[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 57

Affiliation/ Rank: Associate of the Gang, Leader of Russian mob in the city.

Appearance:

Bio: Ivolgin was born in Russia during the time of the Soviet Union. Always a quiet child, Ivolgin knew that in order to be listened to, it had to mean something when you spoke, and he has continued to serve by that mantra. Ivolgin became involved in organized crime at a young age, serving as an enforcer and soldier. Ivolgin quickly became known as someone who got jobs done, and established quite a few connections in the corrupt Soviet regime through bribery, threatening, and extortion. A rich man, Ivolgin came under intense scrutiny by the few who still believed in Marxist politics, but he rarely met those folk more than once, and they met few others after Ivolgin. After the Berlin Wall fell and the new Russian Federation was formed, Ivolgin found himself with few contacts, and a now powerful police force gunning for his arrest, using what remained of his contacts, Ivolgin fled to America, quickly taking over the city's chapter of the mob, establishing himself as a powerful force. Ivolgin has multiple gangs that he gives work to, aids financially, and attempts to absorb into his group, and the Gang is one of these pet projects of his.

Personality: Ivolgin is quiet and brooding, and he is always thinking and observing, a common saying amongst his underlings is that Ivolgin knows more about you than you do yourself. When angered, Ivolgin is still quiet, but as if it was carried on the air, his anger is still noticeable. Ivolgin hates betrayal and values loyalty above all else, which has cost him, as loyal folk are not always the most capable. Imposing and near silent, Ivolgin is still an affectionate friend, and enjoys the company of those he trusts, and has a very dry sense of humor.

Other: Ivolgin is a skilled marksman, speaks Russian fluently and English near-fluently, enjoys Russian folk music, is a skilled dancer, hates spiders above all else, and often tames stray dogs.

[User]
Jayce Smith, or "Nine" if you weren't 66, sat atop the roof of a building opposite of Deuces Wild Diner. Jayce was leaning against one of the metal boxes that had some sort of appliance in it. That didn't matter to Jayce, who was casually spinning his Karambit knife with his finger through the loop at the top of the hilt. God, today was boring! The boss didn't have any hits today, so what the hell was he meant to do? Fuck cleaning tables, that shit ain't for killers unless you're just laying low. Well, it WAS boring, until some Irish bellowing could be heard from below.

Jayce crept up to the edge of the roof, and spied upon the road below. It was the WMP, with Brian Delaney at the head of the assault. He didn't even notice those shit-stains. "Shit!" Jayce muttered to himself. He had to get down there. Pronto! Jayce sprinted to the back of the building, sheathing his Karambit. He grabbed onto the access ladder and hurriedly made his way down. Once Nine had reached the bottom, Jayce pulled out his Berretta, checking it over quickly before turning the corner and down the alleyway. Nine was in a position where he was on the right side of the WMP, facing their backs. Nine raised the gun with one hand, pointing at one of the outliers, holding a brick. The assailant was about to throw the block, until-

BLAK!

He was shot directly in the spine. The young hitman whipped around and ran back down the alleyway, planning to go around the building and end up on the left hand side. Jayce sprinted, having to vault over a trash can on the way. Jayce had to find a way to get to the diner without being caught, which in hindsight, he probably should have done that before blasting his piece at the rival gang. It was fun being on the outside looking in, until you actually fell in yourself. Instead of taking the first corner, Jayce ran down behind the neighbouring building, with a couple of goons heading up the alley he was going to go down. Jayce had to run and gun, firing two shots at the pursuers. However, they both missed as the WMP lackeys dove for cover.

It was fortunate no cars were going to try and drive through the middle of a gang war, as Jayce's only hope was to run as fast as he could across the street and go into the back of the diner. Jayce waited at the entrance of the alley, taking deep breaths before he made a break for it. Jayce sprinted as fast as he could, gathering all his might to make it across before getting flak from the opposition. Jayce rolled into the alley by the Diner, and ran around the back, disappearing from sight for a few moments. Jayce went through the back door and through the kitchen before bursting into the restaurant section. Jayce slid over the counter, knocking over a couple of used plates and a cup of joe. Jayce dove into a neighbouring booth my Big Zeke, and blind fired into the squad of WMP.

[Assistant]
Its usual day as always, bad traffic, coffee, policemen and criminal activites. With nothing intresting going on, he decided to call some of his comrades to cafe. Anton sits in cafe with Vasili and Delino, who are his comrades from the mob, talking about considering to do some street racing again. While hes talking about it, Delino noticed something strange.

"Hey, why are those guys staring us?" Anton and Vasili look at the window, they see five men watching them with hands in their pocket. Anton sighs and answers "No panic needed, they might think that were just suspicous. Im not intrested having another brutual fights with random gangsters ya know. Anyway back to the topic, i enjoyed old days as street racer, but honestly im not sure if its worth doing again, ive gotten enough trouble by just street racing and thats not even including... Bank heists, tough i could still-" *BZZZZP BZZZZP BZZZZP* Suddenly he was interputed by a call, he looked at the phone and he saw that his boss Paul was calling him, he answers to the phone. "Da? What is it? I hope you have a good reason to call me, boss."

[User]
A casual day at the diner place, a red-head sat on a chair with a leg rose on-top of the other as there was a lot of typing sounds coming from her area. She was using her laptop trying to gain some information about a certain person, he was from another gang and of-course, their enemy. Layla wasn't used to hacking people's personal lives but if she could find the right information, it would eventually help them bring that person down. This person as a hacker like Layla, her arch-nemesis, it was somewhat cool to have a nemesis who had the same skills as her but that didn't mean that Layla was gonna offer that hacker a plate full of cookies for them to become the best-friends, lies.

"Yo Wolf bring yo bitch ass crew out! Block 66 ain't shit to the WMP Boyz!"

Layla rose an eyebrow while staring at the laptop screen as she hacked into one of the cameras to slowly move its direction over to the WMP Boyz, she muttered a few curse words before closing down her laptop and exiting the diner. "Guys, the wanna be bad boyz are trying to call us out. We should really get them before they get us." she'd say in their communicator whom by the way, Layla made for all of the gang members to have just in-case something bad like this happens. Layla strutted towards her motorcycle and twisted up the handle as she rode over to the direction where the WMP Boyz were at. Of-course she wasn't going to just ride in on them thinking she's wonder woman, but instead Layla wanted to get a bit closer in order for her to try something out.

[Assistant]
She arrived on scene shortly after bolting from the business district, already the telltale scent of cheap vodka and cheap women indicating where she was as it wafted in the cool breeze.

This was Bratva turf, and you better have good reason to come down here, other than having your throat slit and your balls cut off. Mostly it was the area they controlled in the Russian District, Little Moscow they called it, Anna only frequenting here a few times on business from Ivolgin.

She remembered that sleazy butcher she killed once in his shop around here. The fucking suka was always roughing up Ivolgin's whores. Poor Ulia, Anna couldn't forget the woman's experience with that fat fucker, only her first time on the street, how she came back bruised and beaten up. It pissed the redhead off no less, and per order of Paul, she paid that butcher a special visit.

When they found him stark naked, hanging from a metal hook by his neck in the freezer, every one of his knives stabbed into his vitals in alphabetical order....they knew never to fuck with the Bratva.

And pretty soon, these mudaks were gonna learn that lesson...the hard way.

Anna got off her bike, about a few feet or so from the Rusalka(hehe), a small cafe their second in command Anton always hung out at with a few of the guys. That's when she saw the black van discreetly pull up, a five man detail piling out, stern, hard looking men.

By their brogue, it was no doubt they were Irish, Delaney's boys, here to start trouble no less.

But Anna, she wasn't gonna attack them outright, even if she had a gut feeling they were about to unleash Hell all over Anton and his comrades.

So she bided her time, waiting for them to slip up, patiently waiting with her thumb switching the safety off her Grach 9mm.


[System]
Picture

dropbox.com/s/327ipckfb16dkq0/Beacon.…
Nicknames/Aliases: Beacon
X-Men Code Name: Beacon
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Physical Description:

70kg
175cm

Clothing: Brown pants, white frilled shirt, Black hoodie, belt, socks, small survivalist backpack, black leather boots, black leather gloves, long black leathercoat and undergarments. He also have a suit and tie in his backpack, including some black shoes. (Nicely stolen from a store)

Mutations: Telepath

While many telepaths bear the power to seize control of other beings surrounding them, Rozenfeldt's mutation takes manifestation in another form.

The most powerful ability being the ability to reach out to other mutants using his far reaching telepathic ability. Calling out his thoughts to all those within a city scale distance, only those with mental protection are unable to hear him.

It does not allow him the ability to read anyones mind, neither control them. But he can use his power to relay his thoughts. This is a oneway communication. As his own mind is unassailable by those whom would try to affect him, it is as a powerful brick wall comes inbetween those trying to sense where he actually is or try mind control, change his memories or possess him.

Besides these things, he has telekinetic abilities which bestow him with flight aswell as attacking with kinetic mind blasts and projecting shields around himself or any ally close enough.

Personality:

Ayel is a calculating, calm yet charismatic individual. Yet not a stranger to fits of anger, if something would demand it. He is protective of other mutants, but despises humans with a passion. He prefers talking with younger mutants out of all, but more so women. He is also prone to doing dramatic and theatrical movements when he speaks and fights.

He is a strongly driven individual whose ambitions would give someone like Proffessor X a nightmare. His own views on mutants is to not refer to them as such, but rather as the 'Chosen ones' or the 'Oppressed ones'. He is willing to make sacrifices where he has to, but prefers to not do so. It all depends on the results, so in that he believes that the end justifies many of the means necessary to bring it about.

Background:

Ayel found out of his mutant powers many years ago, his parents and friends labelled him an abomination and a monster. A freak. All turned their backs on him and he was flung out into the wilderness at the age of sixteen.

Police were dispatched to apprehend him but he had already packed his most important things and left. Search parties were sent after but lost trace after the young man had used telekinetic flight to evade being captured.

Ayel found his sanctuary in the far reaching forests of Alaska, where he came to make himself a home. In the shape of a wind and cold resistant tent and various minor constructions. He seldom left the forests, as they provided him with the seclusion he needed. To come to terms with his existance and to hide from those whom would try to kill him.

Despite being hunted, he sometimes sought himself into the cities to aqquire things which he needed. More often stealing things from shop owners. Such as a radio which he listened to occassionally to get information. Having experienced the price of being a mutant firsthand, and then hearing and seeing so much of the world around him. How others of his kind was being treated filled him with determination. To see things change. Forever.

He begun training in the forests of Alaska, gradually honing his telekinetic powers and his mental sphere would grow wider. He occassionally tested it in the city, reaching out to other mutants to see whom would react to it. Often in the case of them looking around as if they heard something which the regular humans could not. This ability was very taxing on him, and he knew he could only keep it up for so long. Also while he was doing so he left himself vulnerable.

The thing which he had originally deemed a curse had however become a power, and powers were meant to be used. That's when he decided he would use his powers to change everything, the time was well overdue. He had spent a long time in the forests, but now he was ready. Mentally and physically to tackle the world that had turned its back on him and all those like him.

Los Angeles was the place he needed to be at. Where many of his kind was gathering for what was coming to be a glorious future. One which he wanted to be a part of, a big part of. The beacon which could draw them all together under a single banner.

Recap of your mutations awakening: Ayel's awakening happened at the age of sixteen, his parents and friends turned their backs on him and attempted to kill him. The police came to chase him but he fled into hiding in the Alaskan forests and it is there he trained to become stronger in order to one day return back out into the open.

[User]
@Almalthia@Pilatus

 The sensory input was getting a little overwhelming for Lex. The haunting threat of an ever-advancing motor in the distance, the speakers being hijacked, blaring the soundtrack of a stranger. Ayel and Uná's words trading before him. The knowledge that more adversaries were on the way weighed further on his mind. He was losing control of the situation.

 The accusation that he was a clone by this Beacon fellow was enough make Lex reassess how powerful this person really was. As he watched him hover across the room, he picked up on two things. Apprehension and uncertainty. That was comforting, anyway. Beacon didn't have a plan. He had grandeur. As Uná rejected his company, Lex ate up the situation like a warm, fluffy brownie. At the end, he heard her mention a 'Demo', a knight she was expecting to come to her rescue. That introduction should prove interesting as well. Lex's eyes bounced over to the clock on the wall, taking in the time for but a split second before recentering on Beacon.

 "Like I said," Lex reiterated after Uná declared her preference for him over Ayel. "I was a little quick to describe you as an intruder. Perhaps I should more accurately describe you as an unexpected guest?" The motor sound from outside continued, distracting Lex for a moment, but he snapped back. "You talk to me about confused purpose, yet here you are tasked by children to 'save' a woman who doesn't need nor want saving." Lex made sure his eyes were boring directly into Beacon's as he spoke, his face unflinching, looking at the hovering mutant with a sense of caged, ravenous hunger behind a colorless mask of seriousness.

 "You want to be the shepherd, but you have no flock. You want to be a big man in a world that has no idea who you are. That sort of feat takes money, resources, contacts, strategy... Lucky you. Those children with whom your mistakenly kowtowed to just introduced you to the man that can give you access to all of that. I was hoping to discuss it now, but it seems as though we are short of time. We're left with a blind decision, then. A potential leap of faith. The children who commanded you like a dog to come fetch my guest will likely be here soon. Along with whoever else seems to be looking to raise some hell. I've not harmed this young woman and, indeed, I helped keep her safe from whatever that monstrosity was at Avalon. I look at the mirror and I see a savior of benevolent intent. Like you. They look at me and baselessly see me as a malevolent abductor, a evil that needs to be squelched. Over nothing. Even if you did deliver this young woman back to them, how long until they look at you the same as they do me?"

 It was inevitable. The truth used to be something that was solid fact. These days, the truth was subjective. Everyone loved to see heroes fall, rising stars crash, glory crash into misery. The moment Beacon assembled his flock of mutants with anti-human intent, he'd be the next target of wrath. Lex just hoped he was forward thinking enough to realize this truth.

 "So your choices are simple. Remain on the children's leash and fell a good, albeit misunderstood mutant, one of the chosen. Or take the leash off. Be the shepherd and let me help you do it. But I'm of no use to you dead." Lex extended his hand out, offering a shake, a path for both of them to succeed in their endeavors.

[Assistant]
Drake "D" Edwards

---

Interaction/Mentions: @c3p-0h@webboysurf@Damo021@ViolentViolet | Location: Avalon

---

---

 "Do me a solid and don't touch anything. Don't want to crash before we get to Una, eh?" Drake looked to the woman with a raised eyebrow. He witnessed her summon forth a vehicle by pure will. Obviously she was a card carrying member of the mutant squad. What's more, she wanted to help. In the predicament they were in, any help was appreciated. As the doors flung open, seemingly by themselves, Drake carefully sat Aya into the front passenger's seat, his friend still unconscious due to her brave actions from before. He buckled her safety belt with the delicacy one employ in trying not to crack the shell of an egg. Satisfied, he looked at his newfound ally whose name he still didn't know.

 "This is precious cargo. Get her there safely or we're going to have problems," Drake said. It wasn't issued as a threat, more as a matter of fact. He then shut the from passenger door and turned to his classmates. "If you're going, get in now," he announced, his tone authoritative and stern. He wanted to waste as little time as possible. "Especially you, Nik," he added, looking his roommate in the eyes. "My bike's up front. I'll follow you all there, but just make sure Aya safe during the ride." Nik was a good man. He knew there would be no argument from him. With that, Drake took off in a full sprint toward Veronica, his mechanical steed. As he leapt on her, he engaged the ignition and revved her up.

 His skin was still hot. He wasn't on fire, but it took everything in him to keep that in check. His fatigue was going in and out. One moment, he was focused, the next he felt almost light headed. At this, the eleventh hour, he had no choice but to maintain. He had a destination, a goal. Now it was time to make it happen.


[System]
Age: 29
Weight: 153 lbs
Height: 5'7
Race: Human
Class: Shaolin Monk
Appearance:
Abilities:

Xing Yi is an expert shaolin fighter who has spent over 50 years training in the realm of the endless mountains, a magical dimension where time stands still (hence why he is still only 29). Because of this he has mastered abilities in his prime that even some of his masters weren't able to achieve until their old age years. He is a master at his his own 'Endless' Style Shoalin Kung Fu, Hapkido, Kenpo, and Bajiquan.
Needless to say, he can execute these dangerous moves with almost superhuman percision and his body is trained to the amazing levels of the best shaolin monks across the world. In particular his 'Iron Shirt' technique allows him to withstand damage from swords, spears and iron clubs, though doing this constantly will severley weaken him and make him temporarliy slow and groggy.

He also has a moderate understanding of some ancient Chinese magic, and is able to focus his mind to read simple thoughts, although this can be blocked by a similarly trained martial artist or a individual with considerable willpower. He is also able to communicate directly to others telepathically without speaking or being near them. He has used this as a fear and stealth tactic in the past. Xing also has a spirit finely tuned to all life forms and can sense all living things, plants or animals around him. His mind is also able to see spirits and other ghost like entities. Though without his equipment he cannot fight or interact with the stronger etheral types.

Equipment:
Given to him by his master at the Endless Temple, he has one item each respectivley forged by one of the 4 Gods they are:

The Fang of the Azure Tiger

A magical chinese sword which is blessed from the gods, it is unbreakable and is unable to be wielded by anyone that isn't a servant of the tiger god. It can hurt spirits and other etheral beings, and can be used to banish evil spirits to whence they came. The Sword has a special ability that will absorb and destroy the weapon so it cannot be used for the rest of the battle. He can make a short prayer to the gods which will take a few uninterrupted moments to withdraw the sword into his body and instantly heal all damage done to him, restoring him to 100% health. If interrupted while saying his prayer, he may only get a smaller healing bonus and his sword with vanish anyway.

The Robes of the great Turtle
Although they may only be lightweight shoalin robes to most, a servent of the great turtle may harness their hidden powers to become a shield to magical attacks, though not invunerable, a wearer is able to shrug off a low level fireball, and maybe able to survive being hit by a strong magic bolt. Although powerful arcane magic can destroy these robes, yet the robes will 'sacrifice themselves' to save the wearers life once before being disintegrated, such is the mercy of the Great Turtle.

Beads of the Blue Dragon
Xing Yi's Beads allow him to fire powerful ki blasts of holy flaming energy at his opponents, these are devestating to evil or malovelent spirits but are less powerful on warriors of justice. against a completely pure being such as a preistess or an angel, the blasts actually have a healing effect. XIng Yi has not fully mastered these blasts and will sometimes drain too much of his own life force if he doesnt use the blasts sparingly. The power of the blue dragon is as such that Xing could probably level a mountain if he chose but would almost definitely kill himself in the process. His also able to cover himself in the 'Dragon's Aura' for a short time which is much more safe, allowing him to fight faster and stronger for while and give himself increadible leaping abilites, enough to clear the roof of his temple in a single bound. Obviously this power has limitations based on the users energy/life force.

The Red Phoenix Rod
The Staff that Xing holds is a magical item which he doesn't carry with him, he can 'summon' its existence at anytime. It comes to form as an unbreakable weapon which can become as hot as the pheonix's flames itself but only to it's opponents and those who aren't servants of the phoenix. It can take the form of a bo staff (pictured), a pair of nun-chucks, red gauntlets, or a long bow with an endless supply of arrows. All of these weapons Xing is trained to use with a unprecedented level of skill, though his personal favorite are the gauntlets.

[User]
Monolith Graveyard

Player Limit: N/A.
Description: An ancient place, the Monolith Graveyard contains massive metallic structures composed of many metals such as iron, steel, copper, gold, and silver. There are a total of 500 Monoliths which are evenly spaced from one another. All Monoliths are 33 meters apart and stand at a height of 80 meters, making them truly impressive structures. The humming noise released by the Monoliths may have a variety of effects, but these effects depend on the combatants present as well as their intentions and alignment. The Monoliths tend to favor whomever is the weakest or most disadvantaged and will play to their strengths, attempting to even out the match-up through field advantage. In most cases of evenly matched opponents, the Monoliths' merely hum, and the sound produces no effect other than focusing the abilities and minds of those present to a minor degree.

The Graveyard is called as such due to a new Monolith appearing for every combatant who falls through contest within their bounds. The Monoliths are spread out in 250 rows and 250 columns. Each column is 3 meters from one side to the other, As a result the Graveyard is utterly massive and gains size for every fallen combatant. Currently it is 9000x9000 meters.

Adversaries always start 60 meters away from one another. While the pillars are not indestructible, the materials that make them up attract one another and so will return to their base form and levitate to their normal location when not manipulated by other energies. The ground of the arena is mostly level and is composed of reinforced stone. The floor conducts vibrations fairly well.

Unique Traits: The Monoliths constantly emit a faint humming noise. As the intensity of events around them raises so does the volume of the deep hum. Once the both combatants have unveiled their true power or the fight has reached a level of great intensity the monoliths begin to levitate above the rock formations that typically hold them down. The structures will move slowly from platform to platform.

[Assistant]
Theme Of Stalking

The Monolith Graveyard was said to drive normal men mad with its unnaturual energy that hung in the atmosphere. The temprature felt all wrong, it was cold, but in a very thick and humid way, and there was no wind, not even a breeze, just stale air lightly covered by a small fog. There was also no sound, no traces of life, an empty unnerving realm of dread and isolation, Xing Yi could indeed imagine a weaker soul being driven to insanity. The place gave the living the feeling of what it was like to be undead.

Xing Yi's resolve was cast iron, no amount of unsettling enviroment was going to scare him, he spent 50 years in a chamber where time didn't move, and trained himself until he lost his sanity and then trained until he regained it, he had fought all manner of warriors and creatures in the Arena multiverse and this was just another chapter in his turbulent life. His body began to twitch, his clear mind was now disturbed by something....another life? A strong will, that of a competetior, a warrior's spirit. The air in the graveyard began to move ever so slightly, as another being now walked this plane. This being was far away but Xing could track him by following his life force. He summoned his Phoenix Rod and the magical item transformed into a longbow, he began to sprint stealthily towards his foe, closing the distance somewhat until he would be in range to fire. But not before sending a telepathic message.

Warrior, my name is Xing Yi, I am an Endless Monk and represent the otherwordly Shaolin, by entering this graveyard you have engaged me in combat, we will fight to the death, good luck to you.

He pulled out an arrow out of thin air and strung it too his bow, ready to fire at any moment.

[User]
"I'm going to see the world!"

It's been about 2 years since the start of Kriang Sak's Journey of Enlightenment and Experience. His master sent him off after his grueling training to see what the world offered for this young warrior. As expressed by his master, life is considered the best teacher. Spending many years isolated in a cave that tricked your senses, helping one to sharpen them, to not fully trust them, to gain a new ones, the young warrior came out a new man. Developing something like animal sense and hardening that iron will of his, there was no trace of fear in this man who embraced fear already in his training.

Walking along a path that sent him into The Monolith Graveyard, Kriang's curiosity and interest was piqued when coming upon these very large structures. The air was different and the place seemed dead, this almost felt like being back in the deepest part of the cave he lost his senses in but this didn't feel as bad as that. Casually walking through, Kriang stopped. his instinct taking over, making him feel he was not alone and possible killing intent involved. it was confirmed the moment he heard a voice in his head.

With this person presenting himself, Kriang Sak Smirked "Oh Karma.....the last person to speak to me like this was master. I must be in your domain...but...I accept your challenge, Endless Warrior. Kriang Sak....Thai Warrior of Yantra. I represent my Master Grand Abbott Chatchom and the former users of Yantra. Let's make this enjoyable as possible!!"

Kriang faced many challenges against other warriors during his journey but he had a feeling that this could be the great challenge he's been wait for. if he dies, this will be an honorable death. And no matter the outcome, he will embrace it. He stood at the ready for any surprises that comes his way, smiling as if this was a new game he was going to enjoy.

[Assistant]
No Hesitation

Xing Yi smiled at the response, he layed still under a coat of gentle fog, not sure whether his opponent had spotted him, but was happy to hear his response, he would enjoy this bout indeed. Looking at the graveyard, apart from the structures it was a pretty standard battle area, visibility wasn't great but considering how close the fighting might end up being that shouldnt be an issue. Xing Yi breifly wondered if the large monolith structures could be used for anything but then quickly returned his mind to his opponent.

Okay Yantra Warrior, lets see what you can do!

Xing Yi let two arrows in succession hurtling towards his opponent from the cover of the fog, he was roughly 25 feet away. He began to string his third arrow after releasing the second, his pulse was racing, in complete anticipation over what would happen next.

[User]
The suspense was incredible. trembling with excitement, Kriang Sak thought about his last fight that didn't last very long against a larger opponent who usually just used his brute strength and on top of that, easily showed his weak points. He was not much of a challenge but with this atmosphere and this warrior, Kriang has yet to see, he hoped this fight would push him. He wanted to grow more, mature to a higher level.

Smirking from the Endless warrior's words, Kriang tried guessing where this warrior was located. he was ready alright, clenching his fists until...

As the arrows hurtled towards him, Kriang heard them coming from his 8 o' clock direction, spinning twice to his right to evade the first two attacks, getting an idea where this warrior was located. On nearly completing his second spin and realizing that this could turn into a long range fight, Kriang had something in mind to respond to that. Upon completing his spin, Kriang Sak brought his foot and leg up to kick in the air in the direction of Xing Yi but what happened next, he wanted to let the Endless warrior know that this was not going to be an easy fight.

Upon kicking, Kriang Sak harnessed the power of the twin dragons from his Yantra tattoo to release a white, ki projectile, capable of slicing objects from his leg and foot. The attack flew in the direction towards Xing Yi, where Kriang Sak estimated where the Endless warrior was located, hoping to draw him out or to help him see his movement or interrupt his attack before he'd choose the action of pursuing him outright.

[Assistant]
Xing Yi watched as the Thai warrior seemed to dance around his two red projectiles and evade them smoothly but narrowly. His awareness, reflexes and overall form convinced the endless monk that this man was not normal, whatever martial arts training he had, obviously pushed his skills into the near supernatural. Xing Yi was now facing someone very similar to himself.

Unfortunately Xing Yi was not familar with the Muay Thai style of fighting and continued to string and fire his third arrow at the warrior without realising that the spinning kick was a form of counter attack, the big white blade of energy was totally unexpected and Xing Yi noticed it too late to avoid it fully.

In a desperate last minuite dodge the Monk managed to avoid any significant injury, but the projectile impacted near his shoulder, even with his protective magic robes, it still hurt quite a lot. With his third arrow still on it way to the target Xing Yi banished his phoenix weapon away for the moment and emerged from the fog in a speeding dash, making a circling approach the warrior's left flank.


[System]
Age: 23
Height: 5 ft 5
Weight: 150 lbs.
Allegiance: 'Hope'
Distinguishing Traits: Iris has a scar on her left hand, located on the wrist which was gained a few years back. No other scars but due to her pale skin Iris tends to bruise easily. Personality wise she is quite head strong, stubborn and isn't afraid to voice her opinion. Although she has light blue eyes in contrast to her fair skin in certain lights her eyes can be mistaken for grey.

Short Bio: Growing up in Aspiria sounded wonderful and it was if you were on the upper side. Iris however had grown up with her father on the rougher side, the commoner side of the city where you lived within your means. If you couldn't afford dinner well you wouldn't have dinner, it was as simple as that. It didn't really matter to her though because she had a loving family, her father worked hard day in and out and her mother kept the house maintained and food in their stomachs and it worked for them.
It all had changed when her mother fell ill and sadly passed away not long after. She had outright refused to use their money on medicine that would help her, and she was a stubborn woman a trait Iris had inherited. That death however sparked a rebellion, it fuelled her father's courage who gathered as many men, women and even teens that was willing to fight. He called it hope, hope for those wanting that better life.

Years had passed with many strikes; fights and a war had started between the two. Neither side wanted to relent, and her father Regis was focused on bringing down the hierarchy. His intentions had been pure at the start but since he was considered the leader of this rebellion, he had become accustomed to the ease of everything. Food on the table, weapons and money all donated to this cause and it fed his greed. He hungered for more, but no one knew that side. Not yet.

Now he had raised his daughter following his beliefs, ensuring that she bore just as much hatred for the higher ups as he did. He constantly twisted and manipulated her mind making her mother a martyr, ensuring that she believed it was their fault and that they had killed her mother and as Iris knew nothing else, she was left to believe such stories. Now being a young adult, she had trained herself to fight in this war, she could use a gun if needed but she much preferred being stealthy favouring a dagger. Using her size to her advantage and her skills in stealth she often gained information as leverage, but she had yet to kill someone, she had yet to have blood on her hands.

_________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
Recovery had been difficult and painful, although she didn't have any sort of complications healing naturally took far longer than it did with modern medicine, and she didn't help herself by not sitting still. The first couple of weeks had been spent mostly in bed, unable to move too much due to the stab wound she had spent more time in and out of sleep until she had gained enough strength to try moving. The minute her energy levels returned Iris became restless and had been rebandaged more times than she could count due to carelessness and pushing herself far too quickly. Even though she knew she should have been resting she was up and trying to walk around the apartment. The only saving grace was the fact that Jacob had been kind enough to give her some sort of pain management to help her through the tougher times, thankfully she hadn't caused herself much damage, but she had delayed her healing.

Jacob hadn't been the most talkative person either, conversations had started off quite awkward between them and she knew he only came back to check she hadn't run or died. Ultimately, she knew he'd take her back to the districts and this time she didn't want to go back, although it had been the best decision at the time, she couldn't help but regret it. Not only had she lost Cas in the process, but she had nothing. Home destroyed; previous contacts would want nothing to do with her after throwing the rebellion and she hadn't heard from her only friend there for a while.

Iris would never be a part of his world, but she no longer felt part of her own. Right now, she felt like she was at some sort of crossroads, nothing was clear, and she had to somehow find her way back to a sense of normality? Nothing in her life had been normal, her father had been so consumed with bringing down the monarchy she felt she had to take part in it just to get his attention. Life in the districts wasn't glamourous in the slightest, but she could have dealt with it. Who knew what she would have done had there been no rebellion? She could have had some sort of normal job, earning small amounts of money to get by.

It was hard as at times she understood what the rebellion had meant to the districts, but their methods had changed over the time. In some cases, they had acted just as bad as the Capital had towards them.

Left alone to her thoughts yet again was not ideal. Yet again she still felt like another prisoner held captive and she did want to feel some sort of freedom, but not if it meant going back to the districts. Haunted by her last ordeal with Ethan, Iris wanted to forget about it, but she knew Jacob would take her back soon. Having been at least a month of healing there was no risk of her getting ill or the wound getting infected, she was capable enough to fend for herself again and each time Jacob came home she was worried he would finally get rid of her.

Often, she'd find herself daydreaming, thinking back to her time with Cas when everything felt so carefree. When he had taken her to his favourite ice cream spot and she knew she had been happy, albeit without her memories but look at what pain regaining them had caused. If she could turn back time, she'd do it in a heartbeat and not try so hard to get them back, she'd never have led him out to the woods to be captured. A part of her even thought how she'd keep going back to a point where they would never have met. It would have saved so much pain and regret.

Maybe if she was honest with Jacob he'd understand? Maybe if she told him she didn't want to go back he could think of something? It seemed like a lost cause, but it wouldn't hurt in asking. Maybe she could even get a job in the Capital somewhere and attempt a normal life. At least in the Capital she'd be able to keep tabs on how Cas was doing, watch him grow into a great leader and see him be truly happy.

[Assistant]
Events at the palace were always extravagant, but the yearly banquet was a creature all its own. Every spare room in the building had been filled the night before with guests from around the continent, rich and royal supporters of the Aspirian monarchy, while the on-site servants had been hard at work decorating the ballroom. Every table, chair, banister and wall was practically dripping in luxury by the time they were done with it, and visitors were already milling about admiring the sights and sampling the hors d'oeuvres before the party. Both the men and the women were dressed in expensive, colorful dresses and suits, washing the ballroom floor in painted fabrics that created an impressive tapestry from above—which was where Caspian found himself at the start of that evening.

Once he'd settled himself over his appearance in his room, Harry had stopped by to let him know it was time for him to make his grand appearance for the banquet. With one last glance in the mirror, Cas had followed him and two other guards out to the top of the staircase, where he hovered as his presence was announced to the crowd below, and he stood with a forced smile as the sea of politicians applauded as if he was a celebrity. He'd never liked all the pomp and pageantry at these things—showing up for a rooftop party with a bunch of people his own age was much more appealing—but he just grinned and bore it until the clapping tapered off, and he could descend the stairs while everyone else resumed their mingling.

It felt a little surreal to be back in front of a capital crowd. The last time he'd seen this many people gathered in one place had been his father's funeral. He swallowed as the thought threatened to stir up unwanted memories of Atlas. Of Iris. Her face flashed through his mind again, and he felt his lip twitch, fighting against the frown that tried to take over. He still missed her deeply, but he couldn't think about that now. There was nothing he could do to bring her back, he reminded himself for the thousandth time, and fixating on her would just exhaust him. Right now, he needed to get through the banquet, make his rounds among the invited guests, and find Suphate King Quincy to talk about his proposition.

Who knew? Maybe somewhere along the way, he would even start to enjoy himself.

That was what he hoped for as the evening wore on, and he circled around the ballroom, greeting people he hadn't seen in a year and answering questions about his plans as the new ruler of Aspiria. Everyone seemed most curious about his agendas—and about whether he had any plans to find himself a queen. He knew why they were asking, of course, since he was acutely aware of the fact that the entire royal line hinged on him now that his father was gone, the rest of his extended family had been cut from the will, and he had no siblings or heirs of his own. If anything happened to him, the monarchy would crumble, and Aspiria had no backup plan in place.

Still, he didn't like feeling pressured into a relationship, so even though he understood the weight his singleness carried in the eyes of his allies, he kept his answers vague, only telling the politicians that he had some prospects on the horizon but hadn't made any firm commitments yet. That was enough to keep them off his back, and he would move on to the next groups, repeating most of the same topics with them.

After about two hours, he was finally approached by one of his guards, who let him know that the royal family from Suphate had arrived and were looking to speak with him. Excusing himself from the family he had just been conversing with—and breathing an inward sigh of relief that he didn't have to humor their suggestion of taking more than one bride to grow the Maydestone royal tree faster—he followed the guard over to the base of the grand stairs, where he spotted a familiar face through the crowd.

"King Caspian," Quincy greeted him with a broad smile, one hand resting on the shoulder of a young woman dressed in all white at his side. "Thank you for responding to my letter. You remember my daughter, Raine, don't you?"

"It's been a while, but yes, I do," Cas nodded, offering a smile of his own. "It's good to see you again."

"You as well, Your Majesty," Raine dipped into a curtsey and extended a gloved hand toward him. Her long, dark hair had been pinned up in loose curls, framing her olive-skinned cheeks. She was short and lithe—very unlike her stout father—with a cinched waist and supple curves that had been highlighted by her fitted cocktail dress. However, the most striking feature about her were her bright green eyes, highlighted piercingly with black liner. After ten years apart, she certainly knew how to make an impression.

Following the steps of tradition, Cas placed a kiss to the back of her hand and inclined his head toward one of the drink tables near the edge of the ballroom. "Why don't we grab something to drink while we catch up? The champagne is excellent tonight."

"Let's," Quincy agreed eagerly.

As the visiting king shepherded them both over to the table, Cas could see that he was practically buzzing with excitement. He felt a little guilty for not matching the Suphates' enthusiasm, but ultimately, their meeting wasn't about his feelings anyway. He was considering their proposal because it was a good move for Aspiria. It was just politics, nothing more. And it was better this way. If he left his feelings out of it, like he should have done with Iris, no one else would get hurt. So, taking a steeling breath, he picked up a champagne flute and readied himself to discuss options for an arranged marriage.


[System]
"Why am I here, you ask? Well, for the adventure of course!"
Nicknames/Title:
 Spell Blade
 The Wandering Scholar

Theme Songs:
 Standard Theme
 Battle Theme

Gender:
 Female

Marital Status:
 --

Age:
 20

Sexuality:
 Pauline

Family Ties:
 --

Class:
 Magus
 There are those who spend their lives poring over ancient tomes and texts, unlocking the power of magic, and there are those who spend their time perfecting the use of individual weapons, becoming masters without equal. The magus is at once a student of both philosophies, blending magical ability and martial prowess into something entirely unique, a discipline in which both spell and steel are used to devastating effect. As she grows in power, the magus unlocks powerful forms of arcana that allow her to merge her talents further, and at the pinnacle of her art, the magus becomes a blur of steel and magic, a force that few foes would dare to stand against.
 Magi spend much of their time traveling the world, learning whatever martial or arcane secrets they can find. They might spend months learning a new sword-fighting style from a master warrior, while simultaneously moonlighting in the local library, poring through tomes of ancient lore. Most who take this path dabble in all sorts of lore, picking up anything that might aid them in their search for perfection.

Weapon Mastery(ies):
 Sword, Tome

Inventory:
 Silver Sword
 Arcthunder
 Vulnerary

Personality:
 Youthful, and full of energy and wonder, Aika feels most at home both at the heart of a battlefield and in the depths of a library. She often might act too immature or optimistic for her companions, but she is a reliable source of knowledge, and a well trusted blade. Doesn't like to talk about her family.

Biography:
 Originally from the icy peaks of Frossbarr, Aika took to the roads in pursuit of great masters of magic and martial arts. Her desire to become a legend in both swordplay and spellcraft has led her across the sandy deserts of Alistaf and the thick jungles of Jotenvarr, stopping only to learn and practice with scholars and soldiers alike.
 It was during her stay in Jotenvarr that she learned that King Alexandro himself requested her by name for her skill. Upon arrival, she happily agreed to take up arms in the royal guard.

[User]
Diana

Diana's eyes narrowed as the fox attempted to make a break for it like a scared bird and like a scared bird, it was summarily swooped upon and killed. Though to the fox's credit he managed to kill the wyvern rider that had attacked him. It was mildly surprising that someone had actually died, but honestly it wasn't too unexpected. They had been warned after all. More pegasus knights dived from above, one diverted by Hiro's snap shot, the other practically torn apart by Tybalt's ferocious wind attack. One knight down, one wyvern rider down. The falcon knight was preoccupied with the manakete. That left two knights and two wyverns still ready to attack.

 As if to punctuate her thought a wyvern rider swooped down to strike at Hyakuya in conjunction with the falcon knight and another knight came diving at Tybalt, who was busy talking to Hiro. Diana simply took one step to position herself between the rider and its prey, with her spear point down towards the dirt, deceivingly useless. The spear practically screamed towards her, moments before it intersected with her flesh Diana slammed her shield into the side of the lance with exquisite timing and the point was rudely shoved into the dirt. The rider was remarkably quick thinking and managed to release the lance before it unseated her and quickly disengaged, though now disarmed. Diana let out a small growl, pesky creatures, never committing to an attack long enough for her to land a blow. Not for the first time she wished she had a roll of javelins with her.  "Sticking together is good and all but we need to make some more progress, either in killing these things or making it to the ruin." Diana said bluntly.

[Assistant]
Hiro and Tybalt already have good teamwork, Pauline noted. "Defending the fighters who have the biggest advantage over their enemies is great, but forgetting about other will definitely not help anyone", she thought as she climbed one of the trees. Even the best fighter will have trouble when outnumbered. And there they were, the Falcon Knight and the manakete fighting for their lives-- what, what was that shout? She looked down to see a fallen wyvern, its rider and... Is that the thief? Pauline blinked, trying to focus. Light fur peeked from under the beast's body. Oh, death was unevitable, but she was still scared of it.

Pauline glanced at Hyakuya and slowly, carefully moved as close to the falcon knight as she could. Damn, the rider's fast. She clenched her kunai, and, focusing all of her strength on it, aimed for the pegasus' side. The blade swiftly flew through the air, barely hitting the rider - she noticed it and managed to reflect it with her lance. Pauline scowled and growled slightly, grabbing another blade. "I hope that the kunai will at least distract the rider somehow" - she muttered as she threw it at the adversary.

[User]
Hiro Anu

Hiro raised his hands to potentially defend himself from the Pegasus knight, it would be the unfortunate end for him. He would have made nothing with his life and his travel here would have been worthless. That was when he heard the voice of Tybalt struck out like lightning and he felt a gust of wing pass by him, then was the sound of the something slamming into the ground. Slowly, he lowered his hands to see that the Pegasus knight had been taken down, Tybalt had saved him. "I am fine Tybalt, no thanks to you though. I would have skewered if it weren't for you," Hiro stated with a smile coming to his face. That was too close a call but at least he had avoided the grasp of death for now. "Manakete come this way! We will take down the Falcon Knight if you can get him closer!," the archer yelled to the dragon, getting back into the task at hand. Seeing that Pauline had thrown out a kunai, Hiro followed it up by shooting an aimed shot at the Falcon knight.

[Assistant]
Azi Lukotta

Though he saw Mikhail dodge the lethal axe swings from the Risen, Azi didn't realize that its focus had shifted towards Victor until it raised the heavy weapon to swing. Immediately stopping his song and sprinting towards him, Azi tried to warn him. "Victor!" he shouted, his warning coming too late. Thrusting his quarterstaff like a spear, he tried to interrupt the slow second swing, but was too late, his strike only reaching after the axe planted itself into Victor. The Risen was knocked onto the ground, its weapon still embedded into the ground through the body.

"He wasn't much older than me, was he?" Azi sighed regretfully, sorrow evident on his face. There was nothing he could do at that point except finish off Victor's killer. In a large, destructive arc, Azi swung his quarterstaff down on the Risen's head. "... Goodbye." he murmured as it began dissipating. Though the death of his friends saddened him, it only strengthened Azi's resolve to prevent them from happening, or rather, to prevent deaths in general. And so, he began singing the aria of haste again, doing what he could do.

[User]
Hyakuya

Hyakuya watched closely at the Falcon Knight. Moments passed by with neither doing anything. But then the Falcon Knight charged and Hyakuya could hear the flapping of wings behind him. Another attacker was aiming an attack on him. With a quick look, he saw that it was a Wyvern Rider. The Manakete was flanked and the way out was up or down. But he had to watch for an opening. Anything really to take the two down or at least one of them.

The opportunity finally presented itself when the Falcon Knight deflected a kunai, momentarily distracting her from the attack. Hyakuya quickly charged with the Wyvern Rider behind him with his axe ready. He heard Hiro but he had to escape first and he would like to see if he can take the Falcon Knight down. He spat a ball of fire at the Falcon Knight. There was a moment of panic that spread across the face of the Falcon Knight but regained her composure soon enough. She dodged the ball of fire along with the kunai but the arrow hit the rider on the shoulder prompting her to let go of her weapon.

All three were on a sure crash course but with the Falcon Knight wounded, Hyakuya would smirk if he was in his human form. Since she was disoriented with the sudden pain rushing over her, he charged and then swooped down and took a hold of rider. He then flew up but the Wyvern Rider had struck down and hit his hind leg and another one on his upper front leg. Good thing he had some armor thanks to the Manakete scales but he was sure those would leave scar. He then circled around and was now heading towards the Wyvern rider and then released the Falcon Knight at full speed towards the Wyvern Rider.

The two tumbled hit each other and was now spiralling down the sky and onto the unforgiving Earth. With all his mustered speed, Hyakuya managed to catch the two and put them safely on the branches. "We're not allowed the kill them right?" He asked, looking at Hirotsuka before going back to Hiro and the group. Perhaps he would've let them plummet to their deaths if not for that rule. He didn't want to get disqualified after all. "Thank you for the aid Pauline, Hiro." He said, dipping his dragon head at them. "What next?" He asked. Only three remained after that whole stunt. In all honesty, the Manakete wasn't too sure about the plan in the first place. A miracle that it worked. He doubted he would be so lucky in the future. It was also obvious that his hind leg was curled upward as he landed, signalling that his injury was far from just a small wound but that could be fixed later.

[Assistant]
Aika Lennone

By now, the coursing sparks of electricity that leaped from Aika's hand filled the room with a pale blue glow as she searched for a target. She was about to cast the bolt at one of the remaining swordsmen when the cavalier called her to strike the sorcerer. She pulled her arm back and scanned the arena for the undead magician before returning a comment to Mikhail. "Alright!" she exclaimed as she thrusted her arm forward, index finder extended at the sorcerer. "Hwurra! Eat this!"

A bright flash of lightning was instantly followed by an ear piercing crack of thunder as the magical electricity arced across the room, hurtling towards her target.

[User]
Mikhail Fuast

There was an odd buzzing ringing through Mikhail's ears. Behind him, he knew Victor had just paid the price for his reckless decision. Maximillian suffered from a similar fate next to the sorcerer. Death always came some quickly on the battlefield that it was difficult to ever truly prepare for it. Things had seemed to have been going well, but in an instant they had lost two of their own. The obnoxious buzzing wasn't going away, but the cavalier finally understood what was causing it: rage.

Aika's lightning hit the sorcerer dead on, causing it to stumble forward from the aftershock. With his jaw clenched violently, Mikhail quickened his pace. He shut out all other thoughts and tightened his gron on the sword. The damn thing was essentially dead already, he just needed to give it the final push. The sorcerer attempted to stagger to its feet, but it would never get the chance.

"Vanish," he demanded as his sword finished its arc through the creatures neck. The snarling face sailed through the air for a brief second before it dissipated into the Risen's acrid smoke.

'That idiot,' he fumed internally, 'They would both still be alive if he had just waited a few more seconds.' Dismissing the thought, Mikhail turned towards the last Risen. 'It better hope I don't get to him first.'

[Assistant]
After drawing his blade from the throat of the risen, Mihkail saw the defeated sorcerer slump a bit forward, still held mostly upright as it dissolved by something lower than his point of impact. If he looked down, he would see the small spellblade crouched beneath his lunge, her sparking sword driven trough the stomach of the sorcerer. A pale blue flash crashed around the corpse's body as she pulled her sword from their enemy, allowing it to finally crumble to dust.

"There was no way I was going to let you challenge it on your own, even if it was staggered." she explained, hoping her incredible speed supprised Mikhail.


[System]
Appearance: A tall man standing at about 6'2, he has the build of a runner, lean and fit without particularly bulky muscles. His chestnut brown hair is messy and fails where it may, sometimes obscuring his eyes which are a piercing green. His unshaven face bears slight stubble, creases that come from smiling, and he has a small scar on his right cheek.

An approximation, not quite exact though, this guy's too serious. Far too serious.

Apparent Age: Early twenties.

Gender: Male

Nation: Grado

Class: Lord

Weapon Mastery: Lance-C

Level: 6

Background: Alvin grew up as the only son and heir to Emperor Rioga of Grado. His mother, Priscilla, died bringing him into the world, that fact has been a severe burden of guilt on the young man. As Alvin was growing up he always knew what he wanted to do, he'd look out the window and see Grado's feared Wyvern Riders practicing, flying about in the sky, free and having fun. Yes, Alvin knew he wanted to be a Wyvern Rider above all else.

At the age of 12, shortly after the Wyvern's mating season, Alvin was permitted to pick one of the newborn Wyverns to be his companion. His Father urged him to choose carefully, as this was to be his companion for life. Alvin took those words to heart and began examining the young Wyverns. After spending the whole afternoon looking at them, none had interested him very much. They were all strong, or fast, or supremely intelligent, at least that's what the breeders told him. The sun was falling and the horizon was burning red when he finally found a small, unassuming Wyvern that had been hiding under it's mother's wing. By the look of it it was certainly the smallest Wyvern he had seen and when he picked it up it squealed like it had been stuck with a spear! The rest had squirmed sure, but none had even come close to having this much spirit. The breeder identified the Wyvern as female and certainly the runt, but that didn't matter to Alvin.

He looked up at his father, eyes bright with the Wyvern squealing in his arms and said "I've got a good feeling about this one!" And so as soon as the Wyvern was big enough they started training together and the two have become inseparable ever since.

Since age 8, Alvin has been spending his summers in Renais visiting Prince Marwood along with Princess Natalia of Frelia, and Princess Rafaela of Jehanna. The children's parents decided on this arrangement so the future rulers would be good friends and perhaps a marriage or two might occur further down the road? It hasn't worked out that way yet but they are very good friends. Alvin tends to tease Marwood a good deal for his lack of political vision and his general near phobia of women. As a matter of fact, prior to Jehanna's invasion of Grado Alvin invited Prince Marwood to come to Grado for a visit, little did Alvin know that sinister things were about to take place.

Plot-Susceptive: Yes

Equipment and Items:
Steel Lance
Vulnerary
Fire Emblem

Personality: Alvin is a bright, carefree, and gregarious person. He hates responsibility and the "Stuffy nobles" that dwell in the castle and would much rather be out enjoying the open skies with Medea. Alvin's number one motto is "Why use a sword when a silver-tongue is a lot cleaner?" He's a peace-loving man who'll try his best to talk himself out of any situation.

He is the epitome of "Lordly courtesy" as he never forgets his manners, indeed he finds the best method to being diplomatic is courtesy and food, lots of food. He loves meeting new people and thoroughly enjoys the company of trusted friends.

Those friends he makes out of anyone he takes a liking to, a friend that the prince is quite intent on keeping, despite his father's objections, is the servant girl Calico, the prince finds her to be an incredibly interesting young lady.

Ability Assessment: Alvin learned to fight under the tutelage of General Nero and shares his mostly balanced fighting style, though he has a weakness against magic and bow users and slightly favors skill over strength. Indeed every thrust of Alvin's lance is a precise strike at an enemy's weak point or unprotected vital spot. He's mastered fighting astride his midnight blue Wyvern, Medea. Indeed they are so in tuned to each other Alvin can direct her with his knees leaving both his hands free to fight.

While Alvin is primarily a mounted combatant he isn't a slouch on foot, though he isn't as physically imposing as his father or other young men his age, he makes up for that in part by his weapon choice and in part by his fighting style. Alvin utilizes the spear's superior reach to deftly knock aside strikes and stay out of his enemies range. He uses swift footwork and some trickery to send his foes off balance. He excels at catching faster opponents and finding chinks in a heavier enemy's trusted armor.

Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other:
-Because of his fighting style requiring deft footwork Alvin is a very good dancer.
-He has adopted Garric's fondness of Apples.
-Enjoys fishing, the only thing he and his father ever really did together.
-Isn't particularly good at cards and despite being a cunning individual he's a terrible gambler.
-Enjoys and is very skilled at a variety of tactical boardgames.
-Has a rivalry with the knight named Griswal, both were trained by General Nero and they often have bouts to determine who's the better combatant.

R-button Summarization: Prince of Grado. Gregarious and diplomatic, though a fine warrior in his own right.

[User]
Ret crossed his arms, nodding approvingly at Archibald's choice to merely wound the soldier - and also to his question. It looks like this would not be too dIfferent from the good old days. With perhaps an even more righteous cause this time round? More righteous! The thought instilled vigor into him.

----------------------------------------

As the fighter charged the wyvern rider, his axe would suddenly erupt with a blinding light when electricity leapt from it towards it's wielder. Ret's right palm was facing the offending soldier and the book in his left fluttered in an unseen breeze, 'Over your dead body' Ret's stern scowl seemed to say.

[Assistant]
Watching as the soldier collapsed to the floor, clutching at his wound, Archibald narrowed his eye. 'Good...Strike back against those who have wronged you...make them suffer...' whispered a voice in his head, causing him to gasp in pain as he clutched at the right side of his face. "Now...is not the time!" he forced through gritted teeth as his hand clenched the bow hard, the other pressing down on his hair over the eye he had screwed shut. Shaking his head, his hair parted momentarily, revealing a flash of white. Whether it be a mask or talisman, no-one except him knew. And he intended to keep it that way. Suppressing his inner demons as he leaned against a wall, Archibald grabbed another arrow from his quiver and nocked it onto the string. Taking a step forward as he brought the bow up, he narrowed his eye again.

Focussing in front of him, sounds became duller as he ignored his environment, steadying his aim. His arm shook and he was visibly sweating. 'Spill their blood...' whispered the voice again, almost lovingly, 'an eye...for an eye...' Gritting his teeth again, his vision swam in and out of focus. The wyvern in front of him struggled as the axe-wielder jumped in, making a clear shot hard. The red and dirty white fletching of his arrow whistled faintly in a passing breeze as a scream was cut short. The wyvern darted in front of him again as his eye narrowed further. 'Take the shot...I care not where the blood spills from...' With each passing second, the voice grew more malevolent. The old wood of his bow creaked as he tugged the string tighter, resting it against his thumb against his cheek. The wyvern darted past again. With a thundrous crash, the fighter was struck with lighting, but that was not all. Startled, Archibald released the arrow, his eye widened as it flexed against the air pressure before soaring straight and true.

[User]
The fight was erupting into havoc. With Grado's own prince leading the group, the line of mounted units charged the reforming Jehannan offense. With some trepidation, the archer and spellcaster were also lending their aid to make short work of the incoming mercenaries. Redoubling his own efforts, Griswal hefted himself forward to fill the gap as he was supposed to.

At last able to put his armaments to use, Griswal approached one of the sword-wielding mercs trying to push his way through. Blocking the man's path, the Grado Knight thrust his lance forward to meet the man's abdomen. The pointed edge hit true, gutting the man just below the ribs before Griswal pulled back. Fighting off the painful shock to the stab, the swordfighter leaped up with a defiant cry to split the knight head in two. The armored man shifted himself enough for the sword to strike elsewhere - between his helm and pauldron, hacking slightly at his shoulder.

This twinge of pain did not go unregarded, as Griswal moved to shove the foe back with his huge shield. Between this and the man's own backpedaling, the two combatants were reduced to a brief standoff again. "You will not bar our path!" The Grado Knight cried out to the Jehannans in force.

[Assistant]
Alvin was a little surprised by the arrow that clipped his greave, actually he was downright shocked. Enough so that if the arrow didn't strike true and hit the enemy lancer Alvin wasn't likely to hit him either. The prince's head whipped to look behind him, spotting the offending archer. He'd never seen him before but apparently he was trying to help........Or not

He brought his attention back to the battle at hand, the lancer replaced by a warrior with an axe. Alvin knew he had to back off, if that warrior got too close he and Medea were finished. All it would take was getting inside the range of his lance, then the warrior could wreak some true havoc. With that thought in mind Alvin tugged on the reigns, causing Medea to pull back in response.

"Marwood now! The Warrior's all yours!" Alvin called as he drew back behind Griswal who was valiantly fighting a swordsman. In truth Alvin really wanted to help Lexa, unfortunately there was no way he could get in there to help. "After we finish this lot off there's only two more that stand in between us and the gate." He informed Griswal, in a rather serious tone coming from the prince. "Oh and if these guys are too fast for you Grizzly Bear I can handle them." The prince added in a tone that was much closer to what you'd expect.


[System]
BURNING BRIDGES FROM THE INSIDE OUT, ONE DAY I'LL BE STRONGER THAN MY OWN DOUBT
what did you think would happen when you put me in an unnatural space?

---
03 NOV 2149P L A C E O F B I R T H
Marseille, France, Earth.B I O L O G I C A L S E X
FemaleB L O O D T Y P E
O+H E I G H T
177 centimetresW E I G H T
62 KilogramsI M P L A N T S
L2

Kalyani hates her biotics.

Well, that's not quite right. Kalyani likes using her biotics. The ripple of eezo in her tissue, the way her skin burns as her corona flares to life, the rush of power when reality bends--that she'll never tire of.

It's just everything else. It's BAaT.

Her parents were just trying to help, she knows, but she can't help but hate their willingness to give her away. Conatix had promised they'd teach her. This was what was best for her, for humanity, they insisted. Their pretty words had won even Kalyani over. The idea of learning with others like her, training to be something greater, sounded wonderful.

Needless to say, BAaT didn't measure up to her expectations. 'Brain Camp' was a hilarious misnomer. It was no haven for bookworms like Kalyani; it was more a death by a thousand cuts. Her world narrowed from dreams of wandering the stars to the halls of Jump Zero. The incomprehensible emptiness of space left room for nothing else.

At least, she'd thought, she could go home when she came of age.

Upon reflection, that was rather naive. Five years of keeping her head down, of senselessly pushing herself to the brink, of trying to behave her way into freedom only made things worse. She'd excelled; Conatix had need of excellent mentors. And without a credit to her name, how exactly could she make her way back to Earth?

All this power and she can't get a fucking ride home.

[User]
It was going to be one of those days.

Life in BAaT was never pleasant, but it was usually less awful. Kalyani had perfected the art of keeping her head down. It was a solid strategy. There were nearly three hundred students stuffed into these soulless walls; they caused enough trouble to keep most of the instructors busy. She'd been lucky enough to take to her biotics quickly. Excelling was dangerous, and so she bit back every protest and made herself as bland as possible. It was enough to keep her safe.

Except, of course, when it didn't.

Court looked so scared. He'd been on Jump Zero maybe a year at the most, and he hadn't learned to keep his mouth shut. He had all the makings of trouble—anger and a stubborn refusal to accept his lot. A few years ago, he might have gotten off with extra training and a few months of restriction. Once he'd tired of the isolation and the hunger deep in his bones, he'd have learned. Awful, yes, but effective.

Throwing him to the wolves seemed needlessly cruel. What good could come of having a child--too young to even have his implants--try and fight? It didn't help. It was just senseless, inefficient even. Not that anyone cared. Not that she truly cared. She never said anything.

Kalyani breathed deep, the familiar tingle whispering through her skin.

And then fucking Nagamura mouthed off.

The training room flooded with whispers, little knives of viciousness and relief. Any time someone else was under the weight of turian eyes, the world got a little bit safer for the others. Kalyani turned her back on Court's pale face, trying not to let relief flood her veins prematurely.

Kicking the shit out of a scared little kid was one thing; fighting one of the assholes that drank the BAaT kool-aid was another thing entirely. Kalyani liked those matches.

Caelnus' mandibles flared with what seemed like interest. His head cocked to one side, unblinking stare moving between the two of them in blatant appraisal. A long, terrible moment passed. Turians didn't smile properly; they just bared their teeth, neat little lines of razors. It was a classic threat display. Effective.

"Permission granted," Caelnus' flanging voice seemed to echo in the stillness of the training room, ringing with amusement.

Court shuffled off the mat, looking particularly small against the gathering crowd of students. Kalyani supposed this was a Learning Experience. It was strange being a part of this, being the whip when she'd spent what felt like forever at its mercy.

Kalyani stepped back smoothly, dark eyes focusing on Nagamura as she found her place. Cruelty seemed etched in his every raw, jagged line, like BAaT had crawled inside him and flooded his veins. He was fire and ruthless competition, the same viciousness she'd seen in her own classmates, in her own silence.

A familiar prickle began to build at the base of her skull, an electric bite flooding her senses. One moment she stood tall and rigid, posture too perfect—and then she flowed, slipping into a neutral stance, hands aloft and at the ready. She could practically feel her nerves humming, yearning to fire. The skin around her implants itched, fiery hot, ever sensitive.

Her hands snapped, one arm drawing back, the other dropping low and grasping at air, fingers arched like claws. A rush of power screamed through her, silver and cobalt blooming from her skin in a violent corona. She pushed, throwing a line of screaming blue light, sparking as gravity caved to her will.

Again. And again. It was simple to move, gathering mass effect fields, body surging with negative current. It was like it rushed to answer her, like it wanted to obey. Her heart leapt at the thrill of it, at how the nodules practically burned in her tissue, like little suns burrowed into her flesh. They answered so readily to her simple throws, watching as they shattered in sparks against flares of barriers. Learning.

[Assistant]
Yoroi was stepping onto the faux-leather padding as soon as Caelnus gave his blessing, not bothering to watch Court disappear back into the mass of waiting students. Good that he'd gone for it--did the turian know it was better this way, or was he just looking for something more entertaining to watch? Yoroi didn't know or care. It had worked. Now it was just him in Kalyani.

Good.

He wasn't going to win this match. Say what you want about her, Madan knew her shit. You didn't get to Step Nine any other way, even taking five years to do it. Most of the time she was all limp kitten, putting in the bare minimum to pass the muster and make the hawks happy, but there were more than a few hard boys who'd found out the that when it came right down to it she was a fucking natural. Even now, watching her prime, Yoroi could tell by the way her aura _flowed_ that she was starting to get into it. He remembered his parents, his friends, the teachers at school after Conatix got through with their civilian party line--they might have gotten the kids there with promises of glory and distant horizons, but they'd gotten the signature on the permission form with fear.

Do you know what your child is capable of?
You've no idea what he'll do if he doesn't learn to control himself.
What if he flips out or something? I'm out, man, I'm not screwing around with no freak.
I'm not trying to alarm you, but in certain cases biotic episodes have been known to turn violent.

Yeah. Fucking cases like this one.

Yoroi had watched more than his fair share of the older students training--the instructors didn't like it, worried that some Step One jackass would lose it and breach something probably, but he'd seen some of what they were up to. He knew Madan was more than the wet blanket she pretended to be, and now he was going to feel it. Ready to dance, he settled himself in--

And she was already on him. He'd watched that glow slide right through her pale olive skin, eezo nodes jacked up and raring to go, and still he almost missed her first shot.

Almost. If there was something Yoroi was good at, it was barriers. Projection was his problem, controlling those rippling bolts of force she seemed to rattle off so easily, but his body was his turf. Like a samurai, he always thought to himself, never quite able to voice the stupid cliche aloud. Knight in shining armor. O-Yoroi. Can't beat what you can't hurt. Last moment or no his barrier was strong as anything, dissipating her torrent of strikes like water around a rock. It wouldn't hurt him, it couldn't hurt him--she might have all sorts of spin over Newtonian physics on her side of the court but her right to play with the spatial laws ended at his face.

She could do better than that. He knew it, and he was going to make her prove it.

Someone else would have taunted her. Al-Tariq would have said something shitty, called her a her something disgusting enough to make her mad, but that wasn't Yoroi's game. He didn't want to win, he wanted to win. To be so damn full of biotic fucking badassery that he could rip that taloned foot off his throat and take the leg with it. You didn't get there by being a brat--you got there by knuckling down and putting in the hours. Say what you wanted about him, Yoroi worked his ass off at BaAT and it showed.

Where Kaylani was flowing, natural, easy, Yoroi was sharp and efficient. His barriers came with a sharp clench of his right fist, his strikes with his left. His main issue in the ring was that he hadn't quite figured out how to manage one without weakening the other--focus he had plenty of, but multi-tasking? Firing without using that raw strength he had in his shield? It was tough, it took training and time he hadn't had, but that didn't mean there was nothing there. Kaylani's barrage was measured, sustainable, but each blow was weaker than his barrier by a good margin and there were enough of them to give him a good sense of how much strength he could spare. All he needed was to wait for the moment between one impact and the next--

Bingo. Kalyani was flowing-Tai-Chi, very Kung-Fu--Yoroi was Krav Maga, all sharp efficiency and vicious counterattacks. He primed-aimed-fired in the time it took him to snap forward his fist, a straight jab turned into a sledgehammer by the little eezo nodes humming under his skin. Though he didn't know it, there was one thing he and Madan were in complete agreement about.

There was nothing quite like that biotic ripple under their skin. Potential energy, literally--all potential.

It could be anything. It could do anything.

It could make Kalyani Madan wake the fuck up and try.


[System]
Alias: Inverse
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Appearance:

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

Occupation:
Manny makes his living gigging around Ville Rouge. He's pretty popular in a few of the bars and cafes, and is working towards having his own music studio.

Family:
Sonya Reed (mother); Richard McClain (father); Ellis McClain (older brother)

Personality:
Manny is quite the enigma when it comes to his emotions. Having been abandoned by one parent only to be fully embraced by the other has created a mixture of humility, sadness, determination, and compassion. He seems cool and collected most of the time, neither being the life of the party nor the buzzkill. At times, he feels he can be and do a bit more, but deeper issues keep him from embracing certain parts of himself.

Notoriety: Unknown
Class/Level: Class 4 / Red Level
Powers/Abilities:
Gravity Manipulation
Manny can alter his own gravity or the gravity of a given area, the largest being about the size of a school gymnasium. He also uses a few gravity-based attacks. Specific abilities include:

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

Other Skills:
As one would expect, Manny is quite musically talented, especially with the guitar and keyboard.

Equipment:
Manny never goes anywhere without his music player.

Bio:
Manny's parents met in their college years when Sonya, his mother, had come down to New Haven to go to med school. His father, Richard, who grew up in New Haven, was just starting his construction business which focused on restoring historical buildings around town. Sonya's original plans to return to her hometown were changed when Richard proposed and convinced her to stay in New Haven. Not wanting to keep any secrets, Sonya revealed to Richard that she was a Variant and had healing powers. This nearly ended their engagement, because Richard had a strong dislike toward Variants for reasons not fully disclosed. It was only his love and devotion to Sonya that allowed him to overlook it, though, the fact that her power is actually helpful to people may have had some influence as well.

Sonya had to pretty much beg for children -- the second being an easier sell because the first didn't seem to have powers. When it was discovered that Manny had powers, though, it was more than Richard could take. Even at a young age, he saw the potential danger that Manny's abilities possessed, and he knew he wouldn't be able to love his son the way he needed to be loved. Without any real explanation, Richard decided it was best for him and Sonya to be apart. Manny was too young to know what was going on at the time, and Sonya made sure that her love would keep him from feeling the sting of abandonment. Growing up, Sonya helped Manny develop his powers while always urging him to keep it to himself. He didn't quite understand why he had to be so secretive when his mom used her powers for work, but she always told him he would get it one day. When that one day came, Manny realized why his father left, and he resented him for it. Yet, even though Richard left his family because they were Variants, Sonya taught Manny to never be ashamed of who he was and what he could do, while still letting him know that he needed to be careful. For this reason, he had always been wary about revealing his power.

Name: Dante Romano
Alias: Sever
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Slightly taller than average, he stands at 5' 11" and has lean build. He dresses normally in jeans and t-shirts, and is rarely seen without his favorite green jacket, which was a gift from his uncle.

Occupation:
None

Family:
Maria Verona (mother); Giovanni Romano (father); Antonio Verona (uncle)

Personality:
As a result of his parents' divorce, Dante is usually very antisocial and doesn't really make friends or get in relationships. Though he is a very kind person, he'll usually try to break away from anyone trying to get close. His only real connection is with his mother and his uncle, which is the side of his family with Variant genes. Most of the time, he withdraws into his hobbies or simply escapes to a secluded place where he feels he can't be bothered. If one happens to break through the walls he's built - usually by having some common interest - they'll find that Dante is actually quite brilliant and rather creative. He often uses his power to gain all sorts of knowledge or multitask on supernatural levels.

Notoriety: Unknown
Class/Level: Class 4 / Blue Level
Powers/Abilities:
Replication
Dante is able to psionically create a perfect clone of himself and anything immediately on his person (as long as it is of natural origin). Each clone has an independent mind, though it is telepathically linked to the 'original'. The clones, however, do not have the power to replicate themselves. Dante is able to reabsorb his clones, gaining their knowledge, memories, and skills, though as a consequence of splitting into multiple selves, he can have some confusion over which Dante did what, which can skew his memories. Because Dante is linked to each clone, it takes a certain amount of unconscious power to keep them around. The stronger his power becomes, the more clones he can create. Currently, he is only able to create up to 6 clones without much trouble. If he tries to go beyond his limit without having the sure ability to do so, the replication would be noticeably imperfect or may not occur at all.

Other Skills:
Pickpocketing, Lockpicking, Street fighting, Pro-level gaming

Equipment:
Always carries a pocket knife

Bio:
Dante's parents, Giovanni and Maria, met while performing together on broadway. Maria's immensely captivating voice and ethereal beauty had earned her the starring role in the wildly popular Goddess of the Sky, a play about a goddess named Seraphis who was charged with defeating an evil entity. What made this play so popular was not the music, but rather the experience of watching. It was in this show that Maria had used her powers of weather manipulation to fill the arena with varying weather patterns, drawing the audience directly into every scene. The show was so popular, in fact, that it was taken on tour around the country. Shortly after the first tour, Dante was born to both his mother's and father's joy. He spent most of his childhood touring with his parents and watching them perform. During his teens, however, his family fell apart when Giovanni was caught in an affair and left Maria. Devastated, Maria's performances came to a screeching halt. She and Dante relocated to New Haven for a fresh start, though it did little to erase the trauma. Dante resented his father for abandoning him and his mother, and he was left pained and confused. He became antisocial and withdrawn, often wandering the streets of New Haven without much purpose other than to cause enough trouble to distract himself from the distress that engulfs him.

[User]
Tank kept moving through the alleyway navigating to get ever closer to the bank while having an eye out for any spare officers should they be patrolling. He had been fairly focused on the task at hand right up until he heard the first couple pops of fireworks causing him to make a quick stop to see just what was going on. From his position he could barely see the flashing lights but hearing the voice he knew well enough who this particular Variant was and though he didn't much care for the thief the man man one hell of a distraction for the crowds/cops. Would've been a shame if the guy got himself hurt in the process since he seemed to be on the better side this time around but not much could be done from here to help out even if the big guy wanted to. He shrugged and headed toward an intersection of sorts realizing he had even less time now with a show boater amidst them.

Girard hadn't been looking down when he felt a light bump against him earning his gaze as he watched a smaller man cover up what looked like a prosthetic on his arm under one of two gloves after seeming startled. Couldn't exactly blame him since it wasn't often you end up walking into someone like Tank on the streets or elsewhere, let alone outside of an active robbery. Once the man composed himself he guessed the right name and revealed who he was which was a nice relief to the big man since he was another vigilante. "Yeah that's me and your not kidding this is definitely more than a one person job with all the PD presence." Tank said looking down further and saw the same stray from before it clicking that something was definitely up but it didn't seem bad. "Whos your friend there?" He asked motioning for them to keep moving towards the building as they talked. The presence of one or possibly more other crime fighters eased the mind as dealing with this was not going to be so simple as usual and there was large margin for shit to hit the fan with or without them.

[Assistant]
-Excerpt From The Diary of John Merci-

{May 12, 2079}

Yesterday my latest subject had reached the end of his usefulness, far too soon for my taste. It is a sad fact which I have learned in my practice of this most noble of arts, men are simply inadequate to be a canvas. On the surface they may seem a better choice, being naturally more sturdy and possessing greater mass than the fairer sex. However this sturdiness is the main problem, men are simply less sensitive than women. While in theory this means that they can take more punishment, their reactions dull far quicker. It is depressing, but I must force myself to move forward.

My serfs have sent word with the latest delivery of cattle. The accursed government has finally turned it's eyes away from New Haven. This is excellent news. Many of my important tools were too conspicuous and bulky to be moved from my home. Though I have made do with what little I have to work with, my heart has missed my city. When I was younger I could never have imagined myself to be the sentimental sort, but there is more to it than simple nostalgia. Behind the lights of New Haven, there is a darkness that calls to me. It needs me to feed it's desire to corrupt even the purest of souls.

And so, tomorrow I shall return to my city, but tonight... tonight I feasted. It had been years since I had devoured so many at once, but transporting them all would just be a waste of time. The ecstasy I felt as I drained them was impossible to describe, for no one but my glorious self has ever had the chance to experience such a feeling. It was as if liquid sunshine poured through my veins, for a brief moment awakening my heart to the world. And then I remembered why I didn't gorge on the cattle.

I felt... guilty. As if all the actions I had taken were completely immoral. For a few minutes, I considered hanging myself, but remembered that I couldn't die. Fortunately this delusion quickly off, but for a brief time I felt like the cattle. And that sickened me more than anything else in this godforsaken world.