[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

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Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
A pit formed in Dahlia's stomach as she watched Quinn struggle, not just with the thought of the interview, but with having to pick a meal, too. Part of her knew the question was coming even before it was asked, and she scrambled inwardly for the right way to answer it. Was it better to refuse, to push back against the relapse and insist she make her own decision, or at least help her make one? Or was that too much? Would that make her feel worse, make her choice harder and set her back even further than she already seemed to be sliding.

She felt so helpless—something that had become more and more common since Hovvi. Seeing Quinn struggle was hard, and seeing her struggle now, with all the wonderful progress she'd made, was much harder.

But the interview was coming, and Dahlia knew that this little slip would be nothing in the face of whatever might happen if things went poorly tonight. So, with regret in her heart and as warm and understanding a smile as she could muster on her face, she took the menu away and sifted through it.

When the waiter came by, she ordered the burger and milkshake for herself, and a chicken basket with fries and an orange soda for Quinn. She tried to phrase it as if she was just reciting what Quinn had said she wanted.

Then she turned her attention to Quinn's interview worries. She'd be lying if she tried to say Mona wouldn't ask about the duel; Quinn had made a very bold and unprecedented decision, and people were…well, they were confused, and curious, and in other places they were mad but in Runa she'd seen mostly support.

"Just be honest about it. Be honest, and concise, and don't elaborate, y'know? Mona's been doing this a long time, she can pick up when her guest doesn't wanna talk about something. It's not like a news interview, she won't try to…catch you, or anything, if that makes sense?" She slouched over the table, trying to recall how she'd gotten through her own interview. "Just…talk about the things you like! No one really knows anything about you yet, and here's a hint—people love to hear about the day-to-day stuff we do. Talk about training, and sims, and even where we eat! It's really easy for folks to forget how normal we are, they like the reminder!

"Here! Like this. I'll ask you a question, and I want you to give me a short answer, and then, y'know, swerve it into a topic you do wanna talk about! Ready? Here: 'Hey, Quinnlash," she deepened her voice, even though Mona had a higher voice than she did. "'Everyone wants to know why you didn't kill the Helburkan girl! What's up with that?'"

[Assistant]
A similar pit opened in Quinn's stomach as Dahlia ordered for her. It wasn't that she didn't like what she'd ordered; honestly, she liked how Dane's did their chicken a lot, and she didn't mind orange soda any either. The fries were just a bonus. It was to be expected, Dahlia knew her tastes pretty well by this point. It was just...that it'd had to happen at all. She closed her eye and leaned back. She felt so powerless, like the anxiety and unease she'd fought so hard to shake off over the past weeks had her by the throat again and were choking her, clinging to her heels and dragging her down. She hated it. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!

But what else could she do? She was lucky that she had Deelie there. Really lucky. Otherwise she didn't know what she would've eaten at all.

Ah, but now the topic had shifted to something more productive.

"Everyone wants to know why you didn't kill the Helburkan girl! What's up with that?"

Sparing a moment to give a halfhearted grin at Dahlia's voice, she settled again afterwards, going quiet for some time. How did she swerve a topic? Deelie made it sound so easy, and for her it probably was. But Quinn barely knew how to hold a conversation to begin with, much less how to control the flow of one. What did she want to talk about? What did she like talking about? She...she didn't know. But this was going to happen no matter what she wanted, so...she needed to try, right?

"Well," she started slowly, almost halfheartedly, "That's...not the kind of pilot that I am, or that I want to be, you know?" Unbeknownst to her, her voice started to pick up a bit; more animated, more engaged, louder, warmer. "It doesn't make any sense to me; shouldn't pilots be working together instead of tearing each other apart? I'm a pilot because I want to protect people. So I just don't understand why I would need to kill someone, or be killed by someone, for something that seemed so petty at the time, you know?"

She blinked, and realized that she'd been talking for longer than she intended and she'd gotten louder than she wanted. She realized people were staring at her and snapped her mouth shut.

"...Was that okay?"


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: Fists. Send help.

Crow's Beak: Crow's Beak is, at its core, an alternative form of the ubiquitous poleaxe-- a Lucerne Hammer. Also known as a Bec de Corbin (from which the moniker 'Crow's Beak' has been derived), this weapon is characterized by the four-pronged hammer at its head, curved spike upon the opposite side (the eponymous "beak"), and an even longer spike that extends from the top of the haft.

In the case of Crow's Beak, the shaft of the weapon is long and sturdy, extending well above his head at six feet even. Rather than one solid unit, though, the bottom half twists off into a semi-automatic shotgun, providing Luke with some now sorely needed ranged offense, whist the top half simply maintains its original function as a slightly long-handled warhammer. Finally, the aforementioned, sole piece of carryover his original weapon comes in the form of that topmost spike, now a thin yet sturdy coil of steel that retains the stabbing capabilities of the classical design whilst gaining an additional boring (as in the ability to bore through something) utility, in case sturdy armor should be encountered that he cannot simply smash, shoot, or stab through.

Specialty: Close-Quarters Combat, with a focus on all aspects of unarmed fighting as well as simply outlasting opponents through sheer guts and an advantageous semblance. Not a tank so much as a sponge, and not the tip of the spear so much as the glue keeping everything else in one piece. Soon to begin working on middling and longer ranges.

Semblance: Healing Blood: Rather than focusing primarily on the defensive, shield-like capabilities that most Auric individuals come to take almost for granted, Luke's semblance causes it to take an almost entirely different route when dealing with physical trauma— rather than outright absorption and nullification, his aura instead fuels massively overdriven levels of healing. In essence, rather than stack up defenses, Luke's method of survival is always being able to get back up for more after something flays him alive. While still tougher than a normal human by leaps and bounds, you're more likely to see him spilling blood than any other Hunter. This is, in actuality, not quite a bad thing— that same aura-charged blood, when in contact with another's wounds, will impart similarly accelerated restorative effects until it evaporates. In a way, it befits him: To be knocked down seven times means you must stand up eight, and to help others means you must be willing to invite harm upon yourself.

Personality: Luke is a person that can be described, plainly put, as "selfless to a fault". Driven by a deep-seated sense of justice and desire to become a hero, all it usually takes for him to want to step in and help someone is a moment of weakness, or the sign of someone being in need— something he often denigrates as him just being nosy and incapable of leaving well enough alone when he takes issue with something. That same sense of self-deprecation colors a good portion of his self-esteem; he has pride like any other guy, and will stand up for himself if under what he deems as undeserved attack, but his admiration for those he is surrounded by far outweighs that which he holds for himself. Prone to monologuing in his own head, he is a natural conversationalist even in spite of his status as a "recovering pariah", equally capable in the roles of both straight man and wise guy. This is why, to some, he may seem like a simply good-natured, friendly young man with a keen ability to laugh at himself— rather than the fairly melancholic and snarky, if permissive fellow lying beneath the surface. In some ways he's a walking contradiction, being silly and sober in the same breath— just as he values and preaches safety overmuch for someone almost suicidally willing to rush into danger for the sake of another. Too smart to ignore his faults and too dense to acknowledge his virtues, "selfless" really does fit the bill— for the value he places upon himself can be practically nonexistent.

Color: Black Hole

Emblem:

Appearance:

A bit on the short side, at 5'7. Athletic physique, as is the standard for those putting themselves through the type of physical training necessary to even think of becoming a hunter, if on the slimmer side of things. Interestingly, that little hair-antenna seems to be some form of indicator of his emotional state, easily as expressive as the rest of him, gray eyes included. Tends to like hoodies, sneakers, and jeans or khakis whenever not in uniform. Hailing from a town in the mountains near the northern tip of Vale as he does, even the long days spent outdoors hiking and training in preparation for his enrollment at the academy haven't done much to change his medium complexion, and his relatively long and straight black hair makes for good insulation in the wintertime.

[User]
[color=grey]Naoko- Aura Control Class[/grey]

Naoko listened intently to what the teacher was saying. Despite being a senior, every tiny titbit of information was another step closer to becoming a better fighter, and the potential of what laid before him was astonishing. To be able to control your own aura like that, it's almost like another weapon. Unfortunately, throughout the class, Naoko had difficulty perfectly repelling the attacks of his partner. To focus so intensely like that probably required more than one session of training and probably a tiny bit of talent as well. I mean, class was fine, but Naoko would much prefer a mission. Experience in the field and whatnot.

[Assistant]
Delta Snow - "What happens in Vale, stays in Vale"

(Changing the text color of Delta so it's a bit more noticeable. ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/ )

"So… Are you sure we should still leave him be?" Eve whispered to Delta as they both stared at Robert a few rows down, who still had talked with either of his teammates. The man was wallowing in self-pity. Both of them were witnessing the plight of a bespectacled adolescent, twiddling his thumbs, drowning in a sea of angst. "Eh. This is kind of nostalgic. Remember that one guy from boot? Name started with a Y? Cried for his mother the first day we were there?" The two bared a striking resemblance, since nobody seemed to answer their cries for help.

"How about now?" Eve poked again worriedly, Delta slightly shook his head instantaneously in response. "A little bit longer. Let's see if he notices or something happens." Finally, a beacon of hope waltzed over to the loner, bearing gifts of conversation and recognition of his existence. Whatever she was saying was inaudible over the bounds of volume emanating from the slew of topics being flung about the room, but at least she was chatting with the redhead.

A sigh of relief slipped out of his lips, allowing him to ease his posture. "It's alright, besides…" The student trailed of when he heard someone beckoning for him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Grane next to what he presumed to be an old friend of his, with a grin wider than the circumference of Remnant's sun stretched across his face. He had to admit, he was a bit surprised to see the guy in such a giddy state. Delta presumed Grane sported a scowl 24/7, but it just goes to show one can't judge a book by its cover. Well, unless that cover is drenched in scotch, then maybe a conclusion or two could be made. The boy tilted his head at the hand motion his comrade made, it took a few minutes for him to realize that he was supposed to make his way over to the two.

He quietly pushed his chair back and paced towards them. They seemed to be reminiscing over something, maybe about their probably colorful past with each other. Grane promptly introduced the faunus of the hour as Gren Orchid. Delta peered down at the outstretched hand and slowly leveled his own, still a bit new to socializing with people his age. "Likewise. Oh, last name's Sn-"

All at once the rage of a thousand young suns set upon his volar region. The student winced slightly, but kept an overall blank expression as the two shook hands, "...-ow." He managed to eek out the last fragment of the sentence before he retracted his hand back into solace. The boy rolled up each phalange, just to make sure they were still operational. Grane spurred on the conversation by bringing up their team leader, who they had only known for about an hour at the most. He did find it a bit early to start making statements, but given Robert's uneasy demeanor, the faunus' comments were warranted. "Well, there's still much left to be seen. I wouldn't critically analyze him yet. I've had a few squadmates in the past who started circulating assumptions of other members, ended up creating a whole incohesive unit." He firmly stated, then took a double take on Robert, "But even I'll admit that he needs a morale boost." Delta commented with his monotonous tone, plucking a stack held together by tattered rubber bands and thereby proceeded to pocket it. At least Gren came prepared, perhaps he would pursue a life of an entrepreneur after he retires as a huntsman. He certainly found a way to get on people's good sides. That steak sounded pretty alluring right now.

"You're right, we haven't even checked out the city yet! It will be a good learning experience~. Maybe we'll find a few restaurants which prepare chicken!" Oh yeah. That's why birds hated Eve. The familiar had remained silent during the entire conversation and finally decided to chime in. "Oh, sorry. I'm Delta's semblance, Eve. Pleased to meet you, Gren." It bowed its head as a greeting, "I've got a person or two in mind. I'll grab… What did you refer to him as again? 'Sad Sack'?" He spun around on the ball of his foot and began to descend the steps leading to Robert's row.

"You're not drinking."

"I know." Delta followed up without skipping a beat.

"Not a single drop."

The boy stopped next to Robert and a student he was conversing with. "Hey Robert! What's with the sullen look? Anyways, Delta was wondering if you wanted to go out with him and a few classmates later on. It'd be nice to have another person who knows their way around the city on board!" The young soldier presented not one, but two cards in his palm. Eve raised an eyebrow, but suddenly picked up on what its companion was denoting, "Oh, and you're free to come along too, miss…?" Eve trailed off as it looked up at the girl. She appeared to be the same age as Delta, armed with cyanic irises which mesmerized the familiar. A whole lot more interesting than the monochrome slate grey the student bearing it was born with. Hopefully her name was just as interesting.

[User]
Violet Steel

"I'll retrieve this Crimson Volk from the station." Violet declared. With Valin already offering to be the distraction for the Vale Hospital mission it was really the only option she had. She was about to head over to the blue box and pick up the mask needed for the mission when Amber spoke to her. She slowly turned towards him, looking at him with a cold stare.

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen well. I didn't join this group to get shacked up. I joined because I believe what we're doing is for the good of the entire world, that's it. I don't know why you and the others joined, and frankly I don't really care. Just do your part, and I'll do mine." She turned and began to walk away, before pausing and looking at Amber with the corner of her eye.

"And about the whole getting me 'wet' thing…that's sexual harassment… don't do it again." Without another word to Amber she walked over to the cardboard box and pulled out the mask that would identify her as a member of a local gang. She saw no reason to delay her rescue attempt of Crimson Volk and simply left the warehouse.

[Assistant]
Robert Fallson - History Class

"Huh?" Robert replied as a girl he couldn't remember the name of said something. "Sorry, were you talking to me? I don't think I caught that." He had been distracted when Cian sat down, listening to the conversation between Gren, Grane, and Delta. It certainly wasn't Robert's proudest skill, but over the years he had gained an exceptional talent for eavesdropping on things that he wasn't supposed to hear. Back in his old life, it was practically required for him to listen in on other people talking, because the more information you knew on your mark, the better the chances that you would get away.

Part of him wanted to tell his team that he wasn't usually like this, all depressing and sulky, it was just a combination of recent events. Running into the White Fang again after so many years, his team going missing, the possibility that the boy from earlier might be connected to what happened. It was hard not to be a little dow- Oh no, Delta's coming over.

"Oh hey, Eve. What's going on? You here to tell us about Gren's par-" He let it slip. Now Delta and Eve would know that he heard everything. This could get awkward. Knowing there was no way to take back those words, Robert finished his sentence, "-ty?" He gave an awkward smile to his teammate and his little semblance.


[System]
Physical: Fang is a tall, muscularly lean woman. She has rough hands and wears foot wraps instead of shoes. Her lightly colored robes are maintained out of devotion to her goddess. Even still, the dark tattoos that wrap up and down her muscles are the most awestriking. Each one is intricately designed and it no doubt took years to acquire them all. Her head is shaved as a show of devotion to Shangri-La, and she has light olive skin. Despite her tough appearance, though, she has gentle brown eyes and a friendly face.

Abilities:
• Summoning magic. Fang's body is covered by a variety of tattoos, a host to depictions of animals and even weapons. The amount of energy she puts forth can affect how many summons she can control and how big they are. The animals found across her body include two snakes, a tiger, a bear, a turtle, and a phoenix. The weapons, usually incorporated in the intricate animal designs, include a staff, two swords, a bladed polearm, and knives. When being used, the summon's tattoo disappears. It takes energy to maintain the summons' physical forms for extended periods of time, but she can also dismiss them as she pleases. However, the tattoos won't immediately reappear once dismissed from the physical plane; over the course of a day, they will appear faded and then dark again once ready for use.

• Martial arts. Not only is Fang a fearsome master of her tattoos, she is trained in a style of fighting developed by followers of Shangri-La. The focus of this technique is to strike from afar and bring an opponent down in closer quarters. It's a style of fighting made to use an opponent's own force against them.

• Magic & soul sense. Through meditation and practice, Fang is able not only to sense the presence of magic or souls, but to also loosely read people and their intentions. It's, of course, fallible as the human and humanoid experience is vast.
Starting Gear: Save for the clothes on her back and a flat blade for maintaining a shaved head, Fang has no material possessions and seems to have no interest in keeping any.

Personality/Goals: Fang wishes to serve Shangri-La in maintaining a humble life and serving the greater good. A minority among her monastery, she was trained as a warrior, and is allowed to bend the otherwise strict rules of nonviolence. Even so, she maintains a demeanor of relaxation and is slow to anger. Beyond the years of training under her religion, Fang is kind. She has a surprisingly broad sense of humor, though likely developed later in life due to a sheltered upbringing in the monastery. Her journey alone is meant to push the boundaries of her devotion, however.

Backstory: Like most of the monks she grew up with, Fang was orphaned as a baby and left at the temple. She was trained among young boys and girls in the way of Shangri-La, a goddess figure. Unlike most of her peers, however, Fang displayed a rare affinity for magic. As a direct result, her training was altered and she was raised into the rare warrior role of her religion. She is a recent graduate of the student title, and is now traveling the world to reach a higher form of enlightenment and acquire the title of master.

Other Stuff:
• Followers of Shangri-La are known for their intricate tattoos and peaceful, charitable ways of life. Traveling monks receive mixed reactions, though: some are charitable and hospitable to monks, others see them as bums. They have a large following, but due to religious purges and wars, their numbers have been decreasing. Warriors like Fang are a minority and relatively new development as a defense against the violent world. Older monks in the religion may not agree with this development.

[User]
Sharadur

---

Sharadur heaved a mighty sigh, even as she shivered slightly from the cold. It looked like rain, and that was just fucking great. Most of her life, she never really minded the rain- after all, if you didn't like getting wet, you probably had no business aboard a ship to begin with. Here on the mainland things were different. Bundled up in layers of leather and metal that already felt strange and foreign to her, it only ended up making things even more miserable when she found herself soaked by a sudden downpour.

Eventually, she did manage to arrive at her destination. And what a dismal sight it turned out to be, just some run-down dump of an ancient fort that was probably older than dirt itself. Whatever jackass had sent for her obviously couldn't even be bothered to request a meeting in someplace remotely civilized, like a nice cozy tavern. Nope, instead they had elected to go all in on the spooky atmosphere to try and impress people. Nothing but pomp and ceremony was what these mainlanders truly valued in life, so how could she expect anything less?

Well at any rate, she was late. Her horse had thrown a shoe some miles back and it had taken her way more time than she cared for to get that taken care of. That meant she was the one who got to barge in all super-importantly right into the middle of some dimly-lit room, most likely right after someone dramatically stabbed a dagger into a map or asked if there were any final questions. Maybe her mysterious patron would even be pleased with how neatly she would be fitting into their little scene, if the choice of venue was any indication of how they operated. Bursting through the door to the large room where the current group of people had gathered, she ultimately ended up announcing her presence in a somewhat less than dramatic fashion. "Fuck me, it smells like an ogre's asshole in this dump."

Casting her gaze about briefly, she scanned the people assembled. While she frowned momentarily at the large orc, it was when she caught sight of the robed figure exuding green fart clouds like a goddamn fairytale villain that she seemed to decide on who was responsible for the current situation. Striding over to the table, she seated herself. Yet, after about thirty seconds of squirming and unsuccessfully attempting to re-position herself more comfortably, she gave up and realized that she might have just preferred standing this whole time. "I hope for your sake that shit ain't flammable." She muttered, shooting Mr. Greensmoke a glance as she did so. With that, she clapped her hands together briefly. When she drew her hands apart, a small ball of fire sparked to life between them. Letting out a sigh of relief as warmth flooded into her body from the small flickering flame, she found herself inwardly irritated that it had taken a bit more effort than usual to conjure up something so small.

"Whelp, I'm here now. Whaddaya want?" She demanded, addressing the plaguebringer after naturally assuming he was the one in charge of this carnival she felt herself getting more deeply caught up in even as she spoke. He certainly seemed to fit the bill, once everything else about this situation was taken into account. Obviously, he was here to offer her a magical adventure through rainbowland to retrieve his magical unicorn-horn trumpet before the great demon prince "Lord Superbad McMean" used it to ruin everything forever. Either that, or he could just as easily be some asshole petty noble who thought his minor inconsequential problems to be extra important for the sheer reason that they involved himself and thus felt the need to hire all the big guns to deal with his small problems. Either way, if it paid well, she was probably in.

---

[Assistant]
A mismatched crew indeed. Well, that was what the old mage summoned, and that is what he got at any rate. He sensed others, late to arrive, but not far away. No matter. They would come or they wouldn't. There were already more than enough individuals for the task.

The first person spoke. 'Old Mage'. Well, it was a name. The rest of the question was simple and well presented. He would grace that with a... relatively straight answer.

"Well, to tell you that, perhaps I should say what I once did." The old mage leaned forwards and placed an elbow on his leg. "My task for the past... ten... twenty... fifty... oh, never mind, long time-" he rested his head atop that elbow- "Was handling problems. Little things, larger things, all the things you don't hear about very often. The mage who burns down a city, the mage who tries to take a kingdom for himself, the child with ridiculous magic from birth, a demon popping out of nowhere, all that - that was my job to handle. You don't hear about it very often, because it is handled. Now I'm old. Now someone needs to take that job, and I figure, who better than a capable crowd of beings such as yourselves. You'll do at least."

The next question was also predictable. That one, alas, he did not have a straight answer for. "What am I. Ah..." the mage leaned back and toyed with his bony chin. "You know, I've asked myself that for a few years now. I'm not quite sure. But I can say, at an early point in time, I was very mortal. I knew magic, certainly, but very mortal. What I am now, well, that's a tricky question. Who I am, that is up to you. I have many names, none that you would know. It is expedient to have several names in this business. I have my mage name, the name I give to demons, the names I give to some mages, names for dimwitted villagers, and a few names for more practical purposes than speaking. But, you can call me Kune. It's as good a name as any..."

The answer probably gave more questions than anything else, but the mage gave a small nod, satisfied that he said that much. Then he thought. "Is it cold in here? I can't tell. Tell me if this seems off." The mage flicked his finger, casting several red sparks up into the air, where they quickly expanded into small red mists that vanished in the air. Moments later, the temperature went up several degrees. "Mmm, that might do it."

He watched the others in the room, seeing what there was to work with. One with a whiff of demon, one who seemed to have a few... health problems. It was interesting to him for watch those interactions as they happened. Especially amusing was the fact that the plague bearer was taken as the leader in one case. He didn't lift a finger to correct that impression.

[User]
Orkag did not like the answer of the old mage, he found out a name, but it was most likely not even his true name. For a few moments he glared at the old mage again, trying to read him and his intentions, but other than his powerful aura, he simply looked like an old man. Orkag growled slightly in frustration and closed his eyes. However, as he closed his eye, Kune could see that the second magical raven, the one on his shoulders was staring straight towards him to analyze him.

As the raven looked around and studied the motely crew that had gathered, it noticed something out of the ordinary, not the plaguebringer, who people already seem to have thought to be the leader of this new band of people, but the young catgirl curiously looking around at everyone. The raven looked at her only for a moment longer before it left it's place on the small outcropping and flew towards her, gently landing on her shoulder careful not to harm her with it's claws and it looked at her with pools of a deep blue.

After a few moments of simply staring at her, the raven started to nuzzle it's head at the catgirl in what could possibly be as one of the ways the raven showed affection. Moments after, the raven jumped in her lap simply nested there, closing it's eyes and simply waiting.

What are you doing, you stupid raven, you're supposed to survey the area! Orkag asked the raven telepathically, only to receive no answer from it at all.

With another sigh of frustration he turns towards the old mage and nods briefly, before turning and walking towards the where his raven had landed, at the catgirl, without realizing that someone like him might scare someone like her with his looks in general.

"Girl..." He wanted to ask the girl what she had done to his raven, however, upon noticing her cat ears, he stopped in mild amazement towards it. However, as he thought, he realized that shouting at a little girl would not make him seem very friendly, so instead, he took in a deep breath and asked in a much calmer tone.

"Sorry for the rather abrupt question, young girl, but what's your name... a better question, that I hope isn't too rude, what are you?" he asked once more, this time sitting down a seat apart from her as to not intimidate her too much and simply awaited the answer.

[Assistant]
FangWhile she didn't have a reason to trust the old mage, Fang wasn't too concerned about distrusting him either. The words he spoke seemed genuine enough, if vague. She nodded in acknowledgement of his explanations and glanced around at the others and found herself uncomfortable. Even with the cold, wet weather dampening her magic, she could sense not all magic was equal among her fellow magic users. Some of it seemed quite dark, and her gaze lingered on the large orc and the tall mage with a raspy voice and cloud of sickness. She refrained from verbal judgement, her attention flickering back to the old mage as he shot sparks from his fingers. She was pleasantly surprised that the room began to heat. How lovely.

The woman beside her had been radiating warmth, however, and Fang found her rough around the edges, but charming. She would have introduced herself, but she didn't have the time as the orc caught her attention again instead. She watched as he talked to the youngest member of the group. He asked a question no doubt on the minds of many, and she watched quietly, waiting on the girl's response. She supposed formal introductions were in order now that everyone has arrived.


[System]
Firebender | Late Teens | Female

Appearance:
Arrin is fairly tall for her age, standing at roughly five foot seven. She has amber colored eyes with long, with overall fairly good looking sharp features. Her skin is a dark color from a constant tan from being out in the sun, usually avoiding work or other responsibilities in favor of taking a nap. Her clothing consists of fairly standard Fire Nation clothing. Long, dark red color pants with some fairly comfortable boots. On her torso, she wears a sleeveless vest that covers just her chest, leaving her midriff quite open. Her arms are adorned with simple gloves.

Equipment:
Equipment? Well, aside from always carrying some Mangos on her to snack on or something, she doesn't carry much. Carries food and other supplies in a sack slung over her shoulder, along with a map of wherever she's around at the moment.

Personality:
Now, if one were to describe Arrin in a few words, it'd be 'Lazy, apathetic, and sleeps way to goddamn much'. Of course, those are the words her parents call her when getting on her case about slacking off and avoiding chores and work. They aren't entirely wrong, either. Arrin takes a rather lackadaisical jokester approach to most things, and it's fairly evident in the way she acts and talks. She takes her time with her words, often taking a few seconds to completely reply to someone. Sometimes, it might seem like she's not even listening and has fallen asleep. Some, though take a bit further and say she's a bit on the slow side because of it.

Well, they couldn't be more wrong in that department. While she is probably not the smartest girl out there, she's far from dull or slow-witted. In fact, she thinks she's got life all figured out. Everyone's so worried about their businesses profits, what the next nation over is doing...if they just took the time to slow down and smell the Fire Lillies, then maybe they'd stop stressing over every little thing and have a bit more fun with life. Arrin takes everything in stride, and doesn't let...well, anything really get to her. She'll laugh off most bad remarks someone might make about her, she'll take any conflict with the same lackadaisical approach she does everything else, and often time comes off as incredibly and unusually calm when dealing with what some might call a major problem.

That said, well...she lacks motivation for just about anything, and is just coasting through life at the moment without any goals or plans for the future. She lives most in the here and now, and plans ahead very little, taking a 'she'll take it as it comes' approach to events. If something bad happens, well, big whoop, it happens. If something awesome happens, well, good for her. Point is, she doesn't care what happens in the future, and as such lacks any motivation to achieve anything.

However, despite her calm and lackadaisical approach to most things, one should be aware she does have a horrible temper. It doesn't come out very often since she tends to bottle up her anger and negative emotions for the perceived betterment of everyone else. That means, at times, when she's had a particularly bad day - as rare as they might be - she might just have had enough and literally explode on you. She holds grudges, and if she doesn't like you, or if you have offended her in some way...well, you can expect to receive a cold shoulder and a third degree burn.

She also well, doesn't really concern herself much with others and more or less just looks after herself. While she certainly would help those she called friends in her own special way...well, she's not about to go through a lot of trouble for some random guy on the street.

History:
Arrin's history is...well, rather boring and mundane, to be honest. Her father was a firebender, serves in the military, on a Fire Nation ship. Her mom ran a rather pleasant little tea shop, and greatly enjoys drinking the stuff herself. Some people like to joke that her mom drank so much relaxing tea, that it's the cause of Arrin's rather relaxed approach to life. Most of her early life consists of well...what she always does. Avoiding work, sleeping, and generally being Lazy. She hasn't really changed all that much at all since she was a kid - though some argue that she still is one despite almost being a young adult.

She lived in the Fire Nation capitol most of her life, though she was born in her moms home village some distance away. She had a fairly easy, calm life growing up, and is quite well traveled. Her father often liked to take his family with him to distant ports in all the nations, and she's been to the Earth Kingdom, the Southern and Northern water tribe, though she's never once step foot anywhere near the Air nomads.

It was after one such voyage when she returned home, she met her first pokemon. A small little Chimchar that had somehow managed to sneak its way into the family's house and munch on their food and tea. Her mother was furious, her dad laughed...and she, well, hugged the thing, and after some discussion and persuasion, she was allowed to keep the Chimchar, as long as she stopped slacking off so much. For a time, well, she did, but old habits die hard, as they say.

Her life continued fairly much the same since then. Her parents getting on her case about stopping being lazy and putting some work ethic into things. Her father taught her the basics of firebending, and her mom managed to drill some tea-related things into her head. Eventually, though, she...well, got tired of it. The constant harping of her parents. It was mostly her mom, really, telling her that she should start working better around the shop or join the military like her father. And well...one day, she just had enough of it.

She packed some mangos, other fruit, a map, took all the money she could find in the house...and left.

Aspirations:
Arrin, well, she needs motivation and some goal of her own. She currently doesn't really have one, and is just coasting through life doing...well, whatever she wants and dealing with whatever the world throws at her as calmly as she can. While this isn't necessarily a bad thing, she does need a goal and some motivation to work towards that goal. This goal...well, can be anything really. It might end up being bad in the long run, or good.

Chimchar| Chim | Male
Personality:
Chim, well, has a similar approach to Arrin about most things. He likes napping and generally not doing work. However, he does have a bit of a mischievous streak in him and often likes to mess with people in some fashion. He also tends to like fighting, and take it fairly seriously and won't back down from a challenge. He'll often pester Arrin to train with him, which she begrudgingly will agree to most times.

Fighting Style:
Dodge incoming attacks, get close, and hit hard enough to KO them in a single punch. That really, well, describes Chim's fighting style. He prefers physical or physically augmented flame attacks in battle, while dodging attacks from his opponents. However, he's not adverse to using ranged attacks to his advantage if he must.

How the Pokemon will Evolve:
She's heard of a few methods, though mostly from her father. Training alone in an area with intense heat such as a volcano, overcoming some physical limitation through intense physical training, eating a bunch of spicy peppers...and well, the list gets more and more ridiculous and likely more untrue with each one. Personally, though, she doesn't care too much. He'll evolve when he evolves. That's about it.

Desired Second and Third Pokemon:
Luxray and Flygon at the moment, those these will likely change depending on character development if she doesn't already have one.

[User]
Yaze Nikasai
Yaze smiled good naturedly at the mango girl. She seemed pretty wound up right now, so it was understandable that she would misinterpret his intentions. "Relax, I was just cracking a joke." Before he could continue however, a trio of individuals giving off a fairly negative vibe emerged from the tavern. Two men and a scraggy, who Yaze was careful to not look at directly. The firebender stood by as they gave mango girl a hard time, before eventually moving on. "I think that was uncomfortable for both us. Do you have a name though? Or am I going to have to call you nameless-attractive-mango-girl?" Just a moment later, the girl from the roof dropped down to his right.

"Wow, that guy needs to stop and smell the Fire Lily's. Maybe he's disappointed he didn't get a Mango dropped on him?" Yaze opened his mouth to reply, before realizing that the statement wasn't directed at him, before going ahead and speaking his piece anyways.

"I agree." Well, he didn't exactly say anything impressive, but then again, he never promised anything impressive either. Yaze figured that all was right with the world, with that knowledge safely nestled in his brain.

"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held?" Well! Another arrival, this one a waterbender. As the Water Tribesman asked for directions, Yaze spied another individual approaching. A female that appeared to be of Earth Kingdom descent. O, mysterious tavern, thine powers art great, why must thou summoneth so many to this place? Mine heart knoweth thine truth, but mine brain fathom it not. O, mysterious tavern, I implore thee, make thine intentions known! The firebender chuckled once, lightly.

[Assistant]
Satomi

As the Earthbender passed by, Satomi shot a scathing look of annoyance, and nothing more. No need for a bigger scene to keep those jerks around..I'll let it go. She rolls her eyes and strides forward to join the group now surrounding the mango splattered girl. She was occupied with the fruity sight, noticing chunks of mango scattered upon the ground about her, until she saw the culprit jumping down from the roof carelessly.  Well, she doesn't seem mean, just reckless.

"Sorry, that was my last one too."

A look of bewilderment spread slowly across Satomi's face, as she began, "Wait, I didn't wa-" Cutting herself off, she realized that it would be no use to argue. She sighed and looked back at the mango-tosser. "Never mind, just..watch your stuff. That probably hurt her."
She reached back and pet Katori reassuringly, noting the crowd gathering around. He was no doubt getting nervous, but groups of people like this are bound to have information on the festival events and locations. Sticking around couldn't hurt.

"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held?"

Turning her head toward him, she shrugs. "No clue. I'm here to kind of figure that out as well, among other things." Questions about some trainers or casual sparring spots sat on the tip of her tongue, but she held it and opted to listen more and gauge her surroundings.

[User]
Ｓ Ｕ Ｕ
NOGII ISLAND, OUTSIDE THE TAVERN

Suu carefully pulled off her feathered headpiece and let her long hair flow free by pulling out the band holding it back. She could feel one of the others stroking his hands across her head and carefully scoop out the chunks of fruit. While Miki's grooming process was taking place, Suu thought it'd be best to reply to Yaze's original enquiry about her name.

"I'm Suu, and today has not been the best of days," she finally replied, feeling less burdened by the pain that was passing through her head and more annoyed at how messy she looked. She listened carefully to what each of the others were saying, noting that eventually the topic seemed to change towards the Equinox Festival.

Suu knew a little bit about the festival from what some of the Tavern patrons were discussing. There seemed to be an assortment of attractions from various markets to performances, and even the highly awaited Tournament. The tournament was held within a large, specially built arena which was surrounded by the four camps of each of the four nations. It was a place that allowed for the simple accommodation of many travellers for the sole reason of participating in the games, while containing an assortment of open areas that allowed for training and practice before each match. Not every entrant was using these facilities however with a few heading out towards the forests for more privacy. Many of the public onlookers were other competitors and they spent their time jotting down notes and observing different techniques for their own personal research.

"I believe the Tournament is over towards the south of the island near the harbour port. I passed it when I first came to the island and noticed the Earthbenders were forming the stadium," Suu spoke out loud as she licked her fingers clean. You couldn't blame her for taking advantage of the mango knowing it couldn't go to complete waste. "Oh my lord! This stuff is everywhere!" she cried out, feeling a small chunk drip down her back.

As Suu arched her back and hastly attempted to reach around with her arms in order to grab the piece, an Waterbender boy came jogging up towards the small group. "Miki! Miki! There you are!" He was young and looked like he hadn't even reached puberty yet, but what he lacked in age and size he made up for in juvenile energy. "Papa sent me out to look for you when you never appeared at the Avatar's Temple. He told me you get lost easily, but it's so cool! there's statues off all different Pokemon! Some I never even heard of!"

[Assistant]
"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held? I seem to have gotten separated from the rest of my healing squad, they said they would escort the Avatar there... So if you could tell me where I need to go I would be in your debt!"

Arrin gave Miki a friendly smile as he walked up and introduced himself, though she said nothing as Chim climbed his way up and took a rest on her shoulder. Arrin simply continued to give everyone a lax smile as they conversed, content not to say anything for the moment. In her opinion, they were getting along very well! Well, aside from Satomi who seemed to have some concerns about Suu being hurt from having a mango dropped on her.

This caused Arrin to gaze somewhat intently at Suu, trying to discern if she was, in fact, hurt in some manner. She seemed fine, but she admittedly wasn't the best when it came to dealing with people sometimes.

"I'm Suu, and today has not been the best of days,"

At hear that, Arrin immediately smiled and looked at Satomi, completely seeming to Ignore Suu's exasperation about it 'being everywhere'.

"See? She's fiiiine. Mangoes make everyones day better." She smiled at Satomi, seemingly completely uninterested in the tournament. She wasn't here for that, after all, though it did sound somewhat interesting. Maybe she could watch it with these guys? It'd certainly be cool. No way in hell was she participating though. She wasn't exactly good at that sorta stuff. "So what's this tournament anyways?"


[System]
Game Origin: Street Fighter IV
Appearance:

[User]
Level 9 Blazermate - (43/90)
The Maw > The Stage
Words: less than 750

Blazermate, Nadia, and Ace came in at the right time to save the day, their fellow members having issues with fighting some rice, tentacle... things... But their intervention saved the day momentarily, allowing those turned into food to turn back with the defeat of said tempura wizards. IT was then explained what this 'curse' was, apparently only meat products were cursed, which Blazermate promptly removed from her backpack, offering the non meat items to those who were hungry. Thankfully she didn't have to worry about this curse, but it defensively caused concern for everyone else here. Especially after what happened...

After a bit of healing and eating, the group moved on to their next destination, the headquarters of whoever was running this ship. Unlike the others, Blazermate didn't actually see this geisha coming in, so she didn't know this was the big bad. Although the performance she was about to see would solidify that fact soon enough.

The group found themselves in a, frankly, japanese theatre with sitting pillows and everything. Much like Sakura, Blazermate said. "Its like at home when you go to Ninja world or something." She did agree with the others pointing out the 'guests' in this area.... They really weren't healthy. Nor pretty. The one that Bowser seemed to know was the best looking of the bunch, at least he seemed to try to keep himself looking somewhat proper. Although while two of the others were really ugly, especially the slug lady, the guy with the marble women around him looked weird, but not so bad thanks to his company? Why did he have moving marble statues anyway? Well that was a thought that'd get resolved never as a kid that had guided Nadia became the 'attraction' of the show, the room going dark and a single beam of light shining down upon him as a tall kabuki woman came out from some nearby manikins of herself and did.... something... to the boy, turning him into some shriveled husk thing, much to the cheers of the fatties watching the show.

Having completed her show, she gestured in the direction of the group before moving on. "So... uh.... Guess we've gotta deal with her. Kinda a relief considering all the other stuff below if we can figure out what she does..." Blazermate said. Seeing as there were some rooms around, Blazermate suggested that they look in the one named "storeroom' to see if it had any weapons or anything. Although knowing this place, it probably was just full of corpses or something. Bowser and the troop had the same idea.

[Assistant]
Word Count: 459 (+1 exp)
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 30/80
Location: Edge of the Blue - The Maw
'Dinner and a show,' as Nadia had put it, was a horrible experience. The Seekers could do nothing but watch from their spots beside the audience as that kid was closed in on. The kid that could have been anyone of them, if they'd remained separated. That he wasn't didn't make the scene any easier to watch. The little voice in the back of the Ace Cadet's head that demanded optimism told him he might still be alive, but he couldn't make himself say it aloud, not when he was surrounded by tears and rage.

The Lady had the audacity to taunt them after the display, and if that didn't just rile the group up. She and her monsters slid back into the darkness, daring the Seekers to go after her. The Cadet wanted to do it, show that woman that they weren't afraid of her, but that would just be putting himself right where she wanted them, just as the others had said. She seemed to want to put on a show for the people here, but that wasn't about to happen.

The group went to talking about their next steps. None realistically thought that rushing after the Lady was a good idea. The doors leading off from the room they were in seemed like the best option at the moment, as most of the discussion boiled down to one simple plan: find something to help them take care of the Maw's mistress. Whether it was a secret weapon, or a secret weakness, they needed some kind of leg up.

The Cadet threw in his two cents, as between the four rooms he thought, "Mirage is right, if that's really her chambers then we might find something useful in there."

The idea that she might have booby trapped the room came up, but that didn't worry him. He still thought that the Lady was underestimating them, so she wouldn't have any reason to rig her own office on the off chance of intruders. He could be wrong, but he was willing to take the chance. "If she comes after us then we'll deal with her. We'll still be on her turf, but it'll be our terms."

Some turned their attention to the storeroom, which was fair. With their large group splitting up wouldn't normally be a problem - they'd done it often already and always came back together - but with the mastermind so close it felt all the more dangerous to be apart from one another... but that just meant they had to be fast.

"C'mon, we'll ransack the place quick and see if there's anything useful," he said, looking among the remaining group for any that would brave the "Lady's Chambers" as well.


[System]
Age: 30

Race: Caucasian

Sex: Female. Approximately 5' 11" tall, with blonde hair, steel grey eyes, and an athletic figure as per her military pedigree. Objectively quite stunning in her attractiveness.

Skills: ace pilot, energy weapons

Personality: highly intelligent but generally, socially clueless. She comes off as cold and unfriendly but truly, she doesn't have a natural propensity towards small talk and casual conversation. Smoker.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Enclave-issue plasma pistol, mismatched light armour pieces suitable for a travelling merc. Also carries a small knapsack full of items of sentimental value, such as a photograph of her and her twin brother, various medals and pins earned within the Enclave (including her dog tags), and a pocket watch featuring an engraving.

Occupation: Mercenary/security guard for hire.

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): Formerly Enclave, now unaffiliated.

Backstory:

Frieda was born seven minutes before her fraternal twin, Brian, but spent the majority of her life living in his false shadow. Their father was a high ranking official who lost his life during a mission while the twins were young. Subject to the same vigorous physical and weapons training through her life in the Enclave, no matter what she did, somehow her brother was favoured even when their skills and scores were on par. Where Frieda was more acerbic in personality, her brother's stoic demeanour tended to be extolled. Eventually, she was to be trained as a pilot, whereas her brother was destined for the front lines and recon. Her natural ability to focus on her task at hand while under pressure and make clear, logical decisions, saw her rise quickly through the ranks as one of their best pilots.

Despite the artificial rivalry their peers and superiors tried to place upon them, Frieda and Brian were inseparably close. They celebrated each other's achievements and differing designations. Brian was the only person in her life constantly validating her own skills, when so many others preferred to compare her to her brother. They held up and supported each other. When her brother left on a recon mission, never to return, his loss was a devastating blow. The Enclave considered his and his team's mission a failure, and did not send a rescue team.

Frieda wandered through the months that followed in a total daze, unable to find any peace in the thought that her brother was gone for good. He had been a grounding presence in her life, and without him, she found it impossible to find meaning in staying with the Enclave. In a daring move, she packed her most valuable things into a knapsack, stole a Vertibird, and decided to look for her brother, herself. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the trajectory of a rad storm, and found herself completely off course and crashing into the woods of what used to be New Hampshire.

Alive, but without any caps to her name nor desire to return to the Enclave, she wandered east, taking small mercenary type jobs from various settlements until she reached the ocean, and arbitrarily chose to wander south. She found herself wandering into Salem, hoping the sparse settlement could use some full-time muscle, until such time she was able to begin the search for her brother anew.

and:

Name: Celeste Brown

Age: 24

Race: Caucasian/mixed western European

Sex: Female. Barely 5'1", with shoulder length, very dark brown, curly hair, and bright blue eyes. She carries a stout figure with a noticeably voluptuous chest.

Skills: cooking, bartending, bartering

Personality: very charismatic, friendly, and genuinely sweet to everyone she encounters.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Wasteland settler garb including t-shirts, sweaters, skirts, dresses, slacks, and sneakers. Carries small sentimental trinkets, such as a pair of her mother's earrings and other inherited jewelry, and her father's first set of knives.

Occupation:  Barkeep/innkeep

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None

Backstory:

Celeste has a very plain and lackluster backstory. Originally from a settlement on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, she was born to two, loving, hard working parents. Her mother operated a successful trading business, having set up at the border, and her father was a talented baker and chef. She learned the best of both occupations from a young age; the art of the deal from her mom, and how to create the flakiest pastry and well-balanced soups from her dad. Through her late teens, Celeste started to feel the wanderlust. While a steady stream of folks came through Niagara Falls between the two pre-war countries, so did their stories. Celeste started to dream of the world beyond the river and the escarpment, but for many years, seeing it for herself remained a dream. A caravan travelling from Burlington near Ronto, en route to the eastern seaboard, thrilled Celeste with their talk of the bright and beautiful Diamond City, that she insisted she go with them. She chipped in her own caps for the protected passage, said a bittersweet goodbye to her parents, and was on their way.

The travel would prove to be very harsh on sweet, tender Celeste. Slogging through the terrain, surrounded by hostiles at every turn, and fearing for her life, all had begun to tarnish her shiny impression of the world outside her childhood home. Chronic optimism kept her going, but a very small part of her began to consider that she had made a huge mistake.

Celeste would never make it to Diamond City. The caravan made a stop in Salem in an attempt to top up on purified water, and Celeste would fall in love with the town. The setting, the buildings, everything felt so beautiful and comfortable to her. She had a pocket full of caps and stars in her eyes. After a convincing conversation with the caravan, who assured her that Salem could become part of their regular route, she decided to settle back down and merely travel through the wasteland as she always had: by the stories and tales brought in by others.

[User]
Rick Noel - Clinic

Rick looked at the doctor and nodded, "Yes, of course she remains in charge. We wouldn't be where we currently are withuot her. The smartest decision the directorate could've made was select her for the possition, especially after Father screwed...I'm sorry, I am out of line and should not have said so." Rick lowered his head, speaking ill of the directorate and its leaders by someone of his level was unheard of, at least until he had a doctorate and had proven himself.

He cleared his throat, "But regardless, yes construction is smoothly progressing. The entrance and its security have been completed. No unwanted pest will be able to enter the vault, perhaps we can do better this time...Luckily we have plenty of generation 1 and 2 synths to do some of the hard labor, after all, many within our ranks have never done any sort of physical labor."

He looked at his gun and the though of the man he had killed returned. Luckily the supplement was working and he no longer felt deathly ill, though he felt the death of the man would linger on in his mind. He was lost in thought and had not been able to hear what the doctor was saying to him.

"I'm sorry doctor I tuned out for a bit... a lot on my mind. What's troubling I don't remember reading any sort of reports of a hooded group of surface dwellers living near these area. Prior to coming I was at Dunwich Borers, and they were doing the most weird thing. They were chanting or something before an obelisk or idol. It seemed they were worshiping it. They spoke a language I could not understand."

He paused for a bit to try and recollect the ones he and Mary had fought. "i stumbled across a young woman named Mary, and as soon as I wonder two of them in their hoods attacked us. They shouted something "PH´NGLUI SOTH!" At first I thought it might be latin, but i was never good in language class, and tuned out most of the dead languages they made us learn. Mary said it wasn't, possibly a made up language. It's all odd, to me it makes no sense."

"In all honesty it reminded me of something out of those old fiction books located in the library. You know the ones that had cults and worshiping of other worldly beings... I think some surface dweller read a book and took it to be true rather than fiction... I think next time I return to the vault I'll peruse the digital library where all those books are located."

[Assistant]
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner

Adam stood there, waiting to see if he could enter properly until Ace spoke,"Yeah, we are open… Betty help the gentleman out. I need some air." He said, heading to a hatch. "Whatever, leaving me alone…again.", the girl, Betty, said moodily. Ace didn't seem to be in the mood for taking lip, "That's what I hired you for. Find out if the toaster would like anything, I'm sure there's a can of motor oil for it somewhere." he said, descending down the ladder. Betty turned to Adam as she smacked so gum, "Whatcha having old man?". Adam seemed confused before he remembered why he'd came here. "Right. Coffee, black if it ain't too much trouble, ma'am. Maybe a side of Brahmin steak too". Adam walked over to an old classic red swivel seat at the faded countertop and put his head down on the counter, arm over his neck trying to fight off a headache and tiredness. When he looked up again, he looked over to Betty and asked, "So whats with the head chef there and that fuss? And what's he mean 'android'? That some kind of robot?", he hiked a thumb to the guy nearby, "He don't look like no RobCo product I've ever seen."


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Class: Sanctioned Psyker

Psyker Power
Divination & Telekinesis are her main fields of psychic talent, but she also possesses two other abilities such as Smite and Storm of Lightning, as well as a rudimentary form of mental communication. Does not possess any noteworthy healing abilities, and she is just as likely to send someone to the warp as she is to heal a minor scratch.

Appearance:
5.8ft tall, pale skin and snow white hair. Sturdy and heavy frame, but still retains her feminine figure despite adhering to a strict physical training regime.

The base of her outfit consist of a simple yet elastic skin tight jumpsuit in dark brown color that is capable of withstanding the vacuum of space as well as provide a decent protection against the elements, though offers little protection versus physical threats. Overlayed on top is a series of armaplas plates that form a chestguard, cuisses, knee-high boots, shoulderpads and gloves stretching back and up to her elbows where they form into a sharp point. They offer good locational protection, especially from the front, but leave her jumpsuit exposed in other places, particularly from her lower back and down to the back of her knees where her boots cover both sides of her ankles. The plates are polished to a light gray color, and almost look like silver. The surface is covered with a series of intricate design and artwork in typical imperial fashion, featuring numerous flutes and ridges across the plates, as well as a couple skull imprints. Above her armor she wears a satin blue silk cloak that hangs down from the back of her left shoulder, as well as a silk loincloth hanging from the front of her belt of similar color. Thrown sideways around her torso is a series of books and scrolls attached by chain.

Running up along the spine of her chestguard is a refractor field generator built into the plate itself, taking form of a small generator emitting a series of horizontal, blue lights up along the back of the chestplate, and shaped much like a human skeletal spine. When activated, a faint, blue and almost invisible barrier appears around her figure.

Her helmet is made out of the same material as that of her armor, and it takes the form of a gothic plated helmet, with a narrow but wide blue glass visor and a longer neck guard extending out behind her helmet. Two plastic tubes are attached to a rebreather device at the bottom mouth piece of her helmet, that stretch out on each side of her neck and down into a small, highly pressurized air tank built into the back of her chestguard.

Her boots are magnetic, and her entire suit when worn enables her to survive in space, and also provides immunity to most chemical and biological attacks. She carries enough oxygen to last for almost an hour.

Equipment:

Main Weapon: Her primary weapon is a two handed power-weapon in the form of an oversized saber with a sleek blade and an extended handle which doubles as a psyker staff, and adorned with sigils, trinkets, technological gadgets and inscriptions. She often uses her weapon in conjunction with her telekinetic powers to amplify its destructive potential.

"Scylla" [Custom-Built Handgun], .50 caliber, 7 round clip size x 3 carried.

Ceremonial Dagger. In essence, just a normal albeit flashy dagger with an adorned handle. Typically only carried for show, but is sharp enough to slice through unprotected skin with ease, and small enough to be concealed without much problem.

Refractor Field. Description under Appearance.

Servo-Skull: Mostly used to store events, data, recordings and scrolls.

Savior – Saved an influential nobleman by foreseeing his assassination, tossing him out of the way of the sniper's bullet with her telekinetic powers and into a big wedding cake instead.

Guide – Saved a band of arbiters from the underworld of a hive world during an uprising by using her powers of divination to avoid the roaming mobs and gangs and reached safety without incident. Not a single shot was fired during their escape.

Hates Surprises – Accidentally electrocuted and sent three of the arbiters she had saved above to the infirmary when they tried to surprise her with a party later. Being so used to foresee danger before it happens, she is prone to freaking out over minor surprises that eludes her farsight.

Fireteam – During an Ork incursion, she helped a fireteam of six guardsmen hold off a much larger band of orks after their sergeant was injured through using her powers of divination to guide their fire, turning what had been originally green recruits into seemingly crack shots. Any Ork that left its cover was immediately put down from long range, and when they mounted a frenzied charge together, they didn't make it more than halfway across the field to the trenches before they were wiped out by precision fire.

Warpstorm over Mordran V - Adrianne was assigned to aid the planetary imperial garrison with culling a lesser greenskin uprising, assisting local Imperial Guard and Sisters of Battle forces with the purging when a warpstorm suddenly appeared over the otherwise peaceful colony world of Mordran V. Trapped on the planet, Adrianne found herself fighting for survival alongside her imperial guard as Chaos Ships appeared in orbit, and unleashed a ferocious invasion of the planet! Though the warpstorm only lasted for two weeks, by the time it had lifted, Mordran V had been transformed from a lush, promising garden world into a lifeless, daemon-infested hellscape, with most of its original population killed except for a few imperial strongholds that managed to weather the storm. Her experience from Mordran V would change Adrianne for ever. What had been a cautious girl that had stepped onto the planet would instead emerge a seemingly reckless with little to no restraint on her powers!

[User]
"Psyker Valenthin will be the rearguard."

"But,-" Adrianne was about to object, until she cast a look out across the long hallway with the strange statues. From where she stood, they looked not much different from any other ornamental set of statues. Yet she noticed that whatever they were, they really seemed to startle the inquisitor a lot.

The statues radiated the same foul if ever so slightly arousing aura of corruption as that of the rest of the building, but it was hard to say if there was something magical about the statues themselves, or if they were just inanimate objects tainted by the general corruption of the place.

"Very well." Adrianne answered, seemingly having changed her mind as she nodded to Zhevon, agreeing to stand behind.

As Zhevon began walking through the hallway, ever so carefully, Adrianne would stand back at the entrance and simply watch as her Inquisitor ventured down the hallway as though it was a minefield!

But it was going slow, and Adrianne dreaded how long the whole thing might take if every single party member would have to repeat the same process. Zhevon hadn't even gotten a third of the way. Her servo-skull, M4R1-A was hovering high in the hallway, getting multiple video shots of a rather startled Inquisitor as he carefully walked down the hall.

"This is going to take forever... "

Adrianne could feel herself becoming impatient, and would eventually turn to look over at Ben and Stukov standing with her at the doorway. Moving a finger up to her helmet, she would turn off her own comm before looking at the two men.

"Wouldn't it be fun to NOT have to repeat the Inquisitor's 'walk of doom' through the hall?" Adrianne would ask the two men in a suggestive manner, taking a quick look over to Zhevon to make sure that the Inquisitor was not listening, before turning her head back to look at Stukov and Ben expectantly. If it had not been for her skeletal helmet, they could have seen the biggest smirk ever that was currently plastered all over her face!

[Assistant]
Stukov looked at the hallway of statues, his gut telling him that they were trouble, and not in a easily handled manner. He had a feeling from the very serious warning and plan that the Inquisitor was giving them that this hallway was tainted beyond mere appearances as of this moment. Smiles wasn't pleased with being rearguard, her attempt to interject was clearly that. The glowing pink eyes from the hostile statues were something strange, intentionally alluring as well from what he could tell. Emperor protect them indeed. As the Inquisitor finished his brief on the matter, but before he began his journey, Stukov began whispering under his breath, barely audible as a prayer that he had learned from a priest aboard his first ship before it was nearly lost to the warp. It wasn't anything fancy or elegant like some favored, but it fit well enough. Especially considering what he was about to march through, but it was all history for him in the grand scheme of things. One of a handful of remnants of a near damned ship many years ago.

"Though I travel into the eternal darkness of the Void, I shall fear not, for my Emperor is my Light.
Though I tread amongst the Heathen and the Xenos, I shall concern myself not, for the Emperor is my Guide.
Though I march into the fields of battle, I shall worry not, for the Emperor is my Protector.
Though I journey from this world to the next I shall falter not, for the Emperor is my God."

By the time Stukov had finished his prayer and performed the sign of the Aquila, it was almost time for the next person to head into the statue tunnel. If it wasn't for Smiles speaking up, he was about to enter the tunnel itself and brace himself for the passageway he was about to subject himself to. When she questioned if anyone else did not want to go through the Tunnel of Doom, the Armsman recognized her suggestive tone and immediately responded, not sure whether to seriously think that she intended to use warp trickery in such a tainted place or not. He glanced at Watchman as well, who he seriously doubted would even consider such things which meant it was down to him to keep an eye on Smiles, just in case. So that meant at least trying to talk reason into the woman before she dragged him off onto another gallivanting, sickening adventure through the warp again. He wanted to minimize his exposure to such things, especially in a nexus of corruption like this. "Smiles, I don't think this place is the best time to be stepping through the Warp like we did to get here. That might get some rather unpleasant attention or set off those statues. Or worse, to be frank."


[System]
Age: 22
Pronouns: She/Her
Profession: Personal Fitness Trainer, aspiring boxer
Personality: Overall she's a very friendly person and cares deeply for others, whether they've been in her life for over a decade or over a month. Many times this has led her to getting betrayed by those people, but she tends to never learn her lesson. Most people she meets have no idea she has faced any hardship in her life, as she isn't one to use that as a crutch. She is an extremely motivated and determined person, but when she fails in anything, big or small, she can become incredibly hard on herself. She tends to bottle her emotions to keep those around her happy and at ease, even if it hurts her in the end.
How long have you lived in Ashton?: 18 years
What would most people know about you?: She's clearly athletic upon first glance and tends to always have a smile. If she has an opinion she will most likely share it.
Additional info you want to share: She has asthma, which is a big hurdle in her attempts at becoming a successful boxer.
Bio: Helena lived with both of her parents in the first few years of her life. At around the age of four, her parents split. Her mother abandoned her and her father was so heartbroken he went to the bottle. They moved to Ashton, hundreds of miles away from her family and friends. He became physically and mentally abusive to her (never sexually). Eventually at the age of 15 she was able to move in with her friend, Brittany's, family, also located in Ashton. She doesn't talk much about her past as she doesn't want others to feel bad for her but again, she does bottle those feelings and they have the potential to explode one day.

[User]
Winter in Ashton can be truly and absolutely beautiful. With just the right amount of snowfall it can look and feel like a winter wonderland you would normally only find in a cheesy lifetime movie. In some ways it's as pleasant and pure as that, but sometimes looks can be deceiving. Beyond every wholesome citizen and act of kindness there is a conman waiting for their chance to strike. For a place as beautiful as Ashton still has its shadows...and those shadows can sometimes bring out the worst in people.

Like I said, winter in Ashton can be truly beautiful. However, it can be equally as lonely. Some thrive here. Others simply struggle to make ends meet. For every person lucky or dedicated enough to make their place the right way...there are those that go around the system and break the rules to get what they want. Regardless of what side of the law you are on, or the kind of life you lead...this is your home. Who are you going to be? How will your actions impact Asthon and its people? What's your story? There's only one way to find out.

Be who you want to be. Live your life the way you want to live it. Make your mark on the history of Ashton.

[Assistant] The story begins at 4:00pm on the first day of December. Holiday decorations are all around, and Christmas songs dominate the local radio stations. All seemed well this morning. However, reports are coming out that the body of Ashton's recently retired sheriff, Nick Dalton, has been found near Azure Lake. No more information has been released on the matter, but much of the town is in as state of shock. Sheriff Dalton was considered to be a hero by many...but at the very least he has always been seen as a good man by most.

[User]
Nyx let the radio chatter as she continued to unpack. She had lived in Ashton for two weeks, long enough for most people to have set up their entire apartment and even begin decorating. Nyx was not like those people. Nyx had her desk setup, complete with electric blanket, space heater, and water heater. Her desktop wasn't top of the line, but it did well enough. She didn't need it to do anything super exciting, or run complex programs or video games. She was just extremely proficient with excel.

Her desk was the only thing set up. She had her boxes of kitchen goods half opened, enough for her to find bowls for soup and cereal. She still hadn't found any of her silverware, and a plastic spoon sat next to her sink. Nyx didn't want to ruin the environment, all those turtles and jellyfish. She thought it was about the turtles and jellyfish, though she wasn't sure.

The radio finished another round of "White Christmas" updating everyone on the body that had been found by the lake.

"The entire reason I moved here was that it was supposed to be some nice town." Nyx sighed.

[Assistant]
Pop pop pop pop!

Helena's fists hit the heavy bag in a quick four-punch combo. She slipped to the side and took a step back from the heavy bag, bouncing on her toes and waiting for her imaginary opponent to mess up. The opponent she pictured in her head threw a cross, which she easily slipped, then followed with a quick left hook. She ducked under it and moved forward into range and unleashed another combo. She hit the bag with a quick left hook to the body, to the head, then popped a cross to give her some cover while she slipped back out of her opponent's range. Helena breathed through her nose and let out a soft exhale through her mouth as she waited for her imaginary opponent's next move. She controlled her breathing, staying calm and collected as her heartbeat grew faster with every movement. Before she knew it her timer was beeping and the final round was over. She dropped her hands and pulled off her training gloves. They weighed 16 ounces and were her favorite gloves. She had several different pairs of gloves for different types of training, but her 16 ounce gloves were always her favorite. Maybe it was because they were the heaviest she wore, maybe it was because they provided the most cushioning for her hands, or maybe it was because they had lasted her so long. Either way, she was very partial to this specific pair of gloves.

With her workout over, Helena made her way to the lockers and showered. Fortunately, her boxing gym offered showers, something she was incredibly grateful for. She finished, got dressed, and quickly put her damp hair up into a loose ponytail. On the way out, she saw her coach who was training another young prospect. "How'd you do, Champ?" he asked her, holding out his fist.

She gave him a fist bump and replied with a large grin, "Not bad, but always room for improvement!"

"That's what I like to hear!" he said with a chuckle, "Go home and get some rest kid."

"Sounds good, Coach!" With that, she exited the gym. The air was like ice. She had a love-hate relationship with the cold weather. On one hand, the city always looked gorgeous with the blankets of snow covering everything in sight. On the other hand, she tended to experience more asthma in the cold and that hindered her ability to train outside of the boxing gym. She already had to be cautious when training, the cold just made it harder. At times, even sitting down in the cold could trigger some of her symptoms.

Helena quickly made her way to her car and hopped in. Somehow it was much colder in there than it was outside. She cursed under her breath and started it up as quickly as possible, hoping the heater would warm up within the next few seconds. The young woman pulled out of her spot and made her way home. For the past year, she lived with her friend Brittany on the other side of town. They lived together since they were 15 and were still good friends, so naturally they didn't mind renting a two-bedroom apartment together once they were financially stable enough to do so. They were lucky to get a place a few miles away from Brittany's family's home. They were just far enough to be independent, but close enough to go to family dinners and events every couple of weeks.

Before getting home, Helena made a detour to the local cafe. They had great hot drinks, which were especially welcomed in the winter. She parked as close to the entrance as possible and made her way inside. Her plans were to get herself something small and to bring home something for her roommate.

[User]
Location: Brewster's Coffee & Treats

As you enter the establishment you are greeted by an obviously disheveled waitress that you recognize. She is a sweetheart of a young woman named Dawn, and despite having a history of messing up orders she is always polite and helpful. Her hair is messier than usual, and despite the cafe being rather slow at the moment she seems anxious and overwhelmed.

"Welcome back ma'am. What can I get you? Start you off with a coffee....or a tea?"

[Assistant]
"Hey Dawn!" Helena greeted, happy to see the young waitress. However, upon seeing Dawn's out of sorts look, Helena grew concerned. Even during the cafe's rushes, the waitress never seemed too overwhelmed. Why was today so different?

"Is everything okay?" Helena asked, though it was obvious something was wrong. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and slipped it out to take a peek. She didn't like being on her phone when talking to others, but considering this was her business and personal phone she always had to at least check.

The notification hit her like a metal bat. Ashton's Retired Sheriff Nick Dalton, Dead, Body Recovered Near Azure Lake. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and she even felt her eyes become a bit watery. Although she wasn't close to the man, she had seen him around town here and there. His kindness was strong in and out of uniform. He was the town's role model and hero. How could he be dead? She didn't bother reading the article, at least not yet. Questions zoomed through her head, but she shoved them to the side.

Helena gulped, pulled herself together, then returned her attention to Dawn. "Everything okay?" she repeated, clearing her throat and allowing a faint smile to appear on her lips.


[System]
Wrestling Name: Seth Ryder
Talent: SHSL Swagger"Professional Wrestler" is generally not the same thing as a "Wrestler", as one is real and one is fake. The occupation titles are unfortunately used interchangeably, so if he were the SHSL "Professional Wrestler", it would imply he was a legitimate wrestler. On the other hand, SHSL Actor, SHSL Charisma, SHSL Grandstander, and SHSL Hype Man all have unfitting connotations, so I went with Swagger.Gender: ♂
Appearance:
Backstory: In his youth, he was an avid fan of professional wrestling. A bit of a mischievous child, he would often mess with fights, at first in minor ways. Since he would regularly attend events, (thanks to his parents both being professional wrestlers) this continued for quite a bit and slowly escalated. By the time he started to cause significant interference with matches, "the Ryder kid" had already gained a reputation for the excitement he induced. Every time he was involved, the matches were guaranteed some sort of subtly provided twist. Since these fights, including their outcomes, are choreographed, it was decided it would be easier to get him in on it rather than deal with a backlash that might occur from banning him. He was still too young to be allowed to wrestle of course, but he was given a wrestling persona, "Seth Ryder", which allowed greater freedom to directly interfere with fights. (For example, from the stage or out of the ring instead of from the stands) He had to abide by the guidelines he was given, but he even pushed the boundaries on that. By the time he was old enough to become a pro wrestler, his character's debut match was already one of the most hyped of the year. While he hasn't been a professional wrestler for long, writers were happy to indulge in his reputation, giving him an undefeated record.
Other information:
- Born and raised in New York.
- Very tall
- He inherited his father's signature "WOO WOO WOO!" cheers.
- Despite gaining a reputation before becoming a wrestler, he did get proper training and developed the body for the job.
- His wrestling trunks have a qr code over the crotch. The QR Code is for his twitter. Has millions of followers.
- Has a wikipedia page (in-universe) where anyone could look up all of the above.

Name: Flint Asidea
Talent: SHSL Recollector
Gender: ♂
Appearance:
Backstory: Flint has been living as a delinquent his entire life, born into poverty and addiction. In particular, he is addicted to a drug known as "seeds of eden", a psychoactive drug that induces a feeling of bliss and specific hallucinations. These drugs are special in that they cause the image of "god", beautiful monstrosities, to appear to those affected. Depending on the mix, the god appears differently, but the same mix yields the same visage, even through uses by different people. For reasons not hard to imagine, peddlers of the drug often thinly veil their trade as a religion, each god promising a different method to get their followers to "that special place", as "interpreted" by that god's "prophet".

The religion he was born into was one Flint is not fond of. Worshipping a "wrathful god", the rites carried out by its prophet were violent, and it was in this manner that both of his parents died.

His current religion by contrast, worships a "god of love". Its prophet, his "father" in a financial and religious sense, instead teaching his clients the importance of "saving" others, by "purifying" the "evils" from their household and helping them see "that special place". Only in saving others from the evils of their household and finding a partner who they can show that special place to can they achieve "salvation".

Simply put, Flint has been living the life of a thief since birth. He's committed countless petty crimes, never paid much attention during the brief time he was in school and has vivid nightmares whenever he suffers from withdrawal. His "father" has sent Flint to the academy "to further his ability to purify the evils of man" and avoid the legal attention he was threatened with.

Any other information you'd like to share:
- Flint was sent off with a supply of the drug to use as he saw fit.
- Flint possesses eidetic memory and memorization capabilities consistent with hyperthymesia
- Flint's talent was first discovered by Hope's Peak faculty when his "father" managed to sell some of his drawings online for a high price, which Flint often makes in his spare time using his memories, real or hallucinatory.
- Picked up random Latin phrases from his "father". Uses them more often than he should.

[User]
Something was wrong. This wasn't the cushioned sofa Alice was so used to. She was laying on her back in a… cave? No, Alice could see the sun through her closed eyes. But the material her back felt like she was lying on a slab of stone. Which meant that Alice was not where she last went to sleep. Unless there was a stonehenge recreation on the floor next to her favourite couch, Alice couldn't piece together how she ended up on a slab on stone. Which meant that someone had moved her. Something was definitely wrong. What happened? Did Alice sleepwalk into a local stone quarry. Or…

Alice would confront those issues as they came. Time to get up. Deal with one issue at a time. Alice had to figure out where she was. Alice placed both of her palms on opposite sides of her and pushed herself to her feet in a single motion. Having done this, she also opened her eyes and saw- a theatre? Like one of those things one would see in a history textbook about Greece? How far did Alice go? Just what was happening. Why did Alice feel like she was forgetting something?

She looked around her surroundings, taking everything in. She saw the seating of the theatre, and she saw No one. Because they were either hiding or already looking at Alice.  One problem at a time. Alice could see behind the Amphitheatre seating some cabins in the distance, and behind those a dock and lake. She could also see several individuals out in the open. She wondered if they knew anything about why Alice had woken up here, although it was entirely possible that other people were in the same situation she was. Generally, when Alice didn't know what was going on, everyone else didn't either. She could also see a fence and gate on the other side of the seating, and finally deduced that they were in a campgrounds of some sort. Alice was satisfied that she had figured out everything that she could from her position on the stage. Except that there may or may not have been a person watching her? The narrator was not sure, and thus Alice was unable to figure this out. Probably?

She slowly walked to the edge of the stage, stretching her arms with resounding cracks, and jumped off of it. The fall wasn't that steep, but her landing was still impressively resolutely. She hardly missed a beat as she sauntered towards the  Gate. Because she felt a sudden and unexplainable urge to remove herself from this situation.  She moved elegantly, and silently, and idly ran her hands down her waist to her skirts before returning them to her side. She had nothing on her, and that was to be expected. A mechanic doesn't sleep with their wrench.

[Assistant]
How things unfolded after Neola spoke surprised her. The boy continued to do exactly what she told him not to do. But the little girl was not only entirely ignoring Neola, but conversing with the boy like nothing had happened. The entire reason why Neola chose to insert herself here was because she heard the adorable little girl scream. Neola didn't understand why she didn't get a thank you for standing up to the boy. When the other girl got up, she didn't seemed to be alarmed by the man's presence. Neola could only sigh. Perhaps she was being weird again. Maybe Byakuya was not the best choice for this situation. It wasn't too late to change into someone else, but Neola didn't like changing her persona so frequently. Instead, she decided to think about what Byakuya might do in this situation. Interrogation of everyone around him was most likely, but Neola didn't feel like doing that right now. Maybe Byakuya would simply get fed up and walk in the opposite direction. With any luck, they would forget about her and then she could introduce herself as someone else. Only, her plan was thwarted by the arrival of another boy. Or was that a man?

 "Hmmm..." The scruffy boy had already managed to close the distance between him and Neola "Well, If Byakuya was a desirable woman instead of some guy who inherited his daddy's fortune, I suppose he'd look something like you." He smirked. "But I'm going to wager that you're actually Neola Akiyama, the ultimate celebrity impersonator."

 Neola fret her brow. "You're rather observant for a commoner. You shouldn't speak so casually with me however."

"I'm not sure if you do requests." His smile was growing by the second. "But I'd be a lot happier if you were Sayaka. I'm not really in the mood for femogami right now."

"It is extreamly rude, even for a neanderthal such as yourself, to tell a woman how she should look or act."

"Yea yea... Please?"

"Hmph." At the very least, it was an excuse to transform into someone more appealing to the young girl. Neola twirled in front of him, and when she stopped she was a different person. "Like this?"

"Oh um." He placed a hand on the back of his head. "That's actually pretty impressive. "

"Even if your 'assets' are a bit bigger."

"Eh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That's what you were thinking right? I'm a mind reader, you know?"

He raised his other eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

 Neola giggled "I'm just kidding, I just have very good intuition." Yes, Sayaka's character was one that bounced between playful teasing and vulnerable. Neola felt she had "attacked" the boy a bit too hard, and now it was time to let him get some ground back. "But really, I do tend to bind my chest when I'm pretending to be smaller people. But there's only so much I can do with this quick change kit. I hope I still met your expectations."

 "Yea, I think girls come in all kinds of great shapes. Though yours is definitely one of my favorites." He gave Neola one more look before turning to the the smaller girl. "Kara O'Hara right? The ultimate desert chef!" He patted her head. Neola was a bit envious of this new boy, but did her best to hide it. "I hope we can make something delicious later. So long as it's not a souffle, those things are disgusting! But maybe if you made it, I'd like it." He turned to face the second girl, the one that just woke up. "Lilly Hart, the ultimate hacker right?" the scruffy boy extended his hand. "No need to ask for a hand, heh. A lot of people find speaking to me difficult." Then he turned to look at the first boy. "Okay, who the hell are you?" Weird, the scruffy boy seemed to know everyone's name and talent except for that guys. Why was that?