[System]
Age: 14

Appearance: Normal
Transformed

Wish: "I wish I was the best magical girl in the world"

Soul Gem Color: Green

Powers: Her powers are twofold. For the first, her general abilities are above the norm for the average magical girl, in terms of speed, strength, and the like.

The other is Mimicry, the ability to copy another Magical Girl's powers after seeing it. She can't permanently take them on, and can only take on one power at a time without significant strain on herself and her body.

Weapon: A swordstaff which can separate into a short sword and a mace

Personality: Miyako is outwardly friendly, confident to the point of being cocky, and a generally open person. She tends to show off in fights, especially when there are others around, though more on the side of flashy than reckless She sees herself as the best, and wants others to know it and treat her as such.

She cares for her friends and is always willing to play the part of a listening ear or to help out if needed, as long as she is secure in her own beliefs. At the same time, her outward personality serves as a mask she keeps over her inner feelings. But she doesn't let those come to the surface, lest she fall into the fugue that held her before. And so long as she has her beliefs, she will be fine.

Bio: The oldest of several brothers and sisters, Miyako grew up believing that she had to be a good role model, to be the best and serve as an example. It was a self given role, though her parents certainly had high hopes. And she managed it, for a while at least. Good grades, friends, that sort of thing.

Then high school began and everything got harder. She found herself not as talented, having to work. Beyond that, there were people more skilled and better than her. Even her own siblings were surpassing her, at least in her mind. Sure, she had her high points, but no longer was she the bright person she thought she was. depression weighed, and it was at that point that she was approached to become a magical girl.

It was an easy choice, and she took it. She became a magical girl, and practically devoted her free time to the job. Her grades might suffer a bit as a result, but she could see how important it was, and she was determined to excel as it. And that she has done, establishing herself as a Magical girl. And if she has her way, it will stay like that.

Theme: Credens Justitiam

Other:

[User]
The clash of blades ringing and steel sparks flying filled the rooftops of Miso City. Akame ran parallel to her sword bearing enemy, slicing about and countering each strike faster than any swordsman. Likewise, the Primordial facing her kept up with equal speed and lurched forward to push her back with exceeding strength.

Their blades locked together, Akame kicked the knight back before gripping her sword with two hands. Moving her arms upward, she clenched her weapon tighter and swung it downwards into an arc. A crescent wave of flame was hurled directly at the Primordial. Skidding on the roof with its gauntlets, the creature make a quick recovery and held itself in its own battle stance.

With one foot outward, the Primordial gave out a mighty bellow as it too copied Akame's exact motions, launching back its own attack. Instead of flame however, a wave of pure, golden energy met with the wall of fire. Akame narrowed her eyes and grit her teeth slightly, ready to dodge if the clash of power resulted into an explosive convergence.

Seconds passed before her predictions were proven true, the ground rumbling beneath her feet as the two bursts of opposing energies finally collapsed upon each other and forced both combatants backwards. Smoke was everywhere but Akame made sure to keep herself moving. Her dark coat made it easier to camouflage herself in the plumes and it was only a matter of moments before she sensed the Primordial. With its back turned towards her, searching in the dark mist, Akame leapt into the air and shot down like a bullet, ready to pierce its black heart.

"W-What?"

Akame's sword was met with nothing but air. Surprised, she parted the smoke instantly with a mighty wave of her hand and just caught the last glimpses of her enemy. The knight Primordial was being enclosed in what looked like a line in reality, sucked in and departing from her sight before the line closed in the shape of an eye.

A soft giggling filled Akame's ears and she turned around to see the one that had caused such a phenomena. This Primordial had long flowing hair coupled with a dark gray and purple dress. A large parasol was held in one hand while a small, Japanese fan was held in the other. They floated in the air gracefully, as if it were some divine being from the cosmos.

"So you're the real enemy here," Akame mused, pointing her blade at the newcomer. "Nice trick you got there. I bet you have plenty more if that powerful presence of yours is anything to go by."

The Primordial giggled once more in response to that, opening up more eye-like portals for the coming battle. Akame tensed a little, knowing that for some reason this Primordial was significantly more powerful than the others. That meant it was more intelligent…and more dangerous. She realized that she might need some assistance for this one.

Hopefully help would come in time.

[Assistant]
Yuna dashed at the white magical girl, trusting her spear at her chest, but the other girl blocked Yuna's attack with another shield spell and prepared to counterattack with another wave of guided light balls.

"Just as I expect" Yuna said while disengaging her spear and spinning her body, summoning a crown shaped ice formation to protect her of the sledgehammer-like magical blasts, following the attack by stabbing her spear on the ground causing the ice crown to burst and shoot sharp splinters of ice everywhere.

The white primordial blocked the ice blast with another shield and flash stepped to where Yuna was standing, trying to slam the frost magical girl with another blow of her staff, only hit an ice clone, losing her balance momentarily.

Yuna had used the explosion to cover herself in a flurry on snow and ice, while jumping away from the primordial and now used her small advantage to dash at it from behind, trying to finish the fight as fast as she could. Just as she was about to make contact, Yuna spun her spear and an arced wave of icicles shot from the ground up aiming for the primordial's left flank, while Yuna delivered a roundhouse kick at its right. "Block this!"

The staggered primordial howled as she was both stabbed and hit by a concrete splitting kick at the same time. Blood began to paint her tarnished white dress in a deep crimson color. However, it wasn't about done yet and countered by slamming Yuna with her staff thrice in rapid succession, breaking some of Yuna's ribs and rupturing some of her organs, causing the frost magical girl to spit a stream of fresh blood as she rolled for several meters on the cold pavement.

Yuna got up and cleared the blood from her cheeks, she knew that if she didn't made quick work of this primordial she had big chance of dying. The frost magical girl closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the stabbing pain from her broken ribs gritting against her lungs awakened her fighting spirit, and when she exhaled a could of frost left her mouth and her eyes were as sharp as those of a tigress ready to finish her prey in one fell sweep.

The primordial ignored Yuna's second wind and shot another beam of pink destruction, trying to erase the magical girl from existence in one attack. At the same time it shot another wave of light balls to try to trap Yuna on the beam's path.

Yuna smirked "You're going to need more than that, to kill me" and dashed with an speed unseen up to now, barely a blur in the middle of a snow flurry that suddenly hit the parking lot. She flashed behind the primordial and delivered a blindingly fast barrage of stabs and kicks, finishing her assault by spinning her spear and summoning a large icicle to stab the primordial's chest. "If I die here I'll never be able to see Elise and the others again. I'll not allow that, not after finding something precious to me after so many years walking the world alone."

The primordial's world turned red, not with the wounds, no, they could and would be ignored. Even losing an arm, or both, was nothing but a flesh wound to a creature such as they. What made her world turn red was rage, burning anger for seeing the smile on the magical girl's face. Why was she so full of hope after being battered like that? Has the bashing bring about the hidden masochist on the girl's heart, or she did remembered something that gave her this miraculous second wind? Nah... it didn't mattered, all that it needed to was to kill and consume this girl's flesh, the tears of despair coming from her broken delusions would be the perfect spice to such a meal. So it roared and discarded the cumbersome weapon it was wielding pouncing at Yuna with its bare claws and shark-like teeth, hoping to rip the frost magical girl's throat off of her neck.

"Finally revealed your true colors, huh? A shame it won't work." Yuna said as she met the primordial charge with spinning kick, sending her flying backwards. Right at that time Yuna's body shuddered with a bad feeling coming from the direction Akame went to "Could it be?"

The primordial's rage was turned into pure wrath as it got up and charged at the distracted magical girl, roaring and howling like a maddened demon.

"I don't have more time to lose here" Yuna said when the primordial was almost upon her. She hit the beast with the shaft of her spear sending it reeling backwards and to end the fight... "May God have your soul. Now, die!" the frost magical girl yelled as she launched her strongest attack, throwing her spear which broke into thousands of steel shards mid flight and reduced the primordial's body to a blood stain on the pavement.

"Akame, Akame, are you well? Hold on, I'll arrive there as soon as I can." Yuna said telepathically as she dashed to the location of their leader, ignorant to the fact that the primordial she just killed didn't turned into a black rock as usual , but instead on a miniature magic circle. The meaning of this only time would be able to tell.


[System]
Age:
28

Gender:
Female

Race:
Human

Nationality:
Orlesian

Group Affiliation:
Inquisition

Occupation:
Bard (Assassin)

Equipment/Weapons:
Erika has a balanced longbow with an ice enchantment and her quiver of bows that sits comfortably on her back. At her side, a satchel sways slightly with her gait, it's contents vary from day to day. On her hip is a leather sheath, within it lies a silver dagger, ornate with Ferelden engravings.

Bio:
Erika was born in Orlais, though she never grew up to live a prestigious life as most do in the empire. The endless balls, parties, dinners, and formals were never Erika's form of entertainment, though being the daughter of two Fereldan merchants didn't leave much room for extravagant outings anyways. Instead, she spent her younger years with her older brother, aiding their parents with their shops and managing their goods. Her father was a weapons merchant, which up until the start of the civil war, brought in mediocre revenue. On the other hand, her mother played right into the Orlesian aristocrat's hands (and coin purses), by selling them beautiful and ornate garments and accessories. Her mother's business made up for her father's lack thereof, so the four were able to live a comfortable life.

As Erika got older, she grew bored of the merchant life. Sure, the trips the family would take into Val Royeaux for the market were exciting, but not nearly enough for a teen with a wandering soul. When her older brother left to join the Templars, Erika was truly left alone to suffer an unfulfilling life. This led Erika to grow resentful of the big whigs in Val Royeaux who pranced around without a care in the world, money flaunting everywhere while other people, like her parents, were left to work a hard life just to get by.

On her eighteenth birthday, Erika finally got the nerve to tell her parents that she was leaving Orlais to travel, first to Ferelden to see the place where her parents were born and raised. She was met with protest, but eventually, even they agreed that they could not keep her tied down. Erika left with nothing more than a rucksack on her shoulder and a dagger at her hip (a parting gift from her father). She headed down the dirt road from her home, and when she came to the end, the way to Ferelden would be on her left. Instead, she went right. To Val Royeaux.

Erika spent the next six years training as a bard near Val Royeaux. Bards were prominent in Orlais, and she found no better way to get back at the Orlesian aristocracy than to learn to pry apart every little secret that they had. She became proficient with a bow, though her father's dagger was still kept at her hip in a sheath. Erika first did freelance work, spying on whoever for whomever would pay her. Eventually, she was able to gather more noble assignments from the Chantry or the Templars, though the work of a bard can rarely be considered honorable by many people. The life of a spy suited her, and the shadows became her home. For Erika, this was her freedom.

[User]
Despite overwhelming numbers Vat-Kataris band of men followed their horned leaders show of bravery; quickly cutting their way through the sea of undead they reached the large manmade gate effectively cutting off any possibility of being flanked. Upon reaching the thick barricade doors they were met with the sight of two well dressed mages-the two of which looked shortly out of breathe as if they had just ran here. It was clear by the looks on their faces that they were far more surprised to see Vat-Katari and his men then vice versa.

The slightly older of the two didn't hesitate, raising his staff upwards into the air he summoned forth a wall of ice; the huge glacial display violently bursting out of the ground caught a fair number of Vat-Kataris men off guard-instantly trapping all those that had been hugging extremely close to the barricade wall in a permanent state of icy death.

"Collin, retreat and warn master Claren that there are indeed intruders at the front." The older mage who'd just summoned the ice wall barked at his younger counterpart-his eyes solely focused on the gate doors.

"But the master said not to-" Collin began speaking hesitantly, only to be cut off by the older man.

"Damnit Collin," He summoned a ball of fire in his free hand. "If you don't leave now ill kill you myself. I can handle things here-I have been looking for an oppurtunity to prove myself."

[Assistant]
The sound of metal crushing hollow bones echoed through out the cave as Vat-Katari and his men raged against the undead mass that encircled them. They may have been stricken with fear a mere few moments ago but the bandits fought with the ferocity of starved mabari, cutting their way through the shambling corpses as they made their way to the barricade. Vat-Katari himself seemed to be having a grand old time as he lobed volley after volley of explosive balls of fire into the horde, igniting whole scores of undead like fire wood. He let out quite the blood thirsty laugh as he grabbed one of the undead, it attempted to stabbed him with its rusted and broken sword, by the throat and hoisted it into the air. The corpse was that of what use to be some young fair haired farm wife, seeing as she was currently festering with maggots and had a quiver's worth of arrows lodged into her chest she had most likely seen better days.

A wicked grin grew on the Kossith's face as he eyed the decomposing foe he held. His hand then erupted in flame, the undead young woman along with it. It wasn't a moment later that Vat-Katari hurled the now vaguely human shaped inferno back into the horde, engulfing a whole line of the undead in flames. "HA HA HA! IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" He exclaimed victoriously before he began yet again to throw balls of fire into the crowd. He and his men had made a good dent in the horde and managed to force their way all the way to the barricade with out experiencing any losses, Vat-Katari was beginning to think that this was going to turn out to be quite the easy raid.

As tradition his hopes for simplicity were dashed just as they had formed, this time in the form of a few of his men finding themselves quite dead do to being frozen solid. As Vat-Katari turned to inspect what just happened he was able to catch the brief argument between what could only be two Tevinter mages, one of which was already fleeing back down the cave while the other one looked quite ready for battle. "Oh you have just made a huge mistake..." Vat-Katari said before he stomped his massive metal boot covered foot, after which the ground in front of him began to violently shake and crack to the point that the ice wall along with his frozen former comrades shattered. He gave a crooked smile to the now exposed mage before he spoke. "It has been quite some time since I got to kill a Vint. Guess I am going to have to change that aren't I?" With that said Vat-Katari then launched himself forward with enough speed and force that if he hit the mage would be little more than a pile of broken bones and ripped flesh.

[User]
"Agents, then - very well." Clara acknowledges with a nod of understanding. She fell silent to continue listening to the rogue - learning of matters such as the red lyrium mines and the Venatori. "Venatori, as in the Tevinter Cultists? They act against Ferelden?" Clara went on to query before taking a moment to pause then speaking further, "The presence of red lyrium is also a concern - it may be best to destroy the tunnel network. Red lyrium is the likes of evil and abomination and would be best purged from the Maker's worl-." She would go on, with the imagination suggesting that she might even lead into the Chant of Light, before faint red light came from the tunnel ahead.

Clara's eyes, through the visor of her helm, snapped over towards the source of the red light before shifting over towards the moving dwarf. She cautiously moved up to his side - specifically, his left side - to create something of the front line of a formation for the rogue and mage behind to safely do what they do best. As the dwarf beside her brought his shield to bear, she brought her own up to her front in such a way to compliment a wall, much like the dwarf; albiet, to not quite the best effected due to the natural height difference, but still to some effect never-the-less.

Clara's eyes briefly widen then squint in concentration as the figures step into the light: shambling, red-veined creatures, something that vaguely compliments what once was of the maker's creation - or rather, abominations. If she wasn't bound by duty from the mention of red lyrium, she certainly was now: she drew her longsword from her scabbard with a telltale rasp before bringing it to her side, the flat of the blade parallel to the ground and held high alongside the shield - in such a way to allow both defensive thrusts and offensive strikes from the shoulder with the benefit of sound defense.

As the dwarf called out to the Warden Mage, Clara spoke to herself, her voice subtly echoing throughout the tunnel in a way to make it more than likely audible to the party.
"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." With her quiet prayer concluded in the face of abominations, she braced for the oncoming combat.

[Assistant]
Listening idly to the conversation, Nolan was rather amused by the persuasive tone which the dwarf took on, taking note of the explanation they were given. It seemed fairly simple, a Lyrium mine which needed clearing, then of course there was the mention of the Venatori. Nolan already disliked people from the Imperium, so the cultists who had started acting up in the area were not a group held any sympathy for - but he was smart enough to know they weren't a group to be trifled with. Similarly, Nolan was more than aware that Red Lyrium was not something to be trifled with, having been from Kirkwall, he was aware of the corruption it could spread, and he'd encountered it more than a few times since he'd begun his peacekeeping.

Listening to the group discussion, Nolan's eyes drifted down the cave as the sound of shuffling grew along with the red light, more than aware of what was coming. Before Flint even called out toward him, Nolan shifted his free hand up to the fire in his hand, swirling his hand about it as the ball grew in ferocity and size, waiting for the two warriors among them to ready themselves for the oncoming battle as the mob would reveal themselves. Not bothering to wait for Clara to finish her prayer, Nolan thrust his hand outward, the fireball flying over the dwarf as it would slam into one of the corrupted miners from the front, exploding in a large ball of flame, engulfing another one of the mob in flame as they fell to the ground, providing the cave with some light as the shamblers slowly died, their screams filling the cavern as Nolan took hold of his staff with a flourish.

"Apologies in advance for the smell." Nolan quipped in a matter-of-fact manner, shifting his staff in his hands as he made another flourish, swinging it so the tip pointed outward, a much smaller ball of flame flying outward as it collided with another member of the mob, not quite having the same effect as the larger fireball, but setting the man's clothes alight as he continued his crazed, shambling march toward the group. Twirling his staff in his hands, he let it shift to his side once more as he lowered his free hand to his side, beginning to prepare another, larger spell - allowing his companions to join the fight themselves for the time being.

Nolan had been hoping for a far more simple job, especially seeing the Templars he and Clara had been sent to deal with were already dead, but this day was shaping up to only become more and more complicated - all Nolan could do at this point was hope that it did not get any worse. But then again, the chances of that now were slim to none.


[System]
Crown Prince of Whitehaven

"I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me."

Age:
20 years old

Personality
⚜ Arrogant ⚜ Brash ⚜ Proud ⚜ Conceited ⚜

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Adrian is spoiled and arrogant. He was raised with the knowledge that when the time comes, no one will inherit the throne but him. Because of this, he believes that no one else is as important as he is, except for the king and queen and his younger brother, Prince Adam. He treats the castle staff as nothing more than servants and almost rarely pay them any attention except when he needs something.

In truth, he lack of self confidence to rule a kingdom and compensate with a grand show of overconfidence. The only one aware of his self doubt and shortcomings is his brother.

He tries his best to be just to his subjects but his overconfidence gives the people mixed feelings about him as a future ruler.

Brief History:
Queen Anne had always wanted children. "Four or more," she always said. But when she married King Thomas, they tried to conceive time and again but all pregnancies ended in miscarriage. Consult with doctors always ended inconclusive. The queen had nothing wrong with her. She was the picture of perfect health. And so the royal couple tried again and again but the children all died before coming to term. Depressed and hopeless, the queen finally sought consult with a Mystic, who taught her meditation and gave her a concoction of herbs to take. On the fourth night after the full moon, she was to drink water from Whitehaven's holy river, Adria.

Following the Mystic's instructions, the Queen found herself with child a few months later. Trying not to be too excited, she made sure she did not exert herself too much, staying in bed most times. She feared that she would lose the baby the way she had the past pregnancies but miraculously, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy nine months later. She named the baby Adrian. King Thomas was overjoyed and the whole kingdom rejoiced through a festival that lasted for weeks.

Being a precious child after many miscarriages, Adrian was spoiled, given everything he desired and asked for. He was well educated and being the first born, it was ingrained in him that he will ascend to be King when the time came. Knowing how important he is to both his parents and the whole of Whitehaven, he became arrogant and brash. He thought of the lower class people as nothing more than slaves and servants, existing only to do as he wished. As a result, the people in the kingdom feared that he might end up being a tyrant, most only serving him because of fear and not of loyalty.

Two years after Adrian's birth, the queen and the king was blessed with another male child. This boy they named Adam.

Adam grew up the complete opposite of Adrian. He was humble and kind, never thinking himself above anyone else. But despite the difference in manner and opinion, Adrian was fond of his younger brother and spent most of his time with him by his side. The bond of brotherhood eventually mellowed down the crown prince by a bit. Adam became his confidant and advisor.

Soon the people of the kingdom became divided in their opinions. A big number of them wanted Adam to inherit the throne despite knowing that Adrian was the rightful heir, being the first born. A small number believed that Adrian would be able to rule well with his brother by his side. And those in the middle found themselves having mixed feelings about who would be the better king.

[User] The wide smile that appeared on Alessandra's face at the mention of Adam's name was not unnoticed by Adrian's eyes. He felt a little annoyed by it but he pushed the thoughts away. A thoughtful, far away look settled over his face as he turned his eyes towards the clear blue horizon. His thoughts were obviously on the events that had transpired a month ago by what he said next. "Would it not have been better for both Whitehaven and the people if I had not made it back alive then? Adam would do well to lead the people into a prosperous future. The people all believe it and they clamor for it. But since my father follows strict Havensworth tradition, he will not just cast me aside and let Adam inherit his throne," he said almost a little absent mindedly, as if he was just voicing out his thoughts rather than actually conversing with Alessandra.

[Assistant] Alessandra furrowed her eyebrows at his talk, mistaking it for a conversation. She blinked a few times before turning to face Adrian with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. "Prince Adrian, I am disappointed you think that way. It had just been an unfortunate event that stopped you from continuing your path of gaining the people's acceptance. I am sure the moment you go back to your tasks and connect more with your people, they would be waiting for your reign more than anything else. You have been blessed to not have died on that event-- take advantage of that. Don't-- Don't dwell on it." She firmly said as she shook her head.

[User] Adrian blinked at Alessandra as she scolded him. He didn't realize he spoke his thoughts out loud and he raised an eyebrow back at his handmaiden. "I had no idea you thought me fit to be king, he said. He had long gotten used to being scolded every once in a while by Alessandra. At first it had annoyed him that someone in her rank would dare to scold a prince, the crown prince at that. But as he spent more time with her, he learned that it was at these outbursts that he hears her honest thoughts. He shook his head. "Not all people think the way you do." A cheeky grin spread across his face. "Oh, and of course, I know that I was blessed to have another chance at life. I am thankful for it, do not think otherwise. If I had died then, I would have missed being scolded by you. That would be most disappointing."

[Assistant] Alessandra sighed and shook her head. "Of course I see you fit to be king." She mumbled as she inwardly rolled her eyes, knowing she had never really made it known that she saw a future king in him. Alessandra had usually stopped scolding Adrian or speaking out her mind, but at certain times, she really couldn't stop herself. It was not scolding for her sake but rather his sake and no one else's almost all the time. At his next comment she blushed and rolled her eyes jokingly. "You know-- Five years from now, if I am lucky enough and get married, or even if I am just let go so a younger, smarter handmaiden could serve you, you will remember times like this. And someone like this who dared to be honest with you." She said, and she hoped he would really understand and believe that was true.

[User]
In a way, Adrian was surprised at how much closer he had gotten to Alessandra. When she had arrived, he had been so against the idea of having her follow him around that he had been purposefully mean towards her to drive her away and make her beg the Queen to assign her somewhere else. But her persistence and her patience at dealing with him was commendable. She had endured all his snide remarks. Once in a while he caught her rolling her eyes at him but it had surprisingly amused him instead of angering him like he expected. Because of it, he had time and again goaded her to elicit an amusing response. In the end, he had to admit that her constant presence beside him offered him comfort and entertainment. Something he would never admit publicly.

"Five years from now, you will most probably still be stuck beside me as I am not planning on letting you go," he said and then cleared his throat when he realized he had just spoken out his honest thoughts. "Of course if you desire freedom from the castle, I would consider it, he hurriedly added as he walked towards his horse. He hoisted himself up into the saddle effortlessly. "I believe it is time to return to the castle. I would like to speak with the king about the tasks I would resume responsibility for."

[Assistant]
As I am not planning to let you go. The sentence kept repeating in her head multiple times as she blinked, trying to make sense of it. Had he really said so? Alessandra stared at Adrian, dumbfounded as her cheeks flushed a deep color of red. He really did say it; Had she been more used to him, she would have giggled at his attempt to cover up that he had really admitted that he wouldn't let Alessandra go. Alessandra knew it probably meant her service, but in a way, she still felt special.

Alessandra nodded silently as she also got on her horse with less ease than Adrian, but she had gotten a lot better. "I wish you the best of luck, Prince Adrian." She commented before they rode away.

[User]
The castle was bustling with activity when Adrian and Alessandra rode in. The servants all took time to bow to Adrian as he walked past them but it was obvious that they were all frantic as they hurried about. Thinking that Adam was back and that he would report directly to the King, Adrian went straight to the throne room. But Adam was not there. Instead, he saw a woman with long black hair wearing a red hang bok standing in front of both the King and Queen, handmaidens and guards flanking her.

Queen Anne's face lit up at the sight of Adrian, "There you are, Prince Adrian. Come closer and meet Princess Hye Jin of Gyeongsang."

Realization washed over Adrian's face as he realized that this was probably the Princess he had been arranged to marry. He had originally expected that his father would strike up an alliance with either Bareahard or Connelly but the king apparently had greater, more ambitious plans. This Princess came from a long way away. And from what Adrian remembers from his studies, her kingdom was one of the most powerful in the world.

The King looked towards Adrian. "Come forward, Adrian," he commanded.

Adrian obeyed and walked forward. As he stood next to the King's throne, his father looked to the herald and nodded his head in silent command. The herald bowed his head. "May I present Princess Wang Hye Jin of Gyeongsang, the second princess of the House of Wang. Princess, let me present to you Prince Adrian Havensworth, crown prince of Whitehaven."

As the herald finished his intriduction, the Princess smiled prettily and gave Adrian a graceful curtsy. "I am pleased to meet you, Prince Adrian," she said in a heavy accent.

The surprise that had been on Adrian's face a few seconds ago was replaced by a confident smile. He stepped forward, smoothly took the Princess' hand and kissed the back of it. "It is an honor to meet you, Princess Hye Jin," Adrian's voice sounded as confident as he carried himself. "I can imagine the weariness from the long journey you have undertaken to get to Whitehaven," he looked to his father.

King Thomas nodded in approval as the Queen began speaking again. "I had the servants prepare your room to make you as comfortable as possible, Princess Hye Jin. I hope it is to your liking."

Hye Jin gave the Queen and King another curtsy. "I am sure that it will be, Your Majesty." He turned towards Adrian, a shy smile on her face. "If you will allow me, Prince Adrian. I would like to freshen up. And then perhaps have you show me around after?"

"Of course," Adrian smiled back politely.

The queen's handmaiden bowed low to Hye Jin before leading her, her handmaiden and her guards to the room prepared for her. As soon as the princess had left the throne room, King Thomas addressed his son. "I am aware that you have expected an alliance with Bareahard or Connelly, Adrian. But an alliance with Gyeongsang will be more fruitful as they have the same interest as Whitehaven. Princess Hye Jin might not be the crown princess but the House of Wang would still pledge allegiance to us through your marriage. The King of Gyeongsang have already chosen a date for your wedding. It shall be in six months time hence you have until then to familiarize yourself with each other."

[Assistant]
Alessandra was surprised that Prince Adam had returned so early; He wasn't expected until the evening or so she thought. She couldn't contain her excitement as she smiled widely at the idea. She had read more into many of the political issues and historical issues, improving greatly, and she couldn't wait to share her newly found knowledge and opinion with Adam, who was basically the only person who cared enough to enlighten Alessandra. She glanced at Prince Adrian as they made their ways through the castle hallways, heading to the Throne room. Not once had she given her opinion or voiced her thoughts-- Politically-- around Adrian, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate it. She found herself craving slightly the interest Adam gave her but from Adrian. She felt her cheeks heat up slightly-- Such a silly thought.

She followed closely behind Adrian into the Throne room. She was surprised to find a very-- breath catching Princess standing there in front of the King and Queen. Her chest tightened as her thoughts got confirmed. It was Adrian's arranged wife. Alessandra suddenly felt self conscious in her horse riding attire and hair in a high ponytail. She gulped slightly as the Princess addressed Adrian with so much femininity and shyness that it made Alessandra inwardly roll her eyes. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. She found the realization hit her; Was that Adrian's type of woman? Alessandra was no where as feminine, shy, or polite. Her chest tightened even more as she stared at Adrian. His expression did not change much, but something told her that he may actually like such a respectable lady-- Of royal blood, beautiful, and a perfect representation of feminine.

If I was to marry someone like you, a commoner.. The words from a few months ago popped up in her head. She shook her head: She was just serving Adrian, and he only appreciated her and saw her as that. Only.

For an unknown reason, it made her heart hurt.

Alessandra bowed slightly to the Princess as she took her leave with her handmaiden and guards. She listened closely to the King. Only six months. She thought as she felt disappointment settle in her. She looked back at Adrian.

''Congratulations your majesty. This is such a great step, a beautiful lady too.'' She beamed as they took their leave: Despite her sense of disappointment and somewhat underlying anger, she did genuinely feel happy for Adrian.


[System]
Huntsman Sheet"Fufufu~ What's wrong? Gonna cry?"

Whereas her sister and mother are stoic and calm-hearted, Caramelle decidedly takes after her late father.

The brown-haired girl has no patience or sense of time. Her blood runs hot and her tongue runs hotter. She's impulsive, headstrong, and arrogant with a sense of berating others for even the smallest annoyances and grievances. In Vacuo you speak your mind or you get run over, a sentiment she has continued to remind herself since she was a little girl. She absolutely detests that her older sister for all of her brilliance takes a lazy, slothful approach to life. After all, if you don't give 100% all the time do you even deserve to survive in such an environment? Her father had died for dropping his guard around the wrong people and she refuses to belittle his memory by lowering hers. Friends only end up stabbing you in the back. You don't need friends. You need walls. The more you keep people at distance the sooner you can predict their movements against you.

Her mother obviously doesn't think such a belief bodes well, but the damage of their past has done what it has. She hopes that Caramelle can grow as a person and learn that trusting people isn't inherently stupid.

Caramelle speaks louder than her diminutive height suggests. She's on the shorter end of students at Shade Academy with her sandy hair that resembles the desert environment around her strewn into two distinct tails with simple black wrappings. Her bangs are messy, though not unkempt. Her eyes are brown as well, though a scar runs down her right eye from a past altercation. She always appears to have one or two distinct expressions: one of amusement or one of annoyance. She is not stoic like the majority of her family.

---
Aliases / Nicknames
Mel
Gender
Femme
Age
16
Kingdom of Origin
Vacuo
Race
Human
History
Caramelle is the youngest daughter of famed huntsman, Walnus Tawne and retired huntress Hunie Merigold.

Caramelle's childhood was situated going from place-to-place, always on the move after her father's untimely death by a rogue huntress when she was eight years old. Her mother took her and her older sister, Aes, from settlement to settlement as she tried to fill the void. Jobs were scarce, but her mother used to be a huntress so money wasn't too troubling to find, though food came and went. There were days when there wouldn't be enough food in the household and her sister would find ways to fill the void while their mother was out working.

Caramelle was eight years old and her entire world had been taken from her. Her father had taught her about the huntsman academies, the responsibility against the Grimm, and the glory of protecting Vacuo from whoever tried to impose their will upon it. Every time he came home from collecting another bandit's feather in his cap he would tell her a story, a fairytale about a cool huntress and the things she'd do. After the funeral there was no one to tell the stories to her and her sister. There was only the cold corridors of whatever place they were living in at the time. Her mother sold the family home and tried to keep the girls together. Eventually, the reality of being a single parent on menial income hit all three of them and her mother sent the girls packing to her father who was working out of Coquina. Neither girl would see their mother again for years, only receiving their allowance with a conjoined letter in the mail.

Oleum Merigold was not a kind caretaker. That aside, Caramelle didn't know much about her maternal grandfather. He was cold and ruthless in his diction and how he expected the girls to behave, though he never used physical discipline. The passing of his wife some years ago had left him bitter and solitary, though he earned a decent wage working out of Oscuro Academy as one of the long-standing instructors. While not students themselves, Caramelle's adventurous and curious nature made her shadow Oleum and his students, musing about weapons and how real huntsman and huntresses got their start at being heroes of Vacuo. Her sister took a passing interest with her, but ultimately it was mostly just her sitting on a rock observing the more outdoors-inclined instruction. Soon enough she found herself proclaiming herself to be a new "huntress recruit" long before she was of age as she annoyed the local townsfolk of Coquina.

There was a lot of yelling. Sometimes older kids trying to put her in her place. Sometimes some thugs who thought the huntsman were too busy at the academy to bother in the town. Caramelle got hurt, but not before her own sister unlocked her aura before her to block the next strike. It would be enough to distract the thugs until a local huntress arrived on the scene and gave the two a lecture. A lecture that would be preceded by their grandfather's own later that same night. A lecture that would lead the old huntsman to begin training them informally until they were ready to join the academy proper—if they really wanted to waste their lives in following in their father's stupid shadow.

Years followed. Caramelle and Aes entered Oscuro Academy. They got their weapon tools and their training. Eventually, it was enough to get them into Shade Academy.

That's where Caramelle's story begins.
Semblance
Known as 'Terra Viribus', throughout the Tawne bloodline, Carobelle's semblance is about redirecting the kinetic energy in the earth into her body to strengthen her body or quicken her reflexes. While her sister uses this in a defensive manner, Carobelle looks to create creative offensive sets. The requirement is clear however that she has to either conserve the energy gathered from the earth or to be standing on the ground with at least one foot to utilize it effectively.
Weapon & Fighting Style
Carobelle wields Gravity's Spiral, dual swords that transform into a dual automatic revolvers.

In terms of how she uses it within her fighting style, she prefers the close combat forte of Gravity's Spiral's melee form, though when she needs to fight from range she does so with rapid succession rather than slow precise strikes. This is extended to when she's using the melee form of the dual swords, relying mostly on a flurry of speed as opposed to how her sister uses her weapon with precision and strength.
Strengths & Weaknesses
* Talented Weapons Combatant and Melee Fighter.
* Brave and Headstrong, capable at taking on enemies and adapting as the battlefield requires.
* Keen battlefield awareness, though hindered by impulsive decision-making.
* Visual learner; effective at learning from enemies and allies fighting styles by seeing it.
* Capable of following orders despite personality issues.
* Informal huntress training from age nine to fourteen and formal training at the combat school known as Oscuro Academy; making her a more refined combatant than those who are newer to the skillset.

* Arrogant and Brash, leading to impulsive and insensitive decisions.
* Prefers speed over power and precision; resulting in sloppy maneuvers.
* Not book smart; struggles paying attention to technical data not presented like folktales.
* Aura abilities are unlocked but only as the baseline level.
* Does not trust or particularly work well with others. Is standoffish.
* Paranoid. Will need character building and organic friendships to get past her trauma.

Fatal Flaw
Caramelle's greatest weakness is her paranoia. Compounded with her own prescient smug arrogance and attitude it leads the young huntress to make not only short-sighted and impulsive decisions but also refuse to trust people. She constantly suspects her peers are enemies-in-waiting, people who will pull out a knife and plant it into her back once it is profitable and convenient to do so. Her loud, prickly nature is a defense mechanism that certainly will make more enemies than allies.

[User]
---

This was Rio's first battle against the Grimm. No fantastical story or training dummy could have ever prepared him for the rush of adrenaline that he had felt just now. The tactics of teammates and his own quick trigger finger had seemingly won them the fight. No one was visibly hurt and, after inspecting himself for bite marks, he could include himself in that count. Yet, his heart was still racing even as the creatures in front of him started to dissolve from their fierce, monstrous figures into a shapeless ooze that looked like it belonged at the bottom of a saloon spit bucket.

A sigh of relief would soon escape Rio's tensed body as it became clear that they had repelled the initial wave of Grimm but his fingers were still frozen in place as he gripped his weapon. Instead of easing his hold, his hands merely kept shaking even as he actively made an effort to relax. Soon enough, he had resorted to a few full breaths but this would come to a halt upon hearing Nivea's caution against the apparently toxic air. In his sudden panic, Rio instinctively covered his nose with his right forearm while rummaging through his pockets with his free hand for the kerchief that his mother prepares for his daily wardrobe. At least his vise on The Boatman's Due had loosen.

Finally covering his mouth with his makeshift mask, Rio had to focus and inform his companions on the strict timetable that his Semblance had given him. "I'm all fer sticking away from walls but we need t' move if we wanna catch 'em." Protected by the thin strip of fabric and against the caution of their handler, Rio would take another deep breath to focus in on the runaway targets. A clayish rouge of energy would manifest and envelop itself around him as the distant pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the unlit distant ground of the abandoned bunker became as thunderous as a roaring river to the Huntsman-in-training. "My Semblance is tellin' me that they're less than a click away - I'll resume takin' point."

Again, Rio's impatience would not wait for any possible objections from his team. They had a mission that needed to be accomplished and standing around this dark pit waiting to get ambushed again was not gonna get results. He would resume his earlier brisk pace once more, advancing towards the darkness in pursuit of the Grimm he managed to mark earlier.

[Assistant]
Saffron Rupalfeather

---

With the Grimm on the retreat, Saffron was satisfied that she had done an efficient job defending her side of the intersection - with Rio helping, of course. It definitely wasn't an easy battle, however; Whilst she had a little experience fighting the Grimm within primarily controlled training environments, the real thing definitely told her that despite how realistic the trainings had been at Signal they had definitely been holding back. The Signal Grimm had been fierce, but out in the real world, Grimm were ferocious. And whilst she was proud that she had managed to hold back the Grimm with her teammates, Saffron was also relieved about that fact. Hopefully things continued to be as successful as they were now.

Saffron's eyes fixed upon a corpse of one of the fallen Grimm, observing the black smoke that was rising from it. Whilst it was interesting, the Faunus took care to follow Nivea's advice and try not to breathe in the smoke. Though, within a closed environment like this, Saffron wondered if it would soon become impossible to avoid doing so. She could see why Huntsmen would have such a problem clearing a nest, particularly in even more dangerous environments than this one. If they happened to get locked in by the degraded environment, either by collapse or mechanical failures in places such as this, she wondered what the consequences be, if it wasn't an ending of death.

Taking a glance to Kohaku as she spoke, Saffron offered the girl a nod of agreement. "Good call," Saffron replies, shuffling herself to be more along the centreline of the room. She was, however, bothered by Rio's sudden wish to press on at speed - and slightly bothered by the fact that he was telling them that the Grimm were less than a click away. "Less than a kilometer? How big is bunker anyways?" She asks, starting to face Nivea, before reconsidering and turning back to the front. "Never mind, I don't want to know." She adds, starting to pursue Rio, mostly so that he wasn't running off on his own ahead of them.

[User]
---

---

The return of silence wasn't exactly comforting--Fiona half expected something else to jump out at them if they dropped their guard for even a second. Fiona backed away from the black smoke, double-checking her ammo. She did her best to be as efficient as possible, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't wasted a few shots. The Grimm moved faster than she anticipated; she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. The last thing she wanted was to end up being a burden on the team. Or worse--she'd end up being the weak point.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as a strong guest of wind blew away the smoke. Letting out a sigh of relief, she figured she should get her head back in the game. "Thank you, Kohaku," Fiona thanked her first and foremost. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Rio was eager to take point again, with his semblance revealing that there were, of course, more Grimm. She seemed to have the same thought as Saffron as the girl expressed curiosity on how big the bunker was.

"Regardless of the distance, it's best to stay on guard," She decided to remind them, taking her spot after Saffron. "This bunker seems to have been built some time ago, so there should still be a distance before reaching the depths of where the Grimm would house themselves."

After a brief pause of thought, she added, "Whatever Rio senses is likely a wandering group. Let's stay in formation as we proceed."

---

[Assistant]
Caramelle rolled her eyes as Turq and Veloce went on to explain why they wanted to become a huntsman.

Power. Strength. Money. Travel. A bunch of trivial reasons as far as she could tell, though Veloce's story about owing a debt to a huntsman was at least half-admirable. She wondered what the other member of their group would say, though frankly, she was only slightly curious about the reasoning behind it. The brown-haired girl raised a brow as she mused over her own thoughts. Was it really their business that being a huntsman was something that ran in her family? All they need to knew was she was a huntsman because she was a huntsman.

"Does it even matter?" She groaned, "I'm a huntress because I'm good at it. Who cares?"


[System]
Species: human
Age: 23
Occupation: graphic designer, freelance artist on the side

Personality: Rey is a sweet man, very concerned with the wellbeing of others. He's shy, preferring to listen rather than talk when confronted with new people. He's rather sheltered.

History: Rey always knew he wanted to be an artist. And yet there's something missing, a blandness that just won't go away. He's happy with his life...isn't he?

[User]
A low drawn-out whistle followed as Jessamine skipped down the hallway. Sitting directly behind Xell and Rey was Crispin Ocelot, a face that stood out only because he was the only one in that office wearing a hat. (There was of course the anthromorphic lizard he was sitting behind, shadowing him and learning the ways of the code - but he focused hard on his computer like every other drone in that building.) The young cat's eyes followed the squirrel until she was just about out of sight. "Kinda cute though, isn't she?"

"Do you ever. Shut. Up."

"I mean she's got the right kinda mindset. Maybe a bit too much, but I think-"

"Look." The reptile's typing came to a complete stop, catching Crispin's attention back from Jessamine. "Do you want to learn how to do this or not."

A few seconds of silence passed by before the lizard resumed typing. Crispin slowly scratched the back of his head. "Not your type, I take it?"

The lizard explained here and there which commands performed what function, and occasionally asked Crispin simple questions to confirm that he was understanding the algorithms. Which he wasn't, for the most part, but hey, fake it 'til you make it. This continued for some time, until Crispin's watch buzzed. On cue, the ocelot reached into his jacket's pocket and plucked out an orange bottle. As he went to twist open the bottle-

"Hey! I asked you a question, Ocelot!"

The sudden jump in the lizard's voice startled Crispin - he fumbled with the bottle in hand and, pretty much in slow motion, watched it drop to the ground and roll away. And since the cap had been loosened... a few pills had rolled out.

"Ah... ahaha, excuse me a moment."

He pounced from his chair to the floor and scrambled to pick up the spilled tablets, then charged for the bottle, which had rolled over to the desk next door. Xell and Rey's desk.

Suddenly he popped up onto his feet beside them, a gleaming smile in his face as he held the remaining dropped pill between his fingers. "Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

What the ocelot didn't know was that he had inadvertently grabbed Xell's pills that had spilled by his feet. And he was fairly close to reaching for his water flask to down it.

[Assistant]
Level 72, reception area

Zach was left wide eyed and mouth ajar within the femme squirrel's embrace. Mind unwilling, soul remained.
Quickly gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyebrows impetuously, his synaptic impulses told him to reach out and snap the squirrel's neck in half; like a withered twig.
Before he was able to pursue his animal instinct- he almost tumbled over as the squirrel spun and slipped away with excitement.
As he flailed ridiculously, he reached out for something to steady himself!
The nearest entity he was able to grasp was the fire extinguisher. Strongly secured by bracing on the wall.

With that action, his knees barely buckled before he was able to hoist himself back up again. Flicking his head back to get the long silver hair out of his eyes. He continued to steady himself upon the halon containing steel canister. Feeling the cold steel beneath his finger tips as the rage burnt from within.

She was a problem. Too much free reign, non compliant, unrealistic, ditzy...
What was worse, Zach had smelt a rat since the worker girl stepped through with a dainty foot in this building. Almost like she was masquerading the joint like a ballroom dancer- but why exactly had she attended? This workplace was hardly meant for a dance, or fun for that matter! Furthermore, he was outright offended on so many levels.
'Zachy...?!'
Earning the title of a pet name was a punishment that deserved open fire on the spot, Maynard thought with a growl. Surely, she was having a laugh? The incredulity of the incident was outrageous. Did she not grasp the serious nature of being beckoned to the Director's office in any of its entirety at all?

"Childish Mink," he breathed out, exasperated. Naturally he could chase her down. Wipe that pathetic smile off her face.
For he was well equipped with pharmaceuticals far more powerful than what he possessed in pill form. He drummed his fingers upon a loaded cartridge secured within his belt. Gritting his teeth as he tried to process his next action.
Or, there was another way. He was waiting for that moment. Waiting for an excuse. To initiate that process.
He was shaking. Grasping onto the canister that began to make it rattle somewhat. The former background piano music continued to prove itself relinquished.
He turned a cold shoulder to the entrance of the office, and directed his fraught face towards his desk. Eyes set on his computer, where he could 'initiate the process'.

"Zacharias Maynard." A cold voice called out from behind "not yet."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Office

Camera on

Xell blinked morbidly at the events that unravelled before him. It was certainly out of the ordinary compared to what one would anticipate as a typical workforce day. The usual regime of a dreary commute, a cocktail of pill swallowing and coal face typing for 9 hours straight became replaced by some form of life. Namely, his bashful colleague requesting if he could use his computer to render high resolution artwork. The arrival of the smutty fennec who he had recognised from an X-rated photo, and now Crispin. Who he had spoken to once or twice in the past at best. He may have had more opportunities had he been a regular at the Office but somehow, Xell didn't think that that was quite the case. For some reason.

"Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

"Gottem?" Xell queried. The dragon shoved his hands in his pockets whilst he looked to the floors and desks. He had to be talking about some belongings he dropped on the floor right? Maybe a pen, pencil… wallet? And why did he make such a snide remark about the Lizard?

"Oh right, well whatever you retrieved, glad you found it…" Xell grinned sheepishly. A bead of sweat running down his face as he remembered his own careless grasp less than a few minutes ago. He was banking on Rey carrying out his task post haste. Then he could retrieve his pills and stash them away. But then that femme showed up, who Rey was yet to acknowledge. And Crispin.
Was he a chef? A cat chef?
Xell winced as he found it extremely difficult to keep his thoughts on a consistent tangent.
Suffering from concentration problems and anxiety, he needed his dexamphetamines. More so to overcome the garbage he had been dispensed by Zach earlier. What where they? Tranquilisers? Anti depressants? Benzodiazepenes? After all, blue normally means a come down or suppressant. A means to coax a patient into a situation they would question or wouldn't normally accept.
Red or orange one may associated with a stimulant? Seize the day, live life to the maximum. Determination to press on or unravel the truth... right?
Xell was strictly told to take what he was given. Never to mix his poisons.
But....

"Hey sweets… do you wanna pull that pose again? Sure tickled my fancy!" a random voice hollered. Causing an entire row to erupt in laughter. Daring glances with a snigger directed towards Athena, whilst gossip travelled like wildfire.

"Pays the bills," Athena held her own. Paying no mind to the obnoxious crown as she waved a dismissive hand.

"Excuse me… I really… really need to find something…" Xell was getting anxious. He looked around frantically, before pacing up and down the cubicle. Athena sullen and bored by the whole display.

Before the grey dragon could utter another sentence, he couldn't help but stare as he recognised a pill about to be swallowed by the Ocelot who swung by earlier.
One of HIS pills. Orange looking paracetomol like pill with a pink grainy texture. His Adderall!

"Noooooooo…." Xell leapt in the air, hand wound backwards as he was going to attempt to smack the pill out of Crispin's mouth.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Reception

"Hmmm... I thought that may be you..." Zach was kneeled down on the ground in resentment. Having lost his cool as a phantom like presence presumably had witnessed all.

"Well, where else would I be?" The voice replied, a borderline suave but serious tone about it.

A plumage of silver hair draped Zach's face, casting his eyes in shadow just above a gritted expression on his mussel.
"I don't want to play this game anymore." The dog rose swiftly. The urge to storm out of the building a rightful retribution in his mind.

Go, don't stand in contemplation The thought passed Zach's mind.

Maynard froze. Eyes amped with constricted pupils. An assembly of shadowy men immersed from the surroundings.
Goosebumps started to streak through his skin as his fur stood on edge.

The figures had cloaked, scarves up to the orbital floors of their faces which acted as a platform for their thick black shades. Human in appearance, xenomorphic in aura.

"...They're not real," the dog uttered with contempt.

"Oh AREN'T they?" The voice mocked. Tone beckoning the assembly to step forward. Menacing facades gradually closing in upon Zach and the entity behind him.

As they emerged, cracking could be heard from tasers they were holding up.
A sweat drop pooled off of Zach's face and splashed onto the floor. His body hot but beginning to precipitate a cold sweat.

"Am I supposed to believe that just because you got knocked off your perch, that you're going to dwell on the floor with the barrel of a gun in your face?" The figure sneered, immediately replaced by a grin. Performing a quick shot imitation with his middle and index finger that aimed in Zach's direction.

"... that's what they do to sterile chickens."

Zach gave two very slow nods. A gesture of acknowledgement and disgust to conceal his defeat.

His knuckles tightened on either side of his body. A slight turn with the aid of peripheral vision revealed the reckoning standing behind him. A tall coral figure emanating a supernatural aura.
He had long perked vampiric like ears with a suave, dark cerulean parted hairstyle that framed his clean cut face. He doned a set of nature defying toxic green eyes. Irises echoing a sinister sense of arrogance and need to play cat and mouse. His demeanour and attire, clad in a leather jacket and jeans suggested his style to be very similar to the 1950s era.

Zach inadvertently shrunk as he forced himself to turn around to look at him. Like ripping a band aid off an unhealed wound.
The creature's aura was oppressive.
Zach could not even hear the harmonious splashes of the waterfalls anymore. Instead, a monotoned drone that weighed down the atmosphere.

"Aleksei?"

The creature snapped his right set of fingers. A flare igniting which he conveniently used to light up a cigarette. Taking a long drag, before exhaling fumes that rapidly started to smog the vicinity.

"I think you and I should watch the 'flagged ones' on camera. Don't you?" the devil asked "the Director would love to know their names."


[System]
Gender
Female

Age
21

Place of Birth
New Harmony

Military Branch
Army, 147th Engineer Corps

---

Appearance
Srin stands about 5'5" (165 cm) and weighs 120-ish pounds (54~ kilos). She has a thin build but makes up for it with a wiry strength that is not to be underestimated. Her skin is fairly pale and burns rather than tans when exposed to sunlight. Her face is an inverted triangular shape, with a small pointed chin and a face that widens at the cheekbones. Her nose is small, slightly upturned and the area surrounding it is covered with a few freckles. Her large eyes are a light brown that borders on amber and her thin eyebrows arch in the middle, giving her an expression of constant surprise or excitement at first glance. When she smiles, she smiles with great enthusiasm, making her mouth look fairly wide. Only her upper teeth are visible when she smiles. Several squadmates, past and present, have made fun of her smile in the past, calling it "deranged" and "creepy". Her hair is auburn with streaks of light blonde running in it and it's about as long as regulations will reasonably allow. A few locks of her hair seem to permanently hang in front of her right eye, much to her officers' chagrin.

Attire
Army BDU, CH252 Helmet, Combat knife mounted on the left shoulder, up-armoured boots

Weaponry
MA37 ICWS, M6C Magnum, M9 HE-DP grenades, M168 Demo Charges, various other explosive devices of dubious origin

Fireteam 2 Bravo 9
Sgt. Penlan - KIA
Cpl. Vjun - KIA
Pfc. Chéreau - Active
Pvt. Li - MIA

Rank
Private First Class

Specialisation
Explosives, Demolitions

---

Personality
Private First Class Chéreau is a dedicated and spirited soldier who never lets an obstacle dampen her mood. She's quick to volunteer for any kind of mission no matter the personal risk. Despite her enthusiasm she has a few quirks that set her aside from the average soldier. She seems to enjoy her job blowing stuff up a little too much. They say you can't get into demolitions without being a little crazy and in this case it's probably true. Srin also has somewhat of a daredevil streak as well, enjoying excitement and the feeling of adrenaline. However she can also come off as naive or childish due to her eternal good mood and seemingly unlucky or accident prone nature which makes her somewhat of a target for jokes and mockery, thankfully she tries to take it all in stride. The only thing that really gets under her skin is the nickname Jinxie, which she picked up after her last squad was wiped out and a string of unfortunate accidents in close proximity to her. Overall, what she lacks in brute force and sheer skill with a gun she makes up for with attitude and destructive ability with explosives.

Biography
Born on New Harmony, Srin's parents worked for a colonial construction company, where she first learned about explosives. She would sneak off and watch her parents operate controlled demolitions or the explosive clearing of land. Fire and explosives became a lifelong fascination. When she was seven years old the Battle of New Harmony took place in 2537. Young Srin watched from her backyard in total awe as one of the only UNSC victories in space unfolded right above her. Bright colours of violet and pink as well as orange and red detonated in the night sky as ships were gutted and burned in the atmosphere. She was utterly transfixed by the display of lights and eruptions and from that night forward she decided she wanted to join the UNSC.

In school she studied engineering and demolitions and apprenticed for her parents in their construction business as a teenager. It was decent work but it never really captured her imagination or really scratched her idealistic itch she had developed after the battle she had witnessed. The week she turned 18 she enlisted in the UNSC Army as a combat engineer due to her past experience. After an extended basic training she was finally deployed.

On her first deployment there was an incident with an Officer's Warthog and a few fusion coils and although Srin was nowhere near at the time and cleared of all blame officially, several persistent rumors placed her responsible. During a stint aboard a frigate, a maintenance failure had Srin almost sucked out of an airlock in the middle of orbit. Only a quick-thinking ensign saved her, and although she escaped with only a minor bruise, talk of her jinx soon grew. Even routine, expected breakdowns became blamed on her bad luck, such as guns jamming, electronics failing etc. It was around this time that she picked up her nickname. A joke at first, it eventually stuck, much to Chéreau's annoyance.

Eventually she was deployed on Fumirole along with numerous other UNSC Army elements to counter the Covenant invasion that was ongoing. It was her first combat deployment and it ended up wiping out her entire squad, leaving her with only a plasma burn to her shoulder and further cementing her reputation as bad luck incarnate. Following the battle, she was transferred to Reach for what was supposed to be a quiet deployment but, lacking volunteers and manpower, before long her unit was folded into the larger battlegroup by ONI in preparation for OP Grey Axe.

Service-History
- Battle of Fumirole: WIA

---

Affiliations
Father and Mother on New Harmony

Notable Traits
- Nicknamed Jinxie
- Wide reputation for bad luck & jinxing those around her
- Fondness for explosives
- Speaks with a distinctive New Harmony accent
- Tries to remain positive about all things

Theme Song
Found it!

[User]
Private Mudak

At first Hunter's life flashed before his eyes, then again startling a scared group of people with guns in the dark was a good way to almost get shot. Other then almost getting shot, he was first met by this mixed unit's medic. He was glad that someone like this was still alive, though she seemed rather young, or maybe it was the fast she was so short. He almost asked about her age, but remembered something a friend of his told him during basic training. Short girls are at the perfect height to punch you in the balls. So he figured he'd hold off asking her any questions like that while she was attempting to fix her up. "Sorry about all of that, commotion." Revering to just walking out of the brush without warning. "Just got excited to see other people I guess..." He walked closer to the medic, though it was at that time when he realized how close to death he actually came that day. He was covered in blood of at least two different species, and his uniform was covered in plasma burns. "The blood's not mine. I don't know who it used to belong to, but it's not mine. The burns are though. Just do something to help it from getting infected and can handle it when I get some time to sleep." He tried to speak to the medic. A couple of his words were starting to slur though, he was physically and mentally exhausted. He wouldn't let that stop him though, he was too stubborn for that. Though he did get a little bit more awake at the sight of a nice shinny needle.

He brought his attention to the ODST when he started speaking. Eventually he responded to another remark about his poor idea of walking into an armed crowed of uneasy people. "Again, sorry about that. Name's Private Hunter P. Mudak. Secondary marksmen of Birdock team. Third Marksmen of my entire squad. You need someone shot I can probably do it. Might need some more caffeine first but I can probably do it still." He was trying to sound confident, he was glad it was dark enough that no one could see his eyes. He can only imagine they are probably bloodshot by now, that happened a lot when he was stressed and exhausted.

He motioned back to the medic. "You have a name? Or is the girl working on making sure I don't die secretly a machine who is getting ready to plant a probe inside of me? Because surprisingly I am not into that kind of thing. SO knowing now would be nice." He said this jokingly, trying to make a crappy situation better.

The ODST mentioned something about moving on to a new objective. Hunter zoned out for a moment, only catching the end of it. He said something about a rally point of some kind, were they going to take out a base? Or set up an outpost of some kind? That would be a nice change of things. Hunter was motioned to again though, about guns and ammo. "I'm armed sir, rifle's a bit beaten up but it still works. And I still have a good backup if it comes to that sir, I haven't used it since I made it to the ground yet." He had another back up, but fighting aliens with a small survival hatchet didn't seem like a fun idea.

[Assistant]
---

---

At the mention of her nickname, combined with the way it was spoken, Defort and Toogood couldn't hold a short outburst of laughter. "The fuck did you do to earn that moniker?" Defort managed to stammer amongst outbursts of laughter before suddenly sobering up. "Honestly though, am I the only one who finds it unnerving that someone with that nickname is in charge explosives? And you can drop all that ceremonial nonsense, we grunts are all equal here in the mud."

During the conversation, Edward noticed the armywoman kept looking at him in a weird way. Was there something wrong with him? Perhaps his helmet suffered some damage somewhere he didn't notice? "Right, this." he snapped his fingers as the realisation finally struck him and cleared his visor, revealing his face. Despite his calm demeanor, it was clear from his expression just how exhausted and worried he was. "Harper, Edward. So, if you know about this outpost, I take it you also happen to know which way it is? Because we are a little bit lost."
"Completely lost, to be accurate." Sheridan appeared from behind Edward and joined the conversation. He removed his helmet to wipe sweat off his forehead, presenting the same troubled expression. "Do you have any idea what we can expect once we get there, like possible medical aid. Do you know how far it is, or what the terrain looks like? One of our men is injured." He gestured to Nero's leg, the right greave looked like someone dropped an anvil on it. "She has to be carried and it's getting quite exhausting, not to mention we are essentially down three people because of it, so I hope you are at least a decent shot." John slid his helmet back onto his head and was about to say something else, but stopped abruptly as a transmission came through. The entire team paused to listen to Chariot 9-4's transmission. "That settles that, then. Chéreau, I assume you heard that as well. Since you know the most about this outpost, you and Ed will take point, Wrench and Lineman will follow, carrying Miranda. Notso and I will watch our backs. Stay around five meters apart. If we come under fire, we'll hold until Wrench and Lineman get some distance, than follow. Otherwise, avoid contact. You two in the front make sure not to rush too far ahead. The sooner we get to that damn outpost, the sooner we can finally sit down and stretch our legs. If we're lucky, someone will finally tell us just what the bloody hell is happening."
The ODSTs polarised their visors again and formed according to Sheridan's instructions. Edward mustered up an encouraging smile. "After you. If you run into any trouble let us know immediately."


[System]
Age: 19

Race: Lizardman

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Lizard Fighter seems like your typical lizardfolk, huge, muscular, and intimidating. Except instead of browns and greens he's ruby red with a cream colored 'underbelly'. He stands at seven feet tall and has the build of a long time laborer, muscles rippling under that naturally tough hide. Some scars do litter his body, focused mostly in the arms and shins, except an obvious quadruple line running diagonally across his face. Barely missing his eyes.

His garb is strange for a lizard man of the deep swamps. Fingerless gauntlets that retained the fur underneath and floofed out at the elbows. A thick hide vest with a fishnet shirt underneath with the same fluffy visibles like his hand protection. Strangely made pants of leather and canvas that left open pockets at his upper thighs, probably due to his tail. Digigrade leather wrappings that had connecting iron kneepads. To hold his ensemble up is a coarse leather belt with a pair of leather bags, one at the hip the other at the small of his back for his stuff.

Height: 7'7"
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Hair Color: None

Personality:
Unlike what Lizard Fighter's gung-ho body looks like, his personality is very laid back. Preferring to lounge and watch others instead of actually doing extra activities with others. Maybe it was because of his reptilian nature, watching and being a lethargic behemoth. Although when he does interact, it's in almost a deadpan manner and incredibly blunt. The reptilian man never sugar-coated what he was saying or thinking. This lack of tact didn't earn him many friends back home.

Despite his supposed laziness, he does get riled up. It's also very easy to do so, a lazy giant with a short fuse isn't very good. This probably ties into his animalistic tendencies, at the hint of aggression or provocation he returns it in force and forcing others to restrain him from going ballistic.

Likes: Warm and Humid Climates, Exotic Foods, Wrestling and Tests of Strength.
Dislikes: Cold Climates, Physical Weakness, Being Provoked.
Hobbies: Trying New Foods, Basking in the Sun, Making Atlas Stones.

History:
Lizard Fighter had the typical upbringing of a lizardman. He was raised in the swamps to the South, learning to care for what the village had as soon as he could walk and speak. He quickly developed a deep seated need to take care of everything he earned considering certain things were harder to come by in a swamp than on dry land. Like quality metal, iron bacteria was plentiful but produced little of that hard metal. Although his people never wanted for food since they knew what to look for.

Unfortunately Lizard Fighter wasn't adept at tracking, or hunting, or gathering non-poisonous substances for the younger tribe members. Eating so much poison gave him a big boost in his resistance to it, it tended to taste good dammit...

He did excel at combat though, each member of the tribe when they reached eight started to learn basic weapon usage. It was here that he took up the lead, wrestling other youths into submission or disarming and knocking them to the ground. His people practiced with clubs, wooden spears, and claws. No metal until they were older so they didn't kill each other by accident.

Of course accidents happen. L.F's rival raked his claws across his twelve year old face, leaving deep cuts that developed into the scars he adorned today. Training and real combat were different however, so he had been sent out years later to experience the world gain the experience needed.

It was at this point L.F received an old knife and a buckler from his chief before being sent on his way. His people weren't blind to the world though and he had heard about Adventurer's. How often they fought and how far they explored. What better profession could there be for the 'savage of the swamp'. He followed rumors and directions to Palisade town, a place of beginnings for Adventurers or so they said.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
* Studded Club: A hefty piece of wood with a simple leather binding at the tapered 'grip'. In the bulky head of the club are iron rivets to help concentrate the bludgeoning force into smaller areas for higher damage. Or so the shopkeeper said...
* : A surprisingly huge blade, more like a small beefy sword than a knife, that protects the knuckles of the user with a sharpened guard. It has several cracks along the blade denoting its heavy usage along with a slightly rounded tip.
* Buckler: The smallest of all of the shields, this is strapped to his forearm to leave his hands free. It's a thin piece of iron, dinged up and slightly rusted, with the typical bubble in the middle to ease impacts.
* Leather Attire: Adorning the man were basic leather clothing. Albeit thick and much more crude than what humans normally made. Essentially it was hides turned inside out so the fur was inside, except the collar and hem of the vest.
* Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
* Athletic: Living in a swamp has its benefits. You learn how to move through tougher terrain, build strong muscles, and learn how to climb good. Lizard Fighter can perform long leaps, swim easily, climb where others can't, and traverse muddy terrain as if it were a dirt road. Of course the deeper the muck the slower he goes despite being used to it.
* Toughness: Given his reptilian nature he has a tougher physique thanks to his scaled hide. Also thanks to taking many a blow back in his home while growing up. He can shrug off minor hits and mitigates some of the damage of stronger attacks. Either by changing the angle of how they hit or flexing to lessen the impact.
* Poison Resistance: Due to living in a swamp the majority of his life he has become highly resistant to poisonous substances. Prolonged exposure will still affect him but it takes longer than the average human.

[User]
Big Red wasn't surprised by the lack of stuff, the only things the goblins probably wouldn't bother with were baubles anyway. From their looks they weren't vain creatures so what would they do with the ring from a finger, or a necklace of leather and pewter? Since no one in the group found any treasures or traps it was mutually agreed upon to continue deeper into the cave. Was this a natural formation, or had it been dug out by goblins? Or animals? Animals had a purpose, a den for their young and themselves. What was a goblins purpose aside from wanton destruction?

Delving into the next tunnel they went, the only light seeming to be the fairy and the reptilian mans torch. Up ahead was a shape in the darkness, which got him to clench his hand a little on the grip of his studded club. As they got closer it was shown to be the body of a male, a priest judging by the white garb. He'd see it before the others since he took up so much of the tunnel. "Well that's one from the previous group..." He murmured softly just as Druid Girl squeezed her way around him.

He didn't stand idle while she went to the body, he stepped forward, pretty much looming over her as she touched the body. It slumped over to reveal the damage fully, not just some spattering of blood. Considering his throat was torn out, but the front of his robes weren't saturated in dry blood, it might have happened after death. But it was doubtful.

The twangs of bows rung from up ahead making his eyes widen. An ambush had been laid for the group. That massive form leaned down fully, pulling Druid Girl into shielded embrace. While he moved he called back to Archer girl. "Get down!" When the arrows struck, or missed, he'd push Druid Girl back between his legs before grabbing the scruff of the dead priests clothes. Hoisting him up the dead youth would be a shield for them to proceed behind since a buckler was not nearly large enough to even bother trying to block arrows with.

[Assistant]
As the group delved further into the den of the goblins, Steppe Archer couldn't help but feel the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She imagined the others were experiencing a similar sensation...albeit she didn't know if Big Red had any hairs TO get tingled. Regardless, her anxiety was gnawing at her as they walked along. Her sword was clutched tightly in her hand, the spear she had received in the other.

The sight of the fallen adventurer was a gruesome one indeed, given that he looked to have been injured insanely badly. But...it didn't make sense. His injuries should have thrown him to the floor from their force...yet here he was, neatly sitting as if he hadn't been torn apart. It was then that her eyes widened, realizing that it was a trap. Before she could even yell anything towards the Druid Girl, arrows flew, and Big Red flew into action to block those arrows with body as a shield, and the corpse of the adventurer.

The archer would follow the words of her lizardman companion and get down, readying her spear. She would take up position behind her lizard companion once he was close enough for her to shimmy behind, ready to stab from behind him at the goblin archers. Right now, using her bow was too risky, especially since she could hardly see.

[User]
"Hyah?!"

That was all of the noise Druid Girl could make, before burly and scaled arms swooped down, grabbed onto her and pulled the girl into a forceful embrace. It wasn't very pleasant, nor comfortable, but then again, neither was getting perforated by arrows. Speaking of, Big Red would soon learn that arrows already launched from bows moved much faster than even his reptilian reflexes, and een though one of the projecticles missed the mark entirely, the other found their way into the lizardman's massive frame. It seemed that despite their supposed weakness, goblins - or at least their archers - had enough power to pierce the hide and scales of a lizard.

Fortunately for the giant warrior, the arrows truck non-lethal areas of his body, with one imbedding itself in his great, big, broad shoulder and the other in his upper arm. As the giant grabbed the corpse of the deceased adventurering priest before himself and his sheilded maiden-in-distress, another volley of three arrows came whistling. Luckily, these three all struck the rather cold corpse-shield, rather than either of the live adventurers.

Shrieks and garbled noises could be heard from further down the tunnel, and soon the pitter-patter of tiny feet was heard. Within seconds, a group of no less than five goblins, each wielding their own weapon, ranging from a hand axe to what looked like broken-off femur to a dagger dripping with who-knows-what. The goblins using bows however, seemed to have stayed behind, not advancing with their fellow kin to rush in attack their invading enemies. The five attackers ran at somewhat different pace though, meaning they weren't all moving at the same speed, nor were they lined up next to each other in unified order either.

Druid Girl, having witnessed Lizard Fighter's rather macabre use of a fellow fallen adventurer as an impromptu barricade, was about to let loose a barrage of scolding words, but were thankfully interrupted due to the arrival of the new wave of goblins. While she was thankful that the big oaf had saved her supple butt from being turned into a pin cushion, she wasn't exactly thrilled about how he had managed it. Still, now wasn't the time for such matters.

The little fairy that the nature mage had summoned flew off, racing at the goblins and then beginning to however and circle above them, shedding its light over the quintet and making them less obfuscated by the glooomy dark of the cave. Reaching for her hip, Druid Girl unlatched her sickle - the spear she had been given by Big Red wasn't going to do much good right now, nor was she going to have time to start chanting and casting a spell, what with the little monsters almost already upon them.

The young girl scooched a bit away from Big Red, though not far, standing a bit to his left side. As the creepy, long-nosed freaks got close, three of them leapt at the red lizard, yelling and cawing like little madmen, while one raced towards Druid Girl and the other seemed to want to squeeze past the two frontliners to get to their archer-friend in the back.

[Assistant]
Druid Girl let out a strange yelp when he shielded her with his body. Two arrows struck him, in the meatier portions of his arm like his shoulder and the other in his bicep. It hurt but they didn't cause much damage to the musculature beneath his crimson scales. Growling he pushed forward with his meat-shield, which received three arrows from the archers. Technically he could just keep the body up until they ran out of arrows, but they'd probably wise up after the third volley.

More goblin sounds came from ahead, which revealed more goblins. Roughly five more came charging ahead, just how many were there in this cave? Whatever, they'd die and nothing would miss the little green bastards. The mishmash of weapons didn't affect him, they each had their own style of movement and he had a rather large 'shield' that they'd have to work around.

Two of the three, their movements revealed by the little fairy, went for his allies. Sure he could interfere with the goblins attacks, but he'd have to trust the two women to handle themselves as he took on the remaining three. Their move speeds were different than each others, but that didn't matter. If they had clustered up they'd be more difficult to handle, swarm tactics could best the most skilled fighters.

The first goblin to approach was met with the dead body of the priest being dropped on it. A sudden dead weight of over one hundred pounds dropped on a child was a good way to keep it busy and struggle. The second goblin launched itself up, trying to stab his jaw from beneath with its femur dagger. Leaning to the left the crudest of crude knives went past. Whatever sludge was on that thing was pretty damn rank. Still his face turned as the knife went by and with a loud meaty snap his jaws closed on the goblins forearm. The third goblin, that had a rusty hatchet, came up last and swung its small limbing axe at him, only for that buckler to catch the blade. The wood thunked as the blade bounced off, leaving a notch in it.

His leg went forward, kicking the goblin away as its weapon rebounded off his small shield. A clench of his jaw and a bone breaking snap rung out before he grabbed the screaming wounded goblin by its head as he released its arm from his meat-tearing teeth. Without missing a beat the goblin was thrown at the wall.


[System]
Age: 25

Gender: Male

The questing regalia of a knight of Clan Cluecloch.
The scrap armor for ceremonial occasions and when he has advanced notice of battle.
Home: Chatanooga, Tenessee

Skills:
> Energy Weapons
> Mounted Combat
> Melee Combat
> Repair
> Survival
> Science

Background: The story of Samuel starts before the war, when a certain organization of men in white robes and pointy hats took refuge in the holding cells of Fort Camelot, then a military base serving mostly as barracks. Of course, the passage of time wasn't kind to the fort, destroying most of the sign and many of the records of their ancestors. Word of mouth remembers the ancestors of the Knights of Kamelot as the Knights of Clan Cluecloch, an order who protected pure-strain humans from vile mutants such as the ash-skins and nightwalkers. Though they know not of the horrors their brave ancestors faced in the defense of the common folk, the modern Knights of Clan Cluecloch have taken up a similar vigil, seeking to protect the Wastelanders from feral ghouls and super mutants, questing for artifacts of the old world in order to gain fame and glory. Their own life is a second concern- for it is a knight's duty to protect the common folk.

Samuel is the adopted son of one of the forgemasters of Kamelot, who scavenges, repairs, and sometimes builds from scratch the weapons and armor the knights use. His birth father was slain in pitched battle with one of the Mirelurk Kings of the Tennessee Aquarium. Ten years ago, Samuel earned a place as a squire by slaying ten feral ghouls with nothing but a combat knife, and after five years as a squire, was knighted himself. He's come to the Carolinas on a quest to slay the foul mutants who torment the innocent humans of the wasteland- particularly deathclaws and other FEV monstrosities- for the glory of the order.

Equipment:
> Lambray, a horse he rides into battle
> polished scrap Metal Armor (wears a white hood which connects to a tabard)
> a car door he uses as a shield
> A Shiskebab
> an insignia of rank (brown crucifix surrounded by red circle)
> A satchel full of food and water-purifying tablets

Other: Yes, he has a horse.

[User]
The Radiation Roost, a bar taking up the largest building in town with four floors and a lot of space it has played house to every event possible. Currently the wastelands favorite radio personality Three Dog was using the fourth floor and some scavenged equipment to run his radio show. As he turned on his mike and shuffled around a few notes he prepared for his new segment.

Down below in the bar all the radio's were quickly tuned in to Galaxy News Radio as Three Dog was due to give another report any moment. Most of the bar went pretty quiet as the volume was turned up, the news was on and they'd find out more about the raids on Enclave. When a voice that could never been forgotten cut in the song having ended. "Because one dog ain't enough, and two is too low, it's me, Three Dog! How you kids handling post-apocalyptia today? Got some interesting news from up North today, seems our Defender of the Wastes hit the Enclave yet again. This Vault kid took out six Brahmin load down with Enclave supplies, the soldier escort abandoned the supplies, after all that he then gave all the supplies to a New Charlotte caravan asking that they give out to those in need."

Three Dog laughed then paused a few moments people looking between each other, as a man in armored vault 35 jumpsuit slipped into the bar taking a seat by the radio he set his bag down as Three Dog continued. "So children here's the real question, just who the fuck is this guy? I mean he rides in guns down the Enclave and vanishes, hell at least the Lone Wanderer would stop by to fix my toaster now and again. Anyway moving on to the South..." Three Dog's voice fell into the background as people turned back to the there conversations or drinks.

Most failed to take notice of the assault rifle totting man in the vault jumpsuit, the bartender even smiled. He knew the guy, rolled into town every couple weeks to trade alcohol for ammo and caps. As Davis, the bartender cleaned a glass he walked over and spoke softly the commotion of the bar hiding most of there speech. "You were on the radio again Jack, you ever gonna go upstairs and give Three Dog an interview?" He chuckled passing him a Nuka cola from the fridge. "On the house for sticking it to those bastards."

Jack smirked and popped the cap on the edge of the counter taking a long drink, ignoring the radiation it was cold and sweet he'd take some Rad-away later. "I'll do an interview when some one sits down and explains to who that Lone Wanderer character is and why I'm like him."

Davis chuckled at vault born man. "You really don't know? He was a unicorn that fixed toasters as he traveled around the waste land on the back of his talking death claw."

Jack burst out with laughter, it had been weeks since he'd relaxed back at base. "Davis you best be shitting me, because if the wasteland some how produced that I'm finding another vault to crawl into."

Davis smiled as he got himself out a Nuka Cola. "To you, Jack Cobalt defender of the Wastes."

Jack raised his drink in toast as well. "To this damn wasteland and it's monsters, human or otherwise." He said as they both knocked back there cola's.

Three Dogs news report finished with the slogan. "Don't feed the yao guai, that is all." Davis went back to fetching drinks for the crowds as Jack went over and took a seat at a table, he got out his laser rifle and began to tinker as the colonel Bogey march played Jack whistled along. Three Dog having collected new music since his departure from D.C. a few wastelanders watched as he worked on his laser rifle happy whistling.

[Assistant]
Riding on through the heat of the afternoon, a quartet of haggard individuals passed through South of the Border's northmost gate, a Brahmin wagon covered with a thick cloth tarp rolled into the town's main bazaar. Waiting for the wagon was an empty spot amongst the many stalls-- a spot that always remained empty just for this wagon's triweekly visit. With heavily-practiced ease, the lead Brahmin maneuvered into the empty spot, and promptly sat down. It grunted satisfactorily as a rugged, bearded man emerged from the wagon's cloth exterior, and glanced around.

The bearded man reached inside the wagon, and pulled out an old wooden sign, with "LERK JER KY 20 CAPS/ oZ" crudely painted on it. Looking quite satisfied with himself, the bearded man hammered the sign into the ground behind the wagon, and sat down on the wagon's edge. At long last, Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meatwagon had arrived!

"Awright," said Hawkeye Joe, peering around the market for potential customers, "you boys g'wan an' find yerselves a way t' pass time. Ain't hard-- whole town's a tourist trap! Jus' tell me if yer gunna stay, I ain't tellin' yer momma you got lost in South!"

From the wagon came three more strapping men and a hog. The first two were a pair of good old boys, named Muggsley and Puggface. Muggsley was the altogether more intelligent of the two, and enjoyed farming and hunting Mirelurks. Puggface was the altogether more attractive of the two, and enjoyed hunting Mirelurks and farming. Following them soon after was Albus Secundus, a friendly enough fellow from out West, who enjoyed fixing clothes and hunting Mirelurks. Following him was his pet "wild" sow, Heather. Heather enjoyed eating corn, scrap cloth, and Mirelurk meat. The four of them, together with the bearded fellow out back, formed Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meat Company. Curiously enough, not one of them was named Hawkeye Joe.

While Muggsley and Puggface ambled over to the Radiation Roost, a notorious bar for tourists who didn't know the first thing about a decent meal and a strong drink, Albus and Heather stalked further into the sea of market stalls. Albus knew where he was going, and snuck through several alleys to get there.

In the welcoming shade of an alley behind Terry's Gunne Shop, Albus patiently knocked upon a cleverly-hidden sheetmetal door. At the sound of his knocking, a grisly-looking doorman peered through at Albus with an appraising glare. Shortly after, that same doorman peeled the door away, and nodded grimly as Albus passed through.

A dark, armored man on a stage towards the back of the room, face on one side by a crowd of onlookers, nodded as Albus came in through the doorway. When Albus found a place amongst the crowd, the man spoke up.

"I'm glad you all have come here today. As you know, there has been some rumors amongst the wastes of a number of armed and heavily-armored individuals roaming around, killing people. Even stranger, it appears that there is a man--a Vault Dweller--killing some but actively assisting others in their actions. Unless anyone has any issues they'd like to bring up before we start... let the South of the Border Political Forum begin!"