere of about Mach 6. As usual with Cybertronian strikecraft, she is fully spaceworthy.

Weapons and tools:
2x retractable blades (Forearms) - Only available in robot mode. A last ditch weapons for when somebody manages to get too close to her.
4x energy blaster (Wings/Wrist pods) - The basic cannons. Not really powerful unless the target is hit with several shots, but with high rate of fire and good energy efficiency.
2x null ray (Hull mounts/Shoulder pods) - High-power weapons that can disable target's electronics (or nervous system) in a single shot and permanently fry it in few, depending on the target's size. The downside is the reload which can take from 60 seconds to five minutes, depending on how much power is Nightscream directing to her other systems.
2x Fusion bomb (Bomb bay) - Only available in vehicle mode. Nightscream's cargo bay can either hold 2 guided glider bombs or minicons/capsule transformers.
Disruptor field (Minicon/Cyber key/...) - When connected to a strong power source, Nightscream gainst the ability to generate an energy barrier around herself that protects her from harm for 60 seconds of continuous fire before it overheats and needs to cool down for 2 minutes.

Personality:
Nightscream is not a very pleasant fellow, having her own ideas about how to do things. Her loyalties lie first and foremost with herself and her own well being. As far as decepticons go, she was loyal to Soundwave who has been her mentor and master since the beginning, but despised Megatron and Starscream for being incompetent. She is often indifferent to the actual battle between the 'Cons and the 'Bots, only on the 'Con team because she doesn't feel like dying for the greater good.

In combat however, she is relentless. Wherever she goes, loud booms follow, as she doesn't believe in stealth, only in raw power. She can focus to the point of the world becoming nonexistent save for her objective, making her very determined, sometimes downright stubborn. Nightscream had an idea of forming a splinter faction within the decepticons, hoping to gain independence from them and the war.

That was before Cybertron was abandoned by both of its leaders, leaving her to realize her plans without any disturbance from a high pitched voice commander demanding her to join air patrols and waste her precious time and intelligence.

History:
Nightscream is a veteran, being an engineer long before Lord Megatron rose to power and serving the decepticons as one and also as field medic and air trooper for decades. Even from the beginning she chose to side with them more from wanting to be on the winning team rather than having the same ideology, always working on her own agenda. Thus she managed to survive to present day.

Nightscream welcomed Megatron's departure as the war seemed to quiet down. With the uncertainty of survival, she is vigilant and on edge, trying to take over of as much of the decepticon intelligence network to get her eyes and ears everywhere she can so she could put her plan to motion. She started gathering followers that could help her find an alternate source of energy for their planet that would render them independent on supplies sent by those that left.

Extras and additional information:
- She is a combat engineer. As such, Nightscream most of the time stays out of a fight or participates indirectly, however she will intervene if she thinks her skills are needed or the situation is rather dire.
- Nightscream has a weird interest in Human culture and is especially fond of the movies.
- Voice actor: Alix Wilton Regan
- Theme: Jinki Extend OST, 18 - Game Kaishi
Name: Nightscream

Former faction: Decepticons

Role: Engineer / Medic / Mad Scientist

Normal Appearance:

When choosing an Earth form, Nightscream was hard pressed to keep her body's power consumption low enough. Thus she chose to make her actual body rather small for the day-to-day things and capable of powerlinking with additional parts attachable to her vehicle mode in a larger, more armored and armed Brute mode. In this form she is almost universally grey and silver with purple and yellow accents. Unlike her cybertronian form that was designed to work in labs, Nightscream's Earth form is bulkier and more armored and also capable of flight in a proto form. Her face has a deployable visor and faceplate.
(Same shape as Armada Jetfire)

Brute Mode:

Nightscream can combine with the unused parts of her alternate mode that take the shape of the boosters and external tank. Her main body collapses it's limbs to form attachment points of the larger limbs and additional armor made out of the disassembled ET. The boosters split in half, the bottom transforming into shoulder mounted cannons while the top transforms into a new set of arms ended in a heavy-duty three arm grapples for hands. In this form she is mostly purple with yellow accents and grey cannons and arms

Alternate form:

The space shuttle. Still not a proponent of stealth, Nightscream kept her usual color scheme. The main body of the shuttle is mostly grey, connected to a purple tank and grey set of boosters. The alt-mode is capable of functioning without the parts that form Nightscream's Brute Mode, sacrificing thrust power for increased agility.

Weapons and tools:

Plasma blaster (Protoform): A gun firing plasma bolts. Trades in rate of fire for heavier hit.
Shield (Protoform): A simple bit of heavy armor that serves as a shield.
2x Missiles (All modes): Wing mounted missiles. Nightscream can swap the warheads if she has alternatives available, but usually she will keep one armed with high explosive and another with an EMP warhead.
4x Energy blaster (Vehicle mode): The standard ranged weapon of choice mounted in the leading edge of the wings. Low energy consumption and damage, high rate of fire. Nightscream has the habit of cycling the barrels on her weapons, virtually quadrupling her rate of fire.
2x Rocket blaster (Brute mode): Monstrous cannons capable of bringing down buildings. They require several seconds of charge before firing and five minutes to cool down and consume unhealthy amount of energon, but one or two hits is all it takes to bring down even larger transformers or to disable a key system on a spaceship.
Null field (Minicon/Cyber Key/...): When connected to a strong power source, Nightscream gainst the ability to generate an energy barrier around herself that protects her from harm for 60 seconds of continuous fire before it overheats and needs to cool down for 2 minutes. She can expand the field's volume at the cost of its longevity.
Laserbeak: Nightscream took possession of Soundwave's deployer for the time being. He can launch out of her cargo bay in vehicle mode or chest in her protoform. She is unable to deploy laserbeak in Brute mode.

Personality:

Nightscream is not a very pleasant fellow, having her own ideas about how to do things. Her loyalties lie first and foremost with herself and her own well being, followed by other Seekers, her mentor Soundwave and then maybe some greater causes. As far as decepticons go, she was loyal to Soundwave who has been her mentor and master since the beginning, but despised Megatron and Starscream for being incompetent. She is often indifferent to the actual battle between the 'Cons and the 'Bots, only on the 'Con team because she doesn't feel like dying for the greater good.

In combat however, she is relentless. Wherever she goes, loud booms follow, as she doesn't believe in stealth, only in raw power. She can focus to the point of the world becoming nonexistent save for her objective, making her very determined, sometimes downright stubborn. Nightscream had an idea of forming a splinter faction within the decepticons, hoping to gain independence from them and the war.

That was before Cybertron was abandoned by both of its leaders, leaving her to realize her plans without any disturbance from a high pitched voice commander demanding her to join air patrols and waste her precious time and intelligence.

Her projects came to be used in a different manner than she intended, having to give up her prototype chassis to extend the life of one of her new 'comrades' and in the wake of the threat of Megatronus, she is willing to enter the battle if it means liberating her brother from his grasp and making sure his influence will never extend to Cybertron.

History:

Nightscream is a veteran, being an engineer long before Lord Megatron rose to power and serving the decepticons as one and also as field medic and air trooper for decades. Even from the beginning she chose to side with them more from wanting to be on the winning team rather than having the same ideology, always working on her own agenda. Thus she managed to survive to present day.

Nightscream welcomed Megatron's departure as the war seemed to quiet down. With the uncertainty of survival, she remained vigilant and on edge, trying to take over of as much of the decepticon intelligence network to get her eyes and ears everywhere she can so she could put her plan to motion. She started gathering followers that could help her find an alternate source of energy for their planet that would render them independent on supplies sent by those that left.

Extras and additional information:

* She is a combat engineer. As such, Nightscream stays out of a fight most of the time or participates indirectly, however she will intervene if she thinks her skills are needed or the situation is rather dire.
* Nightscream has a weird interest in Human culture and is especially fond of the movies.
* Voice actor: Lexa Doig
* Theme

Relations with other characters:

* Prsim: Nightscream is neutral to the autobot, often amused by her at times naive and always straightforward approach to things, usually involving explosives or other causes of heavy damage. Suffice to say the seeker know whom to call upon if there is a building block that offends her. She enjoys schooling the younger autobot with mean and harsh devices, but does it in fact out of the goodness of hešr spark, trying to expand her ways of thinking.
* Turbulence: She approves of him being in the autobot minority to actually use a flight capable alternate mode, as well as being amazed at his internal design. Unfortunately for her, it doesn't look like she would be able to perform experiments on him any time soon.
* Sklog: Having invested lot of her research resources into the former dinobot turned something greater than a predacon, Nightscream is interested in seeing if Sklog's mind would be able to make use of the newfound processing capability and to what potential he can bring her invention. She does harbor some personal bond to the other decepticon, what with seeing him through his reincarnation.
* Cyclonus: Primus! And I thought I was the relic of an old era here!
* Blackarachnia: Ah, my favorite toy. Too bad it got infested and had to be burned.
* Soundwave: Despite bonding to the point of referring to each other as siblings, one look will identify Nightscream as a seeker when the second will identify Soundwave as anything but, disproving the theory of them being related. Their bond goes just as deep though.
* Trine: Nightscream did not share the names of her trine, whether they are still alive or what faction they fight for.

[User]
Sklog continued his onslaught against the decpticon's shield, he was filled with anger and didn't want to listen to reason. He was hurting both inside and on the outside, his joints felt foreign and his now super sped thinking was frightening him and gave him the equivalent of a headache. Suddenly his attention was taken away from Nightscream as Prism tapped on the door with a mocking tone.

This broke Sklog, he was getting angrier by the second now but the sight of Prism got him even angrier than before. 'Tall-bot do this. Tall-bot bring Sklog to room.' Sklog thought as he didn't even bother to call Prism by name as he was filled with rage. Sklog dashed for the door, mace in hand, and with all of his new body's might he struck the door's seemingly weakest point. His joints ached from the huge amount of exertion and even his mechanical parts groaned in protest of what the Predacon did but a little more pain was nothing for Sklog as he felt hurt enough already. Sklog just hoped that his blow would break through the door.

[Assistant]
"Understood." Turbulence "Lets us know if it come to..."

The Autobot's words trailed off as he watched Prism suddenly pull herself free from the wall she leaned against for tome before casually walking up to the door with a totally different expression on her face. Turbulence did not know what Prism was intending on as she searched through her compartments, but after she apparently found what she was looking for, an unexpected smirk had then formed, instantly spelling dreaded uncertainty for the Autobot flyer. Before Turbulence could even question her motives, Prism had then began to knock on the large metallic door, while mocking the lab's occupants at the same time.

What the-

"Prism? What are you-" Turbulence's questioning demand fell short just as a loud reply from the other side assailed the sealed doors, "Dammit, Prism! What are you doing?!"


[System]
Alias: N/A
Age:16

Powers/limitations:
Elemental Heritage (fire)
-Naturally immune to fire attacks
-Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source.
-weak to water and cold attacks
Curse of Rage
-drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury.
-curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father.
-severely drains mana source after use, long cool down.

Appearance:

[User]
Grace was in line for food at the cafeteria when she felt someone tap on her shoulder and she turned quickly, looking surprised before she realised who it was and smiled gently. "Tea the meal or tea the beverage made of hot water and dried leaves?" She replied with a small laugh. "I like both. A very calming drink; tea." She contemplated for a moment. Honestly it wasn't a drink she had a lot, since she rarely drank anything else besides water for a number of reasons. It had a load of health benefits, was exceptionally calming for her, and having a drink bottle full of water was always comforting since she couldn't conjure water out of the air, but was limited to manipulating existing sources.

That being said tea was still a nice drink. "Why is that?" Grace eventually asked. She doubted someone would have brought tea to school would they have? It didn't seem like a thing that was practical to bring to school. The line moved up slightly and Grace took a few steps with them. She wasn't overly keen on the whole school lunches thing, but she had forgotten to pack her own this morning so she was stuck with whatever the school was providing. It didn't look as bad as she'd heard they were supposed to be though.

[Assistant]
Grace's aura spiked for only a moment before the realization of who he was came to her and her body language relaxed; he simply smiled at her. Her answer had caught him off guard as his brain came to a halt, the gears eventually worked themselves out and he laughed along with her. Laughing, it wasn't something he experienced to often, but with Grace it came almost naturally, he wondered if her personality was having just as much of an effect on him as his was on her's.

Eventually she ended up asking him, "why is that?"

"Well, I happened to bring along an extra bag with me today and I thought you'd might like some," truthfully he was going to drink the second bag later in the afternoon, not that he was going to mention that bit to her. Just from his few encounters with her, she seemed like the type to enjoy calming things like tea. Admittedly there was an ulterior motive than just offering tea out of good will, he figured it would help her relax that much more, maybe get her to open up more and hear more of her tale.

"I just need a container to heat it up in," sensing the area he found a stack of Styrofoam cups, "perfect, I'll go save a couple of seats."

Making his way around her and out of line he snagged a couple of cups, just for good measure. He sensed around the entire cafeteria, pinpointing an area that would be out of the way and din the noise a little. Cafeterias were good for meeting up with people you wanted to meet up with, but for a new coming loner like Kyle and the timid personality Grace had, he figured secluded would be better. Eventually finding a more out of the way spot he made his way there and secured it, propping his bag in the place where Grace would sit. Satisfied, he pulled out the tea bags from his pack, including a ceramic mug he had brought from home and sat down in the empty space across his backpack, awaiting Grace's arrival.

[User]
Smiling happily Grace shook her head slightly, despite herself. "Thank you, but I'm fine really…" She trailed off as he began looking around for containers and moved off, saying he was going to go save her a seat. Tilting her head slightly the girl wondered to herself. He was certainly a strange one, Kyle. Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn't seem like the others around here. The entire time she'd seen him he hadn't seemed all that interested in anyone else. He hadn't gone out of his way to speak to anyone else that she'd seen.

As the line moved Grace eventually collected her lunch and made her way over to where the boy was sitting over in a corner away from the busyness of the cafeteria and walked over to him. He had his bag placed on the seat opposite him and she paused for a moment. She assumed it was a seat for her, but at the same didn't want to go touching his things without permission. "You know… if you wanted me to sit with you… you just had to ask." She said softly as a thought occurred to her and she looked at him curiously.

"Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace on, still standing there unsure exactly to in the situation. "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"

[Assistant]
It didn't take Grace too long afterwards for her to meet up with Kyle, he waited patiently for her to sit, but after noticing how her aura was reacting, he raised an eyebrow.

"You know... if you wanted me to sit with you... you just had to ask."

Suddenly it felt like a pit opened up in his gut and he suddenly felt like an ass, completely assuming that Grace was just going to come over and sit with him. But... "I apologize," he started, "I guess I just thought after our talk before class that we would..."

"Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace asked him, in a tone that implied she was going to ask her question anyway "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"

"huh..." that was a bit of a curveball, "well um...first, would you like to sit with me?" He said this while plopping the tea bags in their separate cups and began preparing them. At this point, he didn't think there was a reason for her to say no, even though assuming is what got him feeling like this in the first place. He grabbed his backpack, allowing Grace to sit, from there he pulled a water bottle from the pack and filled both cups with water. Using the remaining water he poured it on his hands, washing them and heat drying before sticking just the tip of his pinky in each cup and instant heating both to perfect drinkable temperatures. He passed the Styrofoam cup of tea to Grace before taking a sip of his own and telling his tale.

"My father is an influential businessman, an investor in projects, among other things and my mother, she was the reason why I have my powers. She is no longer among us, but my father, he is the one who helped me develop my powers further. Early on in my youth I had a difficult time controlling my powers, he trained with me, nearly night and day, to meditate, contemplate, project myself into the cosmos." He took another drink before looking at Grace, "When I had more of a reign on my powers and I was more...contemplative, my father mostly left me to my own devices. He has caretakers who watch over me and tutor me, but for most of my life I lived in a peaceful seclusion, my only real contact with the outside world, to be honest, was whenever my father would allow me to accompany him to work."

He took another drink of his tea, pausing to allow everything to settle in, "All in all, I think I grew up well."

[User]
Grace looked at him for a moment as he apologised and she simply smiled and giggled slightly. Perhaps they were not so different. "No no… I just meant next time you don't have to go to the effort of offering me some kind of incentive to sit with you. Nothing so fancy as tea." She tried to clarify as she sat down with him once he moved his bag. She guessed they were still in that early stages of friendship where they were still getting to know each other, so it was to be expected that there would be misunderstandings like this.

Well at least she hoped they were in the early stages of friendship. Placing her tray on the table she listened to his story, both interested and surprised by some of it. "I see…" There was a sad note in her voice now, something maybe close to pity… sympathy. You'll have to forgive me for saying… but it sounds awfully lonely." She supposed she was one to talk, so figured that maybe an explanation was due. "It may be hard to believe… but I wasn't always so shy and timid. I used to have friends."

Her tone became slightly sadder at this, longing. She missed her old friends. "It was early middle school I think. One of my friends had a bit of a mouth on him, and it got him into a lot of trouble sometimes. Onetime he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and got into a physical fight, which the other guy was winning. He was hurting my friend and… I got mad. Really mad. I'd never taken control of a person before that day… and haven't since then. Up until that point I didn't even know it was a thing I could do, though since there is so much water in the body I guess I can understand it."

She paused for a moment, sipping on her tea lightly. "It scared him. Scared me. I had to change schools because of that. After that incident though I was always that little bit afraid that something else would make me mad and I'd do to them what I did to that boy. It's not something I ever want to do to a person again. My friends didn't talk to me after that, even though I was in a different school there were ways they could have contacted me. But they didn't. I don't blame them I guess I wouldn't like it if I knew my friend had been keeping a secret like that from me." Freak had been the word of choice but it wasn't one she liked repeating.

[Assistant]
He listened to her story, quietly, intently. While his story had been met with some form of sympathy, he simply brushed it off, he didn't desire it, because he didn't need to. Her story, however, showed him that they lived practically polar opposite childhoods and it confirmed one thing for him; she had power. Enough power to even take over an unwilling being, if only she knew what true water elementals could do.

"My father once told me, that born, blessed, or cursed, once we have our powers, it has become a part of who we are." Kyle looked to Grace "You had an accident, you lost control, it happens, and unfortunately those around you were unable to understand it." He remained quiet for a bit, choosing his next words carefully.

"Grace, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but...don't be afraid of who you are and what powers you possess. You're a good person at heart, I can tell that and I have no reason to fear you, even with your level of power."

He sipped at his tea again, he could tell stories to Grace about the times he's lost control of his powers, how he's nearly burned down more things than he could count. Kyle's face became somewhat sullen at the thoughts.

[User]
Grace looked at him in surprise. She had never really thought about it that, always assuming she had been afraid of other people. But maybe he was right, though he hadn't said it in so many words; maybe she was afraid of herself and her powers. Maybe that was why she shied away from so many people. However it was the last sentence that made her look up in surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion. However after a few moments she simply shook her head and tried to laugh it off. "My level of power? No. You must be mistaken."

Her power was just like everyone else, only that it was water based rather than the other kids. She wasn't any more powerful than the next person. That made no sense. She was sure everyone got angry and lost control and had things happen they were never able to recreate, either by choice or simply because they were unable to. "I'm no more special than anyone else." She assured him, looking back down at her cup of tea and frowning again. Kyla had lived his entire life on his own anyway; he'd never had other people to compare to just like she had. How could he possibly know how powerful a person was or wasn't? Especially when he'd seen so little of her powers being used?

[Assistant]
He smirked slightly, "Grace, I think you underestimate yourself." While it was true that he had seen little display of her power, he just had this...feeling that she had more potential than she was letting on. Her story about controlling that one person proved at least that she had the potential, if nothing else, at least to Kyle, it didn't seem like a story anyone would just make up. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself though.

He smiled and relaxed his posture a little, "I suppose it really doesn't matter right now though, how powerful we are, after all we're just students trying to learn, leave the heroics to the professionals right?"

[User]
Grace smiled slightly at the boy's words and gave him a look. Exactly what kind of look she gave him she wasn't sure, but she supposed it didn't matter either way because he couldn't see her face. "Maybe I do…" The girl pondered aloud as she rubbed her finger on the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping gently. He had her really thinking now. What if she was powerful? What would that even mean for her? She still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Being a super hero just seemed… too out of character for her.

It didn't feel right. Did the magnitude of her power open up new opportunities for her? Turning back as Kyle spoke she smiled again, nodding slightly. "I suppose so…" She said, her voice clearly indicating that her thoughts were now on other things. "Do you know what you want to do with your life yet?" She asked eventually, turning back to look at him, thinking it was rude to just sit there quietly and not really add to the conversation. That and she wondered if maybe his answer may help her find some kind of direction in some way.

[Assistant]
Her aura spiked suddenly, confused he raised an eybrow, unsure of exactly what that was Grace had just...felt, done, anything. The good news though, he got her thinking, which was exactly what he was driving for, letting her take a deep long look at herself and think on things. It seemed though that whatever pondering she had was short lived and her mind wandered elsewhere. Her minimal responses suggested it before she asked him her question.

"Do I know what I want to do with my life yet..." he thought on that, he had always lived in the present, never really dwelling on things that have happened or things that have yet to happen, that being said... "I've never really thought about what I've wanted to do with my life, I generally live in the here and now, but, to be honest, I think my father has... expectations of me, though I'm unsure of when he'll exactly share them with me. I honestly believe though that it has something to do with sending me to this school, up until now, I've never been in a social learning environment."

This got him thinking though, "And what about you? I'm sure that's what you were thinking about before you asked me."


[System]
Apparent Age: 25

"IS": Human

Features: Female, 5'9", brown eyes, cropped brown hair, light brown skin.

Role: Porter

Description: Ruby takes pride in her work as a Porter, and dresses in a smart, professional uniform, with her hair neatly cropped, nails clipped, eyebrows plucked, and - most importantly - teeth brushed. You won't find just another smelly adventurer here; this girl can Dress to Impress. The oral hygiene doesn't seem to work so well on her language, though, as she's steadily sassing her way through a library of cusswords every time she goes out.

Armaments:
* Porter Uniform: Resistant to shear, stain, fire, cold, and water. Grants +1 to Professionalism.
* Arcane Blaster: Magical flintlock pistol. When the flint strikes steel and sparks the magic circuit, it draws from the user's mana to fire a deadly bolt of energy. Can load and fire flares.
* Bag of Holding: Dimensional storage pack with infinite capacity. Stores everything listed below, in addition to client properties.
* Survival gear: rope, cooking pot, ladle, survival knife, matches, ferro rod (for sparking fire), compass, canteens, gill net (for fishing), charcoal water filters, a month's worth of pemmican, several changes of clothing, magic torches, first aid kits, 6 flares (used: 1)
* Crafting gear: tool box, sewing kit, chemistry supplies
* Hygiene kit: several bars of soap, toothbrushes, floss, tongue scraper, several tubes of toothpaste, tweezers, brushes, combs
* Office supplies: ledger, checkbook, notepad, sticky notes, box of pencils, eraser, sharpener, felt-tip pen

Teraterifficence:
* [REDACTED]
* Crazy-prepared, if the above Armaments list didn't give it away.
* Alchemic Crafting: Can use the "essence" of monster drops to enhance items. Requires construction of a magic circle for transmutation.

Original World: An interplanetary empire has conquered the entire galaxy. Their fleets are nigh-invincible, and rebel forces are powerless to stop them.

And they're the good guys.

Upon expanding their reach to the galactic edge, the seven immortals on the empire's ruling body, the Immortal Council, set out amongst the stars to create new worlds for their people to inhabit. Planets that were once desolate grew life, and systems plagued with disaster saw peace. Each world took on a life of its own. Some developed a rich fantasy life, while others created breathtaking marvels of science. There was a place for everyone.

That is, until all hell broke loose on a certain backwater world named Aion...

Backstory:
"You were adopted."

Just three words. Some think it's an insult, as if being pushed out of a body part is somehow superior. Some think it's an expression of love, from people who could have picked anyone they wanted and deliberately chose you.

I just munched on my cracker.

It wasn't exactly a revelation to 10-year-old me - I mean, when my dad stormed into the living room ten years prior and the first words out of his mouth were, "You went and bought that little chicken-fried f*cknugget from the agency?" it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. I was a baby, not deaf. Ironically, that old potbellied fart became my role model when I grew up, because Holy Smuckeroli, the adventurers here are dumber than ducks on Sara Lee white bread. Fire-breathing dragon captured the princess? Bring a wooden sword to the battle! Kraken tearing up your ship on the open sea? Oh, a lightning spell will do nicely. Vampire Lord threatening the country? Kill it with blood magic! They collect harems of psychopaths, waltz into traps, spare bloodthirsty monsters- I'm surprised there's anyone left in the Hero business to cuss at.

The sorts of people who think 101 Ways to Die is a guidebook are also the sorts of people you can make money on. If there's one thing every aspiring hero needs, it's a girl with a level head, plenty of Band-Aids, and just enough romance to keep him puffing to Season 2. That's where I come in. For only 2 cents an hour and 3% of the total loot, the Redford Porter Service will handle all your adventuring needs. Lost in the Forgotten Woods? I got a full-color topographic map. Broke your Master Blade cutting grass? No worries, I can make you two more. Whatever moronic puzzling predicament you find yourself in, I gotcha covered.

Swindle me, though, and I got a bullet with your name on it.

[User]
Violet hears the sound of cracking bones as her ball makes contact with the head attacking Sierra leaving only the head that lies in front of her. It had to struggle to look up near her meaning it couldn't react in time. Her dagger struck true as she rammed into the head with all her force. It was a bit jarring to come to a complete stop but the head... cushioned... the fall? Nevertheless the two heads are taken care of and now attention goes back to it's original- She then feels something under her heel. She sees the head looking right at her, mouth open. Violet knew what it meant but it was too late to dodge. Violet attempted to cover herself but to no avail as the black ichor spewed forth.

Violet wipes and opens her eyes and all of the heads are gone. All she sees are Kite Walker and Sierra together in the middle of the halls slightly ahead of her. She stands up and pats herself off and starts to walk over to the group. 'Looks like we made it out alive guys. I really thought we were gon-' Then Walker raises his sword to her. 'Wal-'

 "Gypsy...? This little guy told us everything about you. You're disgustingly under prepared, weak in even stature, and to sum it up... wholly useless to us." His eyes were completely filled with hatred. A darkness of familiar malice flickered behind them.

 'Bout as useless as a screen door in a hurricane. Can't even protect the one person ya was tryin' ta save.' Sierra's eyes filled with disgust looking at Violet, arching a brow in disgusted confusion.

 Kite approaches Violet and hold out his hand.
 A kite flying in the sky.
 A girl holds the string. A hand takes a hand.
 A hand lets go of the string. A wake of eyes.
 Violet is the kite.
 The kite is impaled and shorn to shreads by the beak of a dozen shapeless birds.
 A hand holds a string.
 A girl is dead, face-down and crumpled in a dirt hole.

 Violet is forced back to reality as she sees everyone now glaring with evil murderous intent. She had been betrayed by everyone she tried to become allies with. She start to back away from them in sheer horror. As she gets closer to the wall she hears

 Mah oh mah, now izint this just...unfortunate

 Violet turns around to see Keepa emerge from the cell directly behind her.

 "Ya closest frieeends...? All up an just turned th'backs on ye! Well shucks, don'y'worry..." As a head comes out of every cell surrounding Violet. "we ain'here'ta turn ah backs on ya. Tch~ We like ya so much, we could just eat... you... up"

 Violet tries to call her ball to her, currently a brighter yellow than she'd ever seen before. One of the heads reaches out and grabs the ball, pulling it close to cheek and crushes it in it's mouth.

 "No more of that now. If you wanna wallop us, ya gonna haf ta do i'cha-self..."

 All the heads begin closing in on her as she looks up and sees Walker, Sierra, and Kite walking away leaving her to her fate. Violet falls to her knees and holds her dagger out at them pathetically.

 "Oh come now...Whatcha gonna do with that? Maybe ye can help me pick ya outta meh teeths...when ahm done witcha, of course~!" As all the heads begin to swarm her.

 After a bit of a pause, Violet let's out a bloodcurdling scream. She lies in the middle of the room in the fetal position, both hands on her head as she sits there crying and screaming. Her ball shifts to a brighter yellow than it had been before and makes its way back to her but unlike before, this one slams into her knocking her back towards the wall as it rolls away on the ground still shining a blinding yellow. She no longer has any concern or sense of anything going on around her. She just sits there, crumbling, pitiful and afraid.

[Assistant]
Walker had been figuring out how over their heads they were right now, all things considered. The flaunting and fiasco that Violet was undertaking, leading to a face full of whatever that vomit was thrown up, the woman with that flashy magic tool firing blast after blast as she tried to get Kite back and cleaned up. The blade work grew more spiteful, remaining the last one to fall back as the others backed up. The fact they could keep backing out, well, was a good sign. "Keep laughing Keeper, it's the best medicine for those heads you've had wounded so far mate."

 The good news of a path of escape opening up was lost by the sudden shrieking and sobbing from the gypsy woman, and he scowled and groaned to himself. Of all the times to lose their cool, now was not the time, even if it was probably a side effect of that goop. However, given the response that was going on from Keeper, he knew they didn't have time to clean her up and dust her off quite yet. Sheathing the sword, and hanging onto the torch, he turned and bolted, skidding to a halt next to Violet and taking a knee. "Right, you two, take the torch and move! I got our panicking companion."

 Tossing the torch towards the other two, Walker quickly picked up Violet, the fetal position making it easier to get her up, though the jarring against the bolt embedded in his shoulder making him grimace, and once he had her braced, picked up the shining yellow crystal ball as well and started moving as fast as he could while carrying Violet in her panicked state as well as keeping a hand on that stupid yellow crystal ball. If he'd been able to, he would have also carried the torch, but between his shoulder, carrying another person, and her kit, well, he couldn't do everything. Regardless, they needed to move, getting her back into the waking world would have to wait.