[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Race: Wood Elf

Sitting at a comfortable 5' 10" Lanithil is deceptively thin. His race is revealed in his pointed ears and pure pale skin while his woodland heritage is given away by his piercing leaf green eyes and long flowing oak brown hair. Casually he wears a deep green tunic with dark brown pants. In battle, he dawns leather armor with distinctive leaf patterns and the blue cloak of the inquisition. He also paints his face with markings long believed to help conceal their wearer.

Personality:
Though he moves and speaks with the grace of most elf kind, you will soon find the soft smile of Lanithil is a mischievous one. A jokester at heart, Lanithil will often say or do things to cheer up the bleak moods of his comrades, even if it causes him some trouble. Even to an elf like him Lanithil sees life as too short to be taken serious all the time. One must learn to laugh and enjoy life for it to be worth it. And yet, you will not find such foolishness with Lanithil on the field of battle. Once his bow is drawn, the ranger takes hold. He will follow orders without question, move with silence and haste, and kill without hesitation.

History:
The son of two woodland rangers, Lanithil Valkas was destined to take up the bow for his people. From an early age he was trained in a number of skills from guerilla warfare to wilderness survival. He had daily weapon practice with bows and short swords becoming deadly proficient in both. While many of his kind we're trained in the same arts, Lanithil was exceptionally gifted, but to his superiors, this was not always a good thing.

While Lanithil took his training seriously, he often found entertainment in using them for pranks and other practical jokes. One of his favorites was discreetly suspending a bucket of water from a rope, hiding nearby with his bow, shooting the rope once someone walked underneath, and stealthily leaving the area while a fuming elf looked for him. At least that was the plan. A few times he chose the wrong target for his pranks or made a mistake in his getaway that ended in his apprehension.

By the time he graced one hundred and entered adulthood, Lanithil had grown out of his prankster ways but retained the knowledge of his mistakes. With this plus a century of training under his belt, it was no question if he was ready for the rangers. He spent the next 25 years serving faithfully until one day mysterious tracks were discovered just outside Ilanas. After several days following the trail, Lanithil and his squad came upon a group of skinnui blight.

Though it was an easy fight, their very presence in the elves forest disturbed Lanithil. Having read the stories of what these creatures had done before, Lanithil decided to leave the rangers and join the Inquisition so that he could better protect his homeland. Having now spent 3 years with the Inquisition, Lanithil has learned a great deal about this enemy and is ready to face them.

Equipment:
Elven longbow - Crafted from the wood of the ancient trees in Ilanas and made custom to fit the needs of its user. Such a weapon is only made for the rangers of Ilandell, and the Inquisitors upon request.

Elven short swords - Dual curved blades made by the finest Smith's in Ilandell. Their sharpness and outstanding durability are only matched by the craftsmanship of the dwarves.

Hard leather armor - Standard for all rangers. Provides some protection without cost of mobility.

Blue cloak - While Lanithil preferred the dark green cloak of his people, he finds the blue of the inquisition to work well when hiding under the glow of night.

Magic: N/A

Extra:
Deep in the great forest of Ilanas lies the tree city of Ilandell, home of the wood elves. Centuries ago, for one of non-elven decent to even enter the sacred woods bore the penalty of death. While their woodland brothers were only permitted to come and go under cover of night as to avoid detection. Such strict ruling kept their people and secrets safe from the greed and blood lust of the other races for a time, but the same reclusive nature nearly lead their demise.

Trusting themselves alone and holding little care for anything outside their borders, the wood elves refused to join the inquisition when it formed as they had not yet been hit by the blight. They had repelled countless attacks from other nations before, why would this foe be any different? If only they had listened.

There are many accounts of how the blight made their attack on Ilanas. Some say they crept unnoticed in the night and struck in surprise, while others claim it was a large force that mercilessly assaulted the forest. Either way, the outcome was the same; for the first time in history, the city of Ilandell had been taken.

Those that remained quickly saw the error in their ways and pledged allegiance to the inquisition. With the full support of the other races, the wood elves led a three day campaign to reclaim their homeland. Once they had succeeded, the wood elves continued aiding the inquisition until the land was finally cleansed of the blight. To show their gratitude towards the other races, the wood elves opened the forest and city to all and have since remained loyal to both the inquisition and the council.

[User]
The battle seemed to have stretched so long for the Tiefling. Though in reality, it was shorter than she had perceived. "Excitement can do that to a person," she found herself thinking. The prior show of light and magic was a sight to be seen, for sure. But she would rather not see them again though she knew that it will never be fulfilled. She was definitely impressed by the courage, or perhaps idiocy, of the one called Gilead despite being nothing more but a mere small human; the group of men and women that trailed behind the dark skinned man; the giants that called each other brothers though halves of their races are the only ones truly joining them; and the rest of their magic users who was equally impressive in their own rights.

With deep breaths, she drops the spear that she dislodged earlier and joins the others to listen in on their comments about the creature which was apparently supposed to be human. She internally grimaced as she absorbed the information that the others were speaking of and found herself looking towards the dead city before them. She was not anxious, but she continued to patiently wait for those with better heads to finally make a choice.

[Assistant]
Kharne growled low in his chest when the giant someone got flexible enough to kick his chest which had been pressed to its back. Still he and Genthok were knocked away but oddly enough their bodies weren't damaged to much. At most a bruising. He had been to focused on lifting and holding the giant to notice what the others were doing. Shortly after getting kicked Gil struck the final blow, shoving a spear through the partially ruined cuirass of the giants armor.

When the giant finally fell though that voice from earlier showed up, making the bestial man bare his fangs at the air. As it went away, with a sound like marching, Kharne turned his attention to the others. They were examining the giant, who was apparently a human, or taking guesses at what the ethereal entity was. It said its name was the prayers on the walls and the fields. Looking around all he could see was death and carnage. He'd say war but there was only the bodies of the people who had lived in the city.

" Death...or carnage? Possibly murder?" He sound aloud to the people making speculations about the entity. Looking to Lilianna after her examination of the corpse. "I could use some healing. I can feel some of the muscles in my arms and back are torn." He stated before crimson eyes turned towards Gil. His eyebrow cocked up, he wasn't a glory seeker so he wasn't particularly concerned on who killed the thing so long as it was killed and stayed dead. He gave the smaller man a brief nod before returning his attention to Lilianna as if he were waiting for her to say or do something. It was an oddly...animalistic trait to just sit there and wait. The only movement the rising and falling of his chest.


[System]
Age: 24
Height: 6'-0"
Weight: 170lbs
Allegiance: Aspirian Royalty
Distinguishing Traits: Wherever the party is, Cas is bound to be there also. He's a free spirit with a tendency to act without thinking through the consequences, although due to his cushioned upbringing and high status, he rarely has to face them. Despite his wild lifestyle, however, he has a soft side and has been known for taking in stray and injured animals he finds in the streets of the capital city.

Short Bio: As the son of the reigning king, Atlas Maydestone, Caspian has lived the entirety of his life in the capital of Aspiria. He was born with a silver spoon in hand, enjoying the finest luxuries the country had to offer even when he was as young as five years old. This experience shaped him as a person. He grew up seeing the glass half-full and believing Aspiria was every bit as perfect and amazing as his father wanted him to think it was.

As a child, he spent most of his education being groomed to take over as the next king but never really took his future duties seriously. In his mind, it was so far off, there was no reason to worry about it. That is, until his father's health took a sudden decline when he turned eighteen. Suddenly slapped in the face by the reality that he was actually going to be the next leader of an entire country, he began to pay more attention to his teachers and did his best to understand all the different jobs he would have when his father died. However, the more he studied, the more he realized how unqualified he was for such an important role.

To deal with his rising sense of insecurity, Cas delved back into any and every social event he could find around the capital city. Partying and drinking with friends took the edge off his fears and helped him to forget about the impending future of his kingship. Deep down, he knew his coping strategy wouldn't change anything, but for now, it was good enough to keep him from getting absorbed in the weight of it all. He would just continue to put it off until he had to face it, the same way he handled the Scourge.

The rebellion (better known as the Scourge by everyone who lived in the capital) was the other big, glaring problem he tried not to think about. To make the enemies seem less imposing, he and his friends would make crude jokes about them and discuss all the creative ways the king could punish them for treason when they were eventually defeated by the state, but secretly, he was always on the lookout for anyone who seemed suspicious. As the crown prince of Aspiria, he'd heard the threats the rebels spat about himself and his family, and he was concerned about what could happen if they ever managed to get inside the stronghold walls.

He just hoped the military was strong enough that he would never have to find out.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
The instant the first gunshot had been fired, every soldier in the building had changed course to sprint upstairs. Meanwhile, Jacob clenched his jaw as he watched his target's hand fly to his leg where the bullet had made contact. It was satisfying, in a way, to hurt the man who had tortured Iris, but it still didn't make up for everything he'd done to her. One wound wasn't vengeance for a life lost. His eyes flicked to her unmoving, bloodstained body on the floor just as the security team's drone hovered into the line of sight. He didn't need to see his king to know what the scene in this room was going to do to him. That was a situation for the men in the palace to deal with.

And they did. When Iris came into view on Caspian's screen, he had jumped up from his seat with a shouted 'no,' only to be restrained by the shoulder immediately by the nearest guard. All the color drained from his face, and his eyes were as round as disks as he stared at her crumpled form on the screen, the knife protruding sinisterly from her middle and the blood that had pooled around her on the floorboards. This couldn't be real. There was no way. He refused to believe she was dead, even as Ethan grinned and said so on the other side of the drone.

He parted his lips to demand that Jacob check her for a pulse, but before he could get the words out, there was a second bang, and suddenly the screen went black. "Wait. No. What happened!?" Tearing his arm out of the guard's grip, the king lunged at the monitor, checking it over as if he would find a loose cord that he could plug back into place to fix the issue.

"It looked like he shot the drone, Your Majesty." Behind him, the guard frowned as he watched his ruler obsess over the darkened screen. "It wasn't built to withstand bullets."

"Shit!" Cas, raked his fingers through his hair. He still needed to get ahold of Jacob even if he couldn't see… He still had his comm device. It wasn't the drone he'd been using to communicate with his security officer. He needed to focus. Gathering the pieces of his composure, he lifted his trembling hand to the earpiece he was still wearing to tap into the line. "Jacob, check to see if she's still alive!" he ordered.

"I'm a little busy right now, Your Majesty," the guard hissed back through gritted teeth. In the time it had taken the king to remember his comm device, the team's target had started returning fire, and Jacob had ducked for cover just outside the bedroom door. Luckily, he was wearing the same standard bulletproof uniform as the rest of the soldiers, but he'd still taken a shot to the sternum that had winded him on his way to safety. He pressed a hand against the afflicted spot as he fought to catch his breath.

Unsurprisingly, Caspian had started arguing with him through his earpiece, demanding that he check on Iris right away to make sure that they could get her medical attention if she needed it. However, he ignored the shouting to focus on the more pressing issue at that moment: the man waving an automatic weapon around like a madman in the next room over.

He took a breath and leaned toward the door frame with his own gun. It was starting to seem like 'nonlethal' wasn't an option here. He wasn't going to sacrifice any of his men just to take an unruly hostage—especially one who didn't appear to be in his right mind—so, raising the pistol in his hands, he braced himself to take another shot and whirled around to plant himself in the open doorway as he fired back, this time aiming at the other man's head.

[Assistant]
The laughter of his could be heard throughout the home, a crazed madman who had felt like he had won everything. Plans upon plans, getting them all to this current place and of course it wasn't over, for him it was the end of the line but there were still whispers and rumours of the rebellion now fled from these walls. People would still join the cause, especially now a young King was on the throne who was full of inexperience. Things would only get worse and hopefully go downhill, but right now Ethan would at least leave his last mark by firing off the last bullets of his gun aiming for the soldiers that had come tonight.

Eyes wide and wild as he watched the soldiers all scramble, jumping out of the way of his shots and the impact against the old house was causing structural damage. One gunshot went right through the ceiling causing a chunk of it to crack and fall with a crash to the floor, dust and debris scattering across the room as the last few shots had been fired and his gun now empty. Blood poured down his leg from the gunshot he had received earlier, adrenaline wearing off as pain started to seep through, but it wasn't long now until they would assess him as a threat to kill.

It was then he saw the guard in the doorway, quick and fast and he held his own composure the sinister grin plastered on his face as the gunshot went right through his head killing him in moments clearly expecting this. For a few seconds he was sat grinning madly on the bed, blood seeping out of his new wound in the head before the body crumpled falling forward to the floor in a heap. Ethan was dead and in his last moments he hoped that they truly believed the rebellion was finally over by killing him.

Silence now greeted them and some of the soldiers started to move from their positions entering the room now the target was dead. Harry was one of the soldiers who had accompanied Jacob on this mission, and he had previously guarded Iris in the hospital after a rather sour interrogation. Things had certainly changed for them now to be completing some sort of rescue mission for her, but their efforts appeared to be in vain as he stepped into the room looking at a rather bloody scene before him.

Carefully he stepped over the falling debris of the ceiling and knelt down in front of the girl he had once guarded and placed two fingers against her cold skin looking for a pulse. In the background he could hear shuffle of feet of the other soldiers approaching the madman, one of them calling out to the room confirming he was indeed dead, and no threat remained. Shaking his own head, he was about to call it himself for the girl on the floor until he paused, pressing his fingers harder as he felt something so faint, he had almost missed it.

"Jacob." Nodding his head down to the girl to get him to check, "I'm probably imaging it. Ignore me" Shaking his head he put it down to false hope as he rose to his feet eyes sweeping over the body, he couldn't be sure if he had felt a pulse or not, but she had been here for a while he doubted she had survived.


[System]
Identity: Lady Cthulhu

City of Operation: Pheonix Arizona

Appearance: Normally seen wearing a kimono often colored green. Beneath the kimono she has what looks like a large Cthulhu tattoo on her entire back.

Age: 34

Gender: Female

Superpowers: Cythlla has the ability to summon the tentacles of Cthulhu, along with much of it's powers. She can make them do what she wishes, however using these over the years has come at the cost of her sanity.
Cythlla not only has the power to summon and use the tentacles of Cthulhu but also the ability to spread a mist of sorts that will make anyone who inhales it go insane.
Cythlla may also grow wings and fly, yet this will make her go into a very crazed state where she will attack whatever is in front of her.

Skills/ Talents: Cythlla can speak English, Japanese, and Mandarin. She is also very talented when it comes to running a criminal empire. She would have spread it beyond Pheonix by now if it weren't for six guns.

Equipment: Cythlla has a knife attached to her inner thigh, she also keeps a pistol inside of her kimono for when needed, though she rarely uses it herself as her victims often shoot themselves when they come in contact with her mist.

Weaknesses: Despite Cythlla being in contract with a half man half octopus, Cythlla can't actually swim. She is also insane and tends to make stupid mistakes when she goes into her insane state of mind.

Psyche: Cythlla views the world as something for her to conquer and control. At least through the use of drugs. She worships Cthulhu even and offers up sacrifices to him regularly.

History: Cythlla was born to an American mother, and a Japanese father. She was raised in Japan for about 10 years before moving to America to be with her mother. She had learned many of the cultures of her father, and on the outside she lived a rather normal life. Except for the part where her parents were both cultist that worshipped Cthulhu. She was even named after the supposed daughter of Cthulhu.
At around the age of 14 she was given a large tattoo of Cthulhu onto her back. At point she became able to wield the powers of Cthulhu himself. Although this is very taxing on her sanity. At around the age of 20 she started to build a criminal empire within Pheonix. She almost took over the city if it weren't for Sixgun.

[User]
"Ah, I have read even the tabloids, though I take usually with grain of salt... But, you know, every bit of information comes in handy. But I cannot say I am not very hopeful that the Professor's drinking problem is real and not the exaggerated checkout trash. Would so love to see how it affects his ability to use mind powers." He smiles and grunts deeply once or twice. Presumably a small chuckle at the hypothetical situation.

Ibor took another bite of chicken and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"I would like to be one of the peoples you send to meet this Argus. The public know my name, but I assume the costume draws more attention than the face. Nobody recognize me yet. It would draw not much attention if I were to arrive in the destination with some others in street clothes also... If they would be willing?"

He tosses a casual glance toward his new compatriots with a mild hint of skepticism in his eyes.

[Assistant]
Broker sat there while Ted stood. Both were a little frozen that they were just completely ignored. By the stiffness in Ted's body, she knew he was dying for direction. But she didn't give him anything. After a few seconds he made up his own mind. He turned and extended a hand to help Broker to her feet. She gave a small nod of her head. Not out of thanks, even though that was how it looked, but of agreement he was making the right decision.

If Cesare was intent on ignoring them, Broker could play at that game too. She knew names and faces. That was worth so much more than most people realized. She also knew two more names. Names of possible rivals for Cesare's little band of evil. Ted lead the way out of the pew, then Broker took the lead. Keeping Ted between her and potential danger. She still wanted to pay Argus a visit. Anyone who had information on the "good guys" was worth meeting. She might no longer be meeting on Cesare's behalf. But that didn't negate her own needs.

If Argus knew anything about Mixtape, she'd pay handsomely for it. And if Cesare got his knickers in a twist... Well, Broker wasn't above fighting dirty. After all, be this all on his head. She was willing to play nice, if only for the moment. The two stepped back out into the cold. Broker snug in her fur coat once more. Liam appeared as if by magic. Broker's eyes cast over the spot where St. Frank had been with his men. Liam would have collected any items that might be of use. There was no longer a reason to linger.

[User]
Amon Ru-Amen

---

The levitating man briefly stopped eating, setting down his fork and knife to glare at the scene unfolding between Cesare and Saint Frank. His red eyes seemed completely unamused, finding their exchange the least bit entertaining or useful. That is until the bald, angry man mentioned a weapons deal. I see, so that is his order of business. One of the tasks he surely will be giving us. However... that man seems incompetent. Amon continued to watch Frank and his troupe as they exited the building, only after the door closed did he bother to speak again. "Vulgar filth. We used to cut the tongues off of people like him," he mentioned casually, not particularly loudly or to anyone specific but with enough volume to express his opinion on Saint Frank. Amon silenced himself again and only listened while he resumed eating, using this time to gauge the importance or relevance of everyone present.

It was only after he finished his meal did he decide to make a call on what to do. "Cesare," he spoke, setting his silverware on the plate on his lap. "I can see what kind of man you are, and what kind of men the others are." Notably he said nothing of the women. "You command attention and respect, but you are no leader." Amon took the plate in his hands and ceased levitating, putting his feet on the floor to stand like a normal person. "However... I will lend you my strength for we share a common enemy." A menacing and malicious grin took Amon's face as he shifted his gaze from Cesare to the two men that were with Saint Frank who had returned from outside. Amon held the plate in the palm of his hand and lifted it up high, brandishing it for all to see. While keeping his grin and eye-contact with the two Sunflower members, the plate suddenly ignited in an intense yellow flame. The display only lasted a few brief seconds as the plate was burned to ashes and the silverware melted, dripping down from Amon's hand onto the floor where it burned the carpet.

As the ashes scattered when the flames ceased, Amon's expression returned to a neutral state and he returned his gaze to Cesare. "I will also attend the weapon deal this evening," he announced, bringing his hand back down to his side. "Amon Ru-Amen will annihilate anyone who interferes with the business, with extreme prejudice. If that vulgar mortal and his soldiers cannot keep the situation under control then I will step in and demonstrate true power." Amon took a brief moment to look around at the other gathered men and women, making sure to look each one directly in the eyes. It was almost as if he was looking straight into their souls. "I will take leave from this meeting early in order to make preparations." The brown-skinned man brought his fists together in front of his chest, giving a slight bow in the general direction of everyone at the table. Without another word he began his casual stride to the door, making sure to lock eyes with Baba and Cliff on the way out. Of all the people that had attended, something was different about Saint Frank that Amon picked up on immediately: he was only human. That was his greatest distinction from everyone else that Cesare had called upon. And the God-King knew that humans are weak.

[Assistant]
---

Abyss

---

Between bites Lester was taking a look at the bald, apparently Russian, man who seemed to also think poorly of the media and listened more intently to the call for serious information on the heroes they would be fighting and to the response of they're host also noting that he wasn't the only one silently interested in the conversation not to mention the Russian looking at him and the others. It was not a thought that graced his mind often because he rarely thought about how much fear someone like him could strike in the public but then again he was generally self-reliant rarely having to depend on someone to help or hide him if they even could. One thing that struck him was how no one seemed to call after the obvious fun to be had in dealing with Royale Patterson, he would call him Roy out of laziness, not to mention the possible threat posed by someone like him going rogue. Knowing how drug operations and the leadership worked it wasn't like the man was untouchable even with money/means though if he was smart enough with some balls he could cause them setbacks if it came down to it and Lester hated the idea of ruining an awesome gig like this because some lackey decided he was done. It gave him one clear target that he knew would bring him some enjoyment though he would have to hold back because the boss man still wanted him in line if possible, possible being the key word for him. Watching a few more people left, the mostly silent pair who left without a word with the fancy fur coat in tow and Ali Babba The Magnificent who could float and melt things as he was eager to show it, made for a wonder for how the other jobs were going to fair with them attending. Probably shouldn't keep the boss waiting for an answer for much longer, he might not let me choose if I do.

"As much fun as that sounds friend I'd like to know more about this Roy Patterson guy. After all I would be more than willing to give him a nice reason to keep with your plan but I do like to have some specifics about my targets beforehand, I mean I could always take my time with it to find out myself but you don't seem like a waiting man." Lester spoke with more purpose and focus ending in a more wily/playful smile at first giving feedback to the Russian before moving his attention to the man of the hour Cesare.

"However, you seem like a nice enough boss so if I might get a little heads up on Night Terror's activities after this trust exercise it would be great. I can understand if maybe you aren't willing but it would make tracking him down much easier when its time to, not to mention make me a happy clam." He continued suddenly feeling like he wanted clams but immediately striking down the stray thought even if he did get a few more bites of chicken in right afterwards.

I wonder if he would actually say so or not, depends on just how much he knows about me probably. Gonna be a good job either way but gotta wonder also who else is coming with if any in case I have to work with them...or they have to work with me which seems better.

[User]
It seemed as if this wasn't really a fan meeting, but still, it looked like there was at least one fan present. A man wearing jeans and an old t-shirt. Not the usual kind of fans, but she did not mind. A fan was a fan and possibly a next meal.

"Why thank you. It's always a pleasure to meet a fan." She said to the man. (@Sombrero)

Then, more and more people started to arrive and she just quietly sat on a chair and waited for what was going to happen. She was ready to transform at any time in case something went south, and with the amount of people in the room, she was sure that she could survive for a long time just be consuming whoever was closest.

It was then that Cesare, as he introduced himself, finally appeared and started by explaining what food was available. Shame that she had just eaten. She kept hearing the man without interrupting him just to see what exactly was going on. A team against the coalition? That sounded good in her mind. If they could help her track down Cherry Bomb and find out who she really is, that would be perfect. Of course, she wasn't going to allow anyone to harm Cherry Bomb. That was a pleasure for her and her only. She wanted to say what was on her mind, but she instead decided to keep quiet and just listen to what everyone had to say and what jobs they would do. It seemed as if the people were divided between going to the weapons deal and this Argus guy. She thought that the Argus job was bad for her. The meeting would be in a public place, and if she was recognized, that could spook Argus. As for the weapons deal, guns weren't really her thing. That left the Patterson job up. She was still deciding on what she was going to do when she caught a conversation between Cesare and another men. More importantly, she heard him mention Cherry Bomb. The moment she heard the name, her skin became slightly darker. Anyone that was looking at her could have spotted this transformation. Still, she quickly calmed herself and returned her skin to normal. Once the conversation was over, it was time for her to claim what she was going to do.

"I'll talk with this Patterson guy. Seems a job suited for me." She said to Cesare. "And if anyone wants to join me, I'll be glad to have them on board." She didn't really want company, but like they used to say in Hell, never go anywhere without a prepared meal...

[Assistant]
Cythlla had spent most of her morning working with some of her underlings on making a new drug trafficking route into the city oh Pheonix. It wasn't until midday that she got a message from one of her underlings. "What's this?" Cythlla said looking at the letter. She had a criminal empire to run and going to something that could be a trap wasn't something easy for her to choose to do.

She turned to her underling from her table, holding a fan in front of her face. "I guess I can leave Bob in charge of things for now, I should get to checking this out. Ready my plane." Cythlla said to the underling who brought her the letter. Cythlla was in a sane state of mind at the moment, not many would even know she was connected to Cthulhu if it weren't for green kimono with an octopus design near the bottom.

After a rather boring flight with a delay due to weather she finally ended up at her destination. She arrived to the luncheon a bit late. But she figured that if she was going to be late she may as well create an entrance. She was fully prepared for this being a trap. As she opened the doors she flung out her arms, small portals appeared next to her summoning a few tentacles out of mid air.

"I'm not one to walk right into a trap you know! Atleast not before making this my own trap!" Cythlla exclaimed.

She had a few of her underlings with her as well. Cythlla had a crazed look on her face. Using her powers often made her go into a state of insanity, but currently it was only mild insanity. "So who's in charge here? Who do I need to kill?" Cythlla asked with a toothy grin. She had almost no idea as to what was going on.


[System]
"Life's too short to be spent fighting. Sit down and enjoy the world and nature around you instead."
Age:
14

Gender:
Female

Race:
Dhamphir

Ranking:
Bishop

Appearance:
Amelia is small, some might say tiny. Standing in at a mere four-and-a-half feet tall and weighing a little less then a girl her age should, she has a very slight build and many people think she doesn't eat enough for her age. Her vampiric heritage results in her possessing very fair, flawless skin that burns easily when exposed the sunlight, resulting in her carrying an umbrella everywhere until nighttime.

Outside of school, she tends to wear either t-shirts and jeans or sundresses in the summer, depending on her mood, and sweaters to go with her jeans in the winter. Her preferred colors appear to be shades of blue and green along with white. In the summer, she wear sandals but boots in the winter.

Skills:
Like her Master, Amelia is talented in the arts of drawing and painting and has a near photographic memory when it comes to landscapes, which are her primary subject of interest for said art. She also has a talent for gardening and takes care of several plants around the school and the teams main base of operations. She has also taken up an interest in cooking and often helps Nora, trying to make sure her fellow devil doesn't somehow hurt herself (seriously, how do you hurt yourself preparing salad?)

Sacred Gear:
None

Magic:
As a Dhampir, Amelia has access to some of the vampire race's abilities, such as the ability to control bats and use them as scouts or transforming into a swarm of them to escape a dangerous situation. However, she really shines outside of her vampiric abilities.

Amelia has a strong affinity for Elementals and is able to summons several she has formed contracts with at aid her and her peerage in battle. Her current abilities don't allow her to contract with anything as strong as a primordial-class elemental, as the strain could possibly kill her, and she is instead limited to lesser-class elementals.

Her current contracts are with a lesser earth elemental she calls Firma, who resembles several rocks joined together in a vaguely humanoid shape, standing about two feet tall. Firma is able to reinforce stone structures to make them more resilient to damage, summon and hurl large stones and earth spikes as a form of offence, and summon domes of earth to protect itself and others. She also has a lesser wind elemental she calls Aery, who is another scout she can use, taking the form visibly wind currents in the shape of a small bird. Aery has no offensive abilities, but being a creature composed of wind, is very hard to confine and can summon strong winds to slow others or redirect some projectile attacks like arrows. Amelia's final spirit is Rain, a lesser Water elemental, taking the form of a two-foot tall female humanoid composed of water from the waist up and a water spout from the waist down. Rain can use high pressured water to attack and can summon small quantities of water with healing properties to treat minor wounds.

All three elementals boast a high resistance to their element but are incredibly weak to the opposite, save Aery who need to be imprisoned in a solid container of any kind to be stopped. Rain and Firma will disappear if hit is a decent Fire or Wind attribute attack respectively.

Outside of her summons, Amelia knows all the basic Devil spells

Strengths:
At the moment, Amelia is actually rather weak and does not boast a lot of strengths, but rather potential. With her talent for summoning and affinity for elementals, she has the possibility to become a versatile and powerful asset on the battlefield. As a Bishop, she boasts powerful magical potential and given time, she could learn magic outside of her specialty.

Currently, Amelia's best strength is as an indirect scout, using her bats and Aery as a means to get a lay of the land and her enemies' locations easily without putting herself and others in harms way. She can also provide minor support with Rain and Firma but not to the extent of some of her fellow peerage members.

Weaknesses:
In terms of combat, Amelia's biggest weakness is that she is largely a non-combatant. She has no skills and hand-to-hand combat, having to rely on her transformation ability to get out of such a scenario should she find herself in one. She doesn't know any offensive or defensive magic, relying entirely on her summons to do the work for her, despite their relatively low power.

Her weaknesses in combat are compounded by her poor physical state. Amelia lacks stamina due to her preference to do more relaxing, less strenuous activities. If she is not able to use her magic, she will not last long and can likely be taken down in a matter of seconds.

Another exploitable weakness is her higher then average sensitivity to sunlight for a Dhampir. While most of her kind find sunlight simply uncomfortable, Amelia finds it outright painful and burns incredibly easily when exposed, even if it's just a form of magic mimicking sunlight.

Personality:
Amelia is a kind, gentle, and caring young girl, but also incredibly shy and low in the self-esteem department. Amelia will never talk to someone she doesn't know unless she absolutely has to. She's even hesitant to talk to her peerage and voice her opinion unless directly asked. The exception is Ixveria, whom she respects and views as an older sister figure.When she does talk her tone is often soft and low, as if she is still scared to speak her own words, and she often avoids looking at the one she is addressing. If she is feeling embarrassed or upset, she will sometimes use her umbrella to hide her face so such emotions are not shown to others.

Past the shy exterior, should one get past it, is the3 kind and gentle girl Amelia truly is. She cares greatly for the members of her peerage, who she views as her family. She will push herself as far as she can and beyond to help them, even if it comes at the expense of her own health and safety. The only time she'll hesitate in doing so is if combat is involved, as Amelia detests violence and will only take part in fighting if she absolutely has to.

Around her elementals, Amelia is much more open, finding them easier to talk to then other humanoids. She treats her contracted elementals very kindly and hates that she has to use them in combat, even though it is part of their contract. They are usually the ones that she turns to when she needs to talk about her problems, as she doesn't want to bother her 'family' with what she might view as a minor problem.

Deep inside of her, Amelia harbors a deep hatred for pure-blood vampires and their xenophobic ways. She does not view herself as subject to their orders and is secretly glad if she never hears from their for the rest of her life, unlikely as that may be.

History:
Amelia is a member of the Tepes faction of vampires, born from a one-night stand between her vampiric father and human mother. Her mother's name was Ellis Averyonna but she doesn't not know or does not care for her father's name. Shortly after her birth, her father came and took her and her mother, making them both servants in his castle. However, he did not treat either of them with respect, looking down on Ellis and viewing Amelia in an even worse light. Both were treated rather poorly in the beginning but things didn't get any better as time went on. In fact, it would be easy for one to say that they only got worse.

Amelia's father was a pure-blooded extremist and only kept her around since he had a sense of duty towards family. Her mother was nothing more then a plaything to him for that one night and a servant from Amelia's birth on. His love for his daughter was non-existent and he did not hesitate to hit her if she aggravated him in even the slightest. Ellis tried her best to protect her daughter from her father, but that was not easy to do when they lived within his own castle. As Amelia grew older, her father's temper grew shorter and him simply hitting her would escalate to him beating her when angry, even if she had done nothing to anger him herself.

Things finally reached their breaking point a year ago, when the worse case scenario occurred. The Carmilla Faction attacked her father's castle and he and his forces retaliated in kind. During the attack, Amelia and Ellis stuck together and tried to avoid all the violence. However, a they where inevitable caught up in the crossfire and Ellis died protecting her daughter from a stray magical missile. Despite hoping that it was all a dream, the young girl was forced to watch as her only supporter died in front of her.

Amelia's father and his forces won the battle and when he discovered Ellis' fate, he simply had her disposed of like trash, glad to finally be rid of the woman. Amelia, already in a terrible state due to grief, finally lost her temper and talked back at her father, calling him out on all the things she had been forced to put up with under his roof and his hypocrisy in regards to his family and his treatment of them. Infuriated at this little outburst and well aware of his daughter's inability to stand sunlight for prolonged periods, her father was more then happy to finally have a reason (in his mind) to be rid of her and had her chained up to a large stone about a mile from his estate and well out of the way of any human settlements.

When the sun finally rose, it was painful for Amelia but the longer she was out there, the more intense the pain got as she felt her skin beginning to burn. She felt like she was on fire and eventually, she blacked out from the pain, part of her accepting her fate to be out here to suffer until she passed away. A larger part of her resisted though, and cried out for help from anyone. She knew of Angels, Fallen Angels, and Devils. While she doubted Angels would ever come to save one of her kind, she was more then willing to have her prayers answered by one of the other two races.

Her silent prayers were answered and summoned Ixervia to her after she had been trapped on the rock for almost three whole days. Incredibly weak and desperate to live, Amelia did not hesitate in forming a contract with the Devil in front of her. It would take her a while to recover from her ordeal but when she did, she immediately began studying magic to try and make herself as useful as possible. It was during her studies that she discovered her affinity for elementals and summoning magic, quickly forming contracts with Firma, Rain, and Aery. Now a days, she happy to live a peaceful life, just enjoying each day and her freedom of her father.

Other:
"I Chooseth this fate of my own free will"

[User]
Shitenhoji Academy one of the largest escalator schools located in Japan. Often it was also considered one of the most premier but to most however unlike schools such as Kuoh who focused majorly on academics Shitenhoji was different and boasted high marks in both athletics and Arts. As the school bell rang to end the day students of all sorts left and began their after class clubs. Shitenhoji Academy made it a requirement that students join clubs or a committee as to better themselves and gain knowledge and skills that will aid them even out of the academy. This was often enforced strictly with the student council checking to make sure each student was at least part of one club.

Ixveria looked around leisurely spinning in what appeared to be a overly large office char with a large back. It made it somewhat comical to a outside viewer and she was sure that some of her peerage watching the scene was chuckling to themselves being the right bastards that they were at times. Either way she was bored and it was showing as she quickly placed yet another sweet into her mouth. Yes to the school Ixveria was the local sweet nut and also president of what was on paper a help group aimed to help students and others with their needs. This front helped with gaining clients for her peerage who was mostly gathered in the room. Dimitri being the flirt he was shown rubbing his cheek a red imprint of a hand clearly seen on his face. While Amelia being one of her youngest members was off in corner of the couch with her recent member Nora facing adjacent of her. Auriola was in the kitchen she had added so she could get easier access to sweets baking a cake of sorts to welcome the new member. Haku however was being his normal self as she saw him entering that left the supposed "supervisor" of the club Izumi though considering his role as a new teacher she was sure he would arrive soon.

[Assistant]
Auriola

"Happy...what could this day be called? Devil-Day? Demonbirthday? No, all too ominous..." Auriola pondered quietly, spreading a layer of powdered sugar onto the double layered chocolate icing-stuffed sponge cake she'd been making since classes ended. A blank expression rested on the artificial humanoid's face as she thought on what to write on the top in vanilla frosting...perhaps simply "Welcome Nora" would suffice, but it still bothered her that she didn't have the creativity for a new holiday for inducting new peerage members. From what Ixveria had described, it seemed the new girl had a rough time with her death...dying by one's own manifesting power winds up being a confusing mess the day you're resurrected.

Simply writing out "Welcome!" in the creamy white frosting, Auriola felt that cake would be satisfactory...though she'd have to make sure everyone got a piece before Ixveria. Usually her piece wound up being about half the cake for just the sugar...it honestly surprised her how eager she'd be to suck down something even with powdered sugar on top. That aside, the robotic maiden's hair suddenly pulled up into two twin tails, her right arm's mass congealing into a giant metallic blade, sharpened to perfection. "Hehe...Just leave this to me~" she chimed happily, personality suddenly shifted to that of a bubbly schoolgirl who just happened to be a death bot.

 Now that the Chastity Driver was active, her gargantuan sword arm slowly descended upon the cake, her tongue pushed out of her lips and up as she concentrated. If she could sweat, she would be right about now. With the platter only SLIGHTLY cracked in half, Chastity Auriola beamed, sword arm transforming back to normal as she put her hands on her hips. "Mm! Mhm! Absolutely perfect! Nora's gonna live it~" she said, before her hair suddenly fell back into its straight style. "Operation complete. she said, starting to place the pieces of perfectly sliced cake onto plates.


[System]
Appearance:

Height/Weight: 5', 90lbs

Age: 19

Personality: Happy, upbeat and infinitely curious, Brenda tries her best to see the bright side in any situation. She panics easily, but quickly regains a manic sort of composure. She's more likely to act before thinking and deal with the consequences. The common tongue is her second language, so she sometimes misunderstands.

Home Island/Sea: Okidou Island, East Blue. An island with large forests of strong trees, chiefly exported for shipmaking. The island's inhabitants take care to the forests to ensure they plant more trees than they cut down, to ensure future livelihood. The people have their own language.

History:

Brenda grew up on Okidou Island watching the varieties of ship arrive to buy the islands wood, amazed that pieces of her homeland would travel so far. She always wanted to find out how the ships were made.

When she was nine, a storm sunk a ship near Okidou's coast. The people all helped out with the rescue. Much of the cargo was lost under the sea, but Brenda rowed her home-made raft out, swam down and found a watertight box containing a devil fruit, which she ate back at her 'secret hideout', a beach hut she also made herself.

Brenda loved her amazing new powers, but the folk back home weren't quite so happy. The captain of the sunken ship was especially displeased, as he intended to trade the fruit for a large supply of wood, to supply his shipyard. Regardless, something about the young girl's passion for carpentry appealed to him, so he made a deal with Brenda's father. She would come with him to work off the cost of the fruit, learning a shipwright's trade.

Ten years later, Brenda has finished paying off the fruit (Which also happened to be the day her tutor decided she'd learned all he could teach) and set out to explore the oceans, see new styles of carpentry. While she was working at the shipyard, Brenda took plenty of photographs (Some kind of snail-based camera?) to write letters home, and as a farewell gift the master of the shipyard gave her an empty book, to fill with memories of her journey.

Fruit:

Maze-Maze no Mi, AKA the Mix-Mix Fruit. Paramecia Type. Brenda has the ability to turn herself and other objects into a putty-like substance by rpidly kneading it with her hands. They turn back if left alone, but while transformed it can be mixed with another liquid or transformed substance, to combine the two. She can also separate the objects again by reaching 'in' and pulling it out.

Common uses for Brenda include mixing a wooden plank into glue, to get a substance that's sticky and applyable by brush but hardens into a solid wooden coating, mixing a hammer into her hand for an iron punch, or mixing cloth with a sheet of metal to easily shape it, then remove the cloth and end up with metal in the required shape.

The chief limitations on the ability are that Brenda can only transform an object small or light enough for her to lift, as she needs to use both hands to putty-ify something, and she is unable to use her ability on living creatures other than herself. Soaking combined objects in saltwater also unmixes them if done within the first few days, as the sea nullifies the devil-fruit power.

It also has a tendancy to activate when Brenda is distracted or startled, mixing her with her gear. Her hat and hair often fuse as soon as she stops paying attention, giving her a hairstyle in the shape of a hat, with it's decorations mixed in. If Brenda trips into a pile of bricks, she may turn to putty and splatter into them, reforming herself very blocky. And she tends to wake up in the morning with a pillow for a head.

Mix-Mix Combine
Rapidly knead into putty and combine two or more objects.

Mix-Mix Augment
Combine an object with a part of her body, to boost herself somehow, or gain some measure of control over it. (e.g. Hammer fist, rope tail, telescope eyes)

Mix-Mix Full Body Putty
Brenda transforms her whole body into putty. Very limited mobility, but greatly increased defence. Needs to be in this state to use Mix-Mix Full Body augment

Mix-Mix Full Body Augment
Brenda combines her whole self with an object or objects. This needs a greater supply of objects to be effective, or else they are too diluted.

Mix-Mix Separate
Pull objects out of a Mix-Mix technique, restoring them to their original properties.

So far, Brenda can only use Mix-Mix Separate on objects she's added to the mix herself. She may develop the ability to undo other mixtures or compounds in the future.

As well as the size limitation, the more alive something is, the harder it is for Brenda to work on it. Something completely inorganic is the easiest, with 'dead' organic matter such as a plank, cloth or a steak being only a little harder. A living plant is the limitation of her ability. Animals or people (Other than herself) are beyond Brenda's capabilities to alter. For now, anyway.

Fighting style: Brenda is not a skilled fighter, but if pressured into a fight her style would be best described as 'wild brawling'. She throws whatever is to hand, mixes tools into herself for extra punching power and crawls under tables, over chairs and slams doors in faces or dumps pots on heads. She's no match for a skilled fighter, but can keep an amateur off guard long enough to escape. If cornered, she'd probably try setting something on fire.

Ship Position: Assistant Shipwright

Bounty: Insignificant (May have picked up a few hundred for petty crimes in local jurisdictions, but nothing that would cross a sea)

[User]
"Run to the hiiiiiiiiiiiiils~"
Nearly instantly hitting the deck as the sounds of cannon fire echoed through the town, Leonard was definitely scared, shivering as he ran after Abel. The last thing he wanted was to stay inside a building while they were hailing cannon fire. Sticking close to Abel and awestruck that a human being just caught a cannonball and LIVED, he silently obeyed Abel's request. Gently moving her so that oxygen was ensured to flow to her brain, Leonard huddled against the wall, shaking slightly. If one thing was apparent to anybody, he was scared. Scared out of his mind. So scared he actually was starting to hyper-ventilate. With shaking hands, he reached back into his cloak, pulling out his black-iron mask, placing it over his mouth so he wouldn't breath so rapidly. Like an iron paper bag.

Looking at Nikko sadly, he hugged his knees against his chest. "...I wish...I-I wish I could help..." he says quietly, before gingerly placing his hand behind Nikko's head, making sure she wasn't bleeding from the head. "No sign of swelling...just...w-what is this woman made of? A normal person would be dead." he affirms as he quickly puts her head back where it was against the wall. As long as she didn't move too badly, even if she had a concussion, he would have some painkillers ready for her when she awoke. Keeping his eyes out for any danger, he was ready to move her at any time if need be.

[Assistant]
"Shattering" Sylas

"Alright, it's been a long enough delay. It's time to continue on with my journey into the Grand Line." He wasn't talking to anyone in particular, he never was. The eccentric man walked alone along the port, his hands behind his head with his elbows out to the side in a relaxed pose despite the fact he was walking. "But it seems that this will have to be my ship from now on. I suppose she deserves a name, for surviving as long as she has. Hmmm... perhaps Chain Breaker Junior? No, pops would roll in his grave. It needs to be unique, magnificent, and most importantly it must scream that it was christened by Sylas Maison!" He finally arrived, standing before his ship. A solid glass vessel, shaped like a miniature galleon. Despite the fact it had no canvas on the empty mast, it was equipped with two large oars as a means of propulsion.

"I've got it! She shall be the White Rose!!" Sylas thrust his hand into the air and crossed his other arm over his chest, making an overly dramatic and equally lame pose. In an epic cue, the sound of cannonfire rang across the port at the very second he struck the silly pose. "Wha-?" While several others that had been walking around the port immediately ducked in cover as ships along the port began to explode, Sylas remained in his pose as the explosions rocked around him. He wasn't particularly worried for his own health as only one cannonball exploded nearby. And it had crashed into his glass ship, destroying it instantly and sending shards of glass in all directions while the majority of the hull sank into the water.

He remained frozen in place, his face contorted in an expression of comic disbelief. "White Rose!! Noooo!!" He broke the silence, collapsing onto his knees and taking his head in his hands in grief. By now the others had all run from the port, not willing to take the chance to see if the marine ships would open fire again. "A legendary vessel struck down the very day she earned her name! The adventures to come will never get to be!" Sylas looked almost as if he was about to cry, before suddenly recomposing himself and getting back on his feet. "It was pretty small anyways. Now I have a good excuse to make a new ship of the proper size. I bet I can get a proper mast even. But first..." His right hand moved up to smoothly adjust his glasses as his gaze stretched down the harbor, past the other sinking ships, to spot the landing marines.

"Shattering Sylas must avenge his fallen vessel..."

As a platoon of marines began to make their way from the ship towards the town, weapons already drawn, one of the young men on the right flank felt an ominous presence and noticed a shadow covering him. When he looked up and to the right to see what it was, his eyes widened in genuine surprise. Sylas came down on him, holding a gigantic hammer over his head. The odd pirate slammed into the formation of soldiers with an explosion of dust, concrete, and glass, sending soldiers flying in all directions. As the dust cleared and the marines began to pick themselves back up, Sylas was seen holding the large glass handle, notably broken off at the top from where the hammerhead had been destroyed. "I can see it now," Sylas spoke, his voice low and ominous as the glass in his hands began to regenerate, reforming the hammer.

"Shattering Sylas shatters entire Navy fleet, saves the innocent Town of Contradictions in a stunning display of passion for his beloved ship, White Rose. A long headline, but a proper one for sure." While he seemed intent on talking to himself, several marines prepared a sword charge, coming at him from all sides with their blades raised. "Hmmm, perhaps it should be shortened just a little..." Gripping his giant weapon tightly, Sylas swung it around in a full circle, the sheer size and weight of the glass hammer bashing any swords out of the way and sending the marine attached flying backwards. One full rotation later and Sylas was no longer in any danger from the marines. "Now that I look closer, it seems that there are many marines on the scene..."

Resting the weapon on his shoulder, Sylas looked back towards the town. Several other platoons had already landed and entered, causing whatever mess they were going to make. Then he looked back towards the port, at the Navy ships that were still on the water and prepared to deliver more cannonfire. "A more cowardly man might consider this a good time for a tactical retreat. But not I. My thirst for revenge will not be sated until their ships share the same fate as White Rose!" One of the marines on the ground began to move, slowly and stealthily drawing his pistol. As he aimed the weapon at Sylas's back for a surprise attack, the young man suddenly turned around and slammed the hammer against his hands in a horizontal swing. Surely this broke the marine's hands and arms, but it also sent the pistol flying into the distance like a home run. "Besides, I'm sure if I tried to sail away those ships out there would gun me down. Definitely have to handle the Navy before I leave this town..."


[System]
Rank: Cadet Sergeant at NAIS, Subaltern in the field (brevet rank)
Allegiance: Federated Suns (House Davion)
Planetary Origin: Caph
MOS: Mechwarrior
Synopsis of Role: The son of a Caph businessman with ancestral ties to pre-Succession War Caph aristocracy and a Davion veteran mechwarrior of the 3rd Crucis Lancers, Mattlov is current enrolled in NAIS. Has not risen past cadet sergeant because, while capable, he sometimes racks up demerits. He is noted for his affinity with medium mechs and a taste for hit and run tactics.
Battlemech: SHD-2Hb, but retrofitted with an AC/5 and ER Large Laser while retaining the Streak SRM-2's. The intent behind this mech is to function as a testbed for special munitions to augment standard autocannons and the Star League era vehicle with the Ferro-Fibrous armor and Endosteel was a viable upgrade that didn't involve the side-torso vulnerability of XL engines.

[User]
AFFS Subaltern Johan Rosales-Eichberg
Rifleman RFL-5D

 "Excellent work, Eichberg!" Han replied at Johans contact report, but he quickly followed up with criticism. "A little faster on the draw next time would be appreciated, however." Johan only flicked the radio on for a second to reply with "Roger."
Johan glanced at his heat gauge and watched it slowly go down, the double heat sinks no doubt working as fast as they could in the ambient heat of Steelton. He grabbed the end of his shorts and flapped it to cool off a little as he kept his eye on the battlemap. If anyone needed fire support, he would be able to find them on his battlemap and deliver the required support much quicker than if he were to try to find them with his eyes. He was always told that while it was good to know how to fight without instruments, having good instruments were still very useful in a fight. A badass pilot is great, but a badass pilot with good radar and sensors is even better.

 Johan watched as Mattlov moved to engage the Thunderbolt, forcing it to turn to face his flanking Shadow Hawk. The two exchanged fire, Mattlov managing to come out on top of that engagement. The Thunderbolt, now turned, had his back turned to Lyris. She took advantage of the flank and rushed into combat, sprinting at top speed towards the heavier battlemech. Johan watched anxiously, in a battle every situation could go wrong, the Thunderbolt could suddenly turn and alpha strike his friend, and a lucky hit could kill her instantly. He glanced to his heat again, it was going down, but not fast enough. Johan twisted the torso of his rifleman in preparation to step out. The small pilot felt his heart pound and he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Then he saw a new blip on his battlemap, it must have been the Urbanmech. Even at a distance he heard the AC/20's boom, a low thunderclap. Johan pushed his war machine to the limit, going as fast as he could into a run, he needed to clear his cover quickly to get a shot off at the Urbanmech. He kept one eye on the battlemap as he put one foot in front of the other. Lyris' blip didn't go out, so the shot either missed or she survived.

 He cleared the cover, seeing Lyris in the air, twisting to protect her head from the Thunderbolts array of medium lasers. A quick glance at the battlefield and he saw his target, hearing his friend shout, the Urbanmech was running at full speed to the Thunderbolts side. He concentrated on halting his mech as the Urbanmech fired again. Another low thunderclap, a shell of metal doom soared up from the short barrel of the AC/20 towards Lyris. Johans stomach dropped, was he too late? Would Lyris survive that shell? If it hit a noncritical component, an arm, or a leg, she could come out okay. But if it hit a side torso, and it dug into the internals, the shrapnel could shoot out into the cockpit and injure her. He could only watch as the shell approached her mech... and it went right past her, missing by about a dozen meters. The shell arced over and disappeared from view, likely landing somewhere behind Johan. He sighed in relief and halted his mech completely. He had to aim fast, he could imagine the ammo bin of the enemy AC/20 loading in another massive round. To be sure he zoomed with his neurohelm and hovered the crosshair over the gun arm of the Urbanmech once more. He squeezed the trigger for one large laser again, it would be enough, and he wanted the other laser to stay charged in case he missed with this one. The familiar blue beam surged forwards, connecting with right side torso just below the gun arm, at the hip. He pulled the laser towards the AC/20 itself and as the Urbanmech pilot tried to twist the to protect the gun. The laser found itself slashing across the AC/20 and even burning down the gun barrel itself. The gun must have been loaded. The Urbanmechs right arm exploded catastrophically, a sudden high pitched crack that sent pieces of armor and mangled gun parts at speed into the sandy ground. The area around the Urbanmech kicked up sand and dust like an airburst artillery shell had just detonated above the ground. The Urbanmech itself was midstride, and the ammunition explosion in the right arm sent the mech sideways, smashed into the ground.

 "Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over." He said into the communications network, relief in his voice. What wasn't reliving was that he now had the full attention of the Thunderbolt. It ignored the other mechs closer to it, Lyris' Griffin and Mattlov's Shadow Hawk. The pirate battlemech broke out into a full sprint towards Johan, who was stunned for a second at the sudden recklessness of the enemy mech. Johan put his mech into reverse, but the Thunderbolt charging forward was quicker. He fired a PPC quickly aimed at the heavy mech, the bolt of lightning striking it right in the center torso but the mech surged forward with intensity still, only recoiling a little against the attack. It ignored any attacks and rushed Johan, furious at the Rifleman who gunned down his companion. The Thunderbolt slammed its foot down and used its momentum to slide closer to Johan, the pilot knowing exactly how far its battlemechs intertia would take it. A mere few meters away from Johans Rifleman, the Thunderbolt thrust its left hand forward, open palmed at the Riflemans left torso. The hand impacted with a deafening crash of metal on metal, and then four quieter, but still noticeable clangs. The Thunderbolt had dug its fingers into the side torso of Johans battlemech. Johan shouted a curse as the Thunderbolt yanked his mech towards him, forcing Johan to step foward and twist his torso right slightly, forcing his guns line of attack away from the Thunderbolts torso. Johan managed to get his left gun arm pointed at his attackers left arm, and burned a laser into the Thunderbolts arm, but the pirate ignored the attack. He responded by punching with his right arm, slamming his heavy mechs fist into the Riflemans left leg, crumpling armor plating. As Johans large laser was still cycling, the Thunderbolt punched again, this time a hammer blow into the left underarm of Johan's battlemech, throwing off his aim.
"Scheisse! Help!" He shouted desperately, sweating from the heat and the pressure from the attacker. In a bid to try and resist the grapple, Johan kneed the crazed pirate, he felt the attack connect but he wasn't sure where he hit. The Thunderbolt slammed his arm into the Riflemans left leg once more, collapsing the armor plating and crushing the myomer underneath. Sparks shot out from the wound in the leg, Johan heard alarms and saw on the paper doll that his left leg had been damaged heavily.

[Assistant]
Lyris Von Wulfhart

---

---

The sudden appearance of the Urbanmech had thrown Lyris in an unattainable situation. Unable to retreat, nor push for the Thunderbolt's flank without risking a shot from an AC 20 or take fire from the Thunderbolt directly. Every resounding boom from the Urbanmech caused her heart to pound in her chest. Just as visions of an autocannon round cleaving her mech in two flashed through her mind, there came another sound altogether. The humming thrum of what Lyris recognized was a powerful laser shot. It took a while for Lyris to realize the source of the shot from the HUD function of her neurohelmet. The superheated beam struck the enemy urbanmech and seemingly disabled it in one well aimed shot

 "Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over."

Lyris recognized Johan's voice over the radio and breathed a sigh of relief-- she owed Mouse for this one. Before she could recover or take advantage of the sudden turn of events the Thunderbolt facing her dropped all interest in either her or Peter. It took Lyris a moment to correct her steeds stance before she could give chase, having not anticipated this strange reaction from the pirate mechwarrior. She wasted no time in giving chase, firing wild shots into the compromised armor of the heavy mechs rear. The mechwarrior pirate ignored all of these and continued its wild charge. It took her only a moment to realize the pirate's target as it ran toward their line. She pushed her engine until her steed had fallen into a full sprint, desperation plagued her thoughts as a spark of fear in her chest grew. What if she did not make it in time?

By the time she closed the distance once more the pirate had already engaged Johan's Riflemen in a deadly melee of metal on metal violence. Lyris cursed under her breath, but she had been offered one advantage at least. As the heavy pirate battlemech slammed its right arm into the Riflemen's leg, Lyris quickly rotated her mech's upper torso to the right -- hydraulics hissing and actuator motors roaring with the motion. At the tail end of her charge, she willed the upper body to swing around to the left again, using the momentum of her sprint and twist to send the oversized hatchet she carried into a deadly horizontal arc toward the rear of the Thunderbolt.

With a guttural growl, she aimed for the section of the Thunderbolt where upper torso connected its bottom legs. A resounding crash of whining metal and tearing iron echoed with the impact. The jolt was so violent in fact it rocked Lyris in her seat causing her to be flung forward slightly before her momentum became restrained by the harnesses that kept her rooted to her chair. She tasted blood as she realized she must have bitten her lip from the reckless move. Still, her blow was quite telling as her ax sunk rudely into the structure of the Thunderbolt.

It stumbled forward before arresting its momentum, however, before the pirate mechwarrior could recover fully from the blow Lyris opened the left palm of her haptic gauntlet. Her mech's hand began releasing the hatchet, which left it to rest in the back of the Thunderbolt. Metal whined, and sparks flew from the location of her attack. The massive bladed weapon had stuck fast directly into the motors that allowed the Thunderbolt to twist its torso. The pirate's heavy mech was now left unable to maneuver and retaliate against their aggressor. Lyris backed her Griffin off as the trio of lasers located in her mech's right charged with power.

A salvo of laser fire slammed into the already compromised back armor of the Thunderbolt. Her HUD revealed severe structural damage as the mechs internals became wrecked from the stream of laser fire. The pirate's mech still stood, however, and unable to turn in time, it instead took a lumbering step toward the Riflemen, perhaps hoping to charge directly into it now that it could no longer twist to punch with its fists.

 "Oh, sterben gerade!"She yelled in frustration.

She fired another salvo pushing her engine into the red zone as the heat began to build to near critical levels. Three lancing beams of green light cut a trail across the Thunderbolts rear structure, back and forth like the daft movements of a painter. This time, finally, she had found the components she had been hoping for as a massive explosion rocked across the Thunderbolts body as the LRM ammunition it carried cooked off. The entire upper left torso was at one instance engulfed in flames before it seemingly shattered and exploded, taking its whole left arm with it. The LRM launcher went as well as the thing rocked violently to one side, barely staying on its feet before finally falling with a ground shaking thud. Amidst the thunderous fall came a series of secondary explosions as missiles flew into the air amidst hot red shrapnel like a bizarre and horrible fireworks display.

Lyris pulled her mech back quickly as she instinctively shielded her cockpit with her left shield arm. As the explosions died down and the pauses between them grew longer Lyris let out a shuddering breath before keying communications.

"You still with us Mouse?" A layer of concern in her voice.


[System]
Age: 21

Appearance:

Though opinions vary on how beautiful Artemis is, no one can deny she's a striking figure to see, with her brown skin, starlight hair, and aqua eyes. She's a tall, slender thing standing at 5'9", with long, willowy limbs and subtle curves beneath her clothing. Her wardrobe is eclectic, with various scarves, jewelry, and feathers. She paints different markings on her skin and arms, adding to her unique look.

Occupation: Traveling Mystic

Personality: Artemis is whoever she needs to be to get by. But whether she's quiet and mysterious, or flirtatious and inviting, the one constant is that she's always looking out for herself. Though not particularly interested in other people, she enjoys using them as her primary source of entertainment. It's difficult to know who Artemis truly is or what she cares about, as she keeps everything truly important locked away – especially from herself.

History: Before she was Artemis, she was Emira Janan Mathilde Basira Felicity Lujayn Cosima Airtifae-Alqamar, Grande Duchess of the Silver Valley. Young Emira and her little brother Idris grew up with all the advantages that came with nobility. Idris, though younger than Emira, was the heir apparent. This was just fine with her – Emira was not quite suited for nobility. She was clever, worldly, and even charming when she wanted to be, but she had no interest in politics and governing. Idris, with his patience and generosity, would do well, while she entertained herself with seeing how quickly she could insult a dignitary and how long she could keep him from storming out of the palace after that.

When she was fifteen years old, a plague swept through the valley. They called it the Climbing Vine for the slow, crawling way it choked the life from its victims. Their mother was the first to catch it. Then their father. Emira and Idris were quarantined from their parents for more than a year before their died. The night before Idris' coronation, he fainted.

Preparations were being made for Emira's coronation even before Idris passed. Half a year after he first started showing symptoms, Emira charmed her way past the guard and crept into her little brother's room, as she had so many times before. Sometimes he had good nights, in spite of the sickness. His eyes would be bright and his laugh would ring out like a bell as she gossiped with him about the stuffy dignitaries, so full of themselves it was a wonder they fit through the palace doors. But that night was not a good night.

His eyes were glassy and his smile was weak as he clutched his big sister's hand with his waning strength. He whispered how proud he was of her, and how wonderful a ruler she'd be. Emira was the cleverest, strongest, funniest person he knew, and the people would adore her. They'd love her as much as he did. Emira looked at him for a long moment. Then she placed a kiss on his damp forehead, careful not to let any tears fall on him. She ran from the palace that night.

When she was eighteen years old, Artemis locked Emira away with her guilt and tried not to look back.

When she was nineteen, she heard a rumor that the Grand Duke of the Silver Valley had finally died without an heir.

Artemis traveled from one town to another, making her living as a mystic. In reality she was little more than a charlatan. Her ethereal looks, intelligence, and the skills she learned at court – languages, dancing, and singing, among others – helped her sell the facade. Before waking up in the forest, she made her living telling fortunes, selling "enchanted" baubles and sometimes outright stealing. Artemis played whatever role was required to entice her customers, and dazzled them with petty revelations about their futures or innermost thoughts (either flat out lies, generic statements that were easy to read into, or educated guesses based on how the customers presented themselves).

She told herself it was easier to forget over time – easier to push away the guilt. She could turn into someone else and feel nothing at all. After all, it was Emira who'd turned her back and ran from her Valley. Her little brother. Not Artemis.

Maybe if she said it enough times it would make it true.

[User]
The Lady of Stone was as cold as the darkness; at Anise's touch she grinned and returned to the soil, leaving the princess to try her convincing alone in the illuminated cave. She saw the images, felt the words and their meaning -- and when Anise was finished, the Lady was nowhere to be seen ... but her voice rumbled in the walls, thick with sarcasm.

"How lovely! What a quaint little place. All this talk of light and hope has made me remember something I've forgotten to tell you: Shadow has got himself a new champion, one who will crush you and your precious dragon. And now I have something to tell him: there is a place still bathed in sunlight, that is ripe to be plunged into darkness. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear it."

With that, a deadened silence descended upon the cave; the Lady had gone, not to be called back.

After a few moments, the sound of a shovel struck above, and bits of dirt fell on Anise's head; it was Peck, digging his way toward her. A tiny beam of moonlight sifted through -- and Peck's calls of her name were drowned by the roar of the Dragon.

The sword brightened with the call.

As Artemis' fingers curled around the Lantern's handle -- as the cloth fell away from the bright green within -- the Dragon's roar trembled throughout the island.

The dead flickered and hid from the noise. Their own whispers hissed among the trees, questioning.

Artemis' arm suddenly rippled with shining scales. They gleamed and reflected the light of both Lanterns, raced along her skin -- and within a moment were gone again, though she could still feel a slightly itchy, almost metallic sensation, like an invisible chainmail.

"You hold in your hand the Dragon's defenses." The Lord of Shadow spoke behind Artemis, but all there was to see was the illusion of his silhouette at the edge of the light, standing among the dead. "Invincibility. Immortality." There was a grinning hiss in his silky voice. "As frightening as the Dragon is, without this she is as mortal as a lamb."

He paced around the campsite, slowly. The spirits parted quickly, flickering, to let him pass.

"The dead will do your bidding," he continued, while the Dragon roared again in the distance. "As will the darkness, and the cold. I have asked that the Lady of Stone respond to your call, should you require her."

The dead hummed and whispered again, a haunting sound among the dark trees.

"The Dragon herself is not as fearsome as she seems; she has a psychic power, she will attempt to get into your head, convince you of your errors, turn you against your own reasoning. She has the power of illusion; she can make you see what she wants you to see. Keep your mind clear and cold, strike through. Your greater threat will be her champion -- one like yourself, who wields the blessing of Water and the sword of light. Her will has been known to reach farther than her hand -- ensure she does not get close to the Lanterns."

He stopped, and he faced her. "What, then, will you do?"

[Assistant]
Anise closed her eyes as she listened to the Lady of Stone's response. So she had become just as twisted as the Lord of Shadow. She had been prepared for such a tragedy, so this reaction did not upset her too much. However, now the stakes just got greater. Again, the Lady of Stone had another opportunity to kill her and once again the Lady simply gloated at her. She could not understand why that was the case. The Lord of Shadow and the Lady of Stone had all of this power and the both of them barely even tried to stop her. Their apparent inaction perplexed her.

Anise had no need for a champion. She was the champion of her own cause. Somehow, they did. Curiosity did peak in regards to who it could be. She had met a few people from sun-touched lands like herself at this point. It could be any number of them.

She heard Peck digging away with a shovel above her, and she looked up as soon as a beam of moonlight peeked through a freshly made hole. Bits of dirt fell to the ground before her. She could hear him shouting, but the roar of the Dragon drowned out his voice. The sword flared every time the Dragon roared, and Anise watched it as it flashed each time.

Could this sword be the Sun? It would make sense for the Lady of Light to be the one to secure the Sun. Maybe once she had been slain the Lady of Stone created that casket to seal her away and hide the sun with her. The only way she could know is if she presented the sword to the Dragon, and she had planned to approach the Dragon anyways now that she had Light and Water. A purification of light and water was needed to cleanse the corruption that the Lord of Shadow had allowed to settle on the Dragon's bones.

Anise then looked at the moonlight. Light. Could she use it to travel? She connected herself with the beam of light and focused on the space above her where more light touched. She imagined herself being carried by the light until she stood right next to Peck.


[System]
Species: Human werewolf.
Age: 23.
Gender: Female.
Personality: Ashley is fairly mellow. She's not overly happy, nor is she overly sad or cynical. She walks the middle of the road and would be found refilling the glass for another round than trying to figure out if it's half empty or half full. Ashley is lazy to a point, and generally does things to her own time over taking care of everything at once.

Appearance: Ashley is of average height since she stands at five feet five inches. Ashley's skin is close to copy paper in color due to her extended presence in clubs or bars. Ashley's hair is cut quite short and is black in color. Ashley's eyes are a dark green in color and are thankfully free of any fashion contacts or other oddities. Ashley's eyebrows are rough, but not excessive, and match her hair. Ashley's face is overall free of blemishes, which Ashley is immensely thankful for.

Ashley's body is fairly well rounded. Her upper and lower body is well developed and fit. She's not boasting bulging muscles or a six pack, but she's more than qualified for extended physical activity. Ashley doesn't have much in the way of marks on the rest of her body either, which she is again more than thankful for. Ashley's nails are trimmed down, and have also been painted black to fit with her overall punk look. Ashley's most prominent feature is actually a prominent bust, which she gets annoyingly frequent comments about.

Ashley's wardrobe fits well with her punk theme. Ashley wears a plain black T-shirt along with a light black cloth jacket. Ashley also wears a pair of black jeans. Beneath these jeans Ashley wears a pair of knee length nylon stockings and a pair of calf length black leather boots.

Ashley also wears a pair of fingerless leather gloves. These gloves have small metal studs over each knuckle, though they're obviously not weaponized. However, that doesn't prevent them from hurting a little more than usual should someone suffer a blow from Ashley. Ashley also wears a black one piece kneeskin swimsuit in place of traditional undergarments, since some more unruly members of the audience would sometimes find themselves throwing their drinks at the stage, leaving Ashley and her band members varying degrees of wet from time to time. The swimsuit helped prevent people from seeing more than they needed to.

When transformed, Ashley loses most of her outfit. Thankfully, her swimsuit is stretchy enough to handle the transformation with ease while still keeping everything covered. Her wolf form stands at six feet and five inches, making her taller than most men. Ashley's transformed body is coated with a fine layer of muscle. Not excessive like a bodybuilder, but slim and practical while still being easy to notice. Her legs are digitigrade, which makes her more agile and allows her to run faster at the cost of not being able to operate certain machinery due to her height and how her legs are shaped. Ashley's body is roughly the same shape aside, though everything is scaled up to fit her new size. Ashley's head is that of a wolf in this form, and her hair grows slightly to fit better. Ashley's fur is stormy grey in color with the underside of her torso having a lighter grey. Finally, while transformed, Ashley has a small lightning bolt on the top of her snout.

Powers: Lightning/electricity generation and control: Ashley is capable of generating and controlling electricity and lightning. This is primarily represented in bolts thrown from her fingertips, though she can also charge the studs in her gloves with electricity to make her punches hurt more.

Transformation: Ashley is a werewolf, and is capable of transforming into a werewolf form when enough adrenaline enters into her bloodstream, though this costs her most of her wardrobe for a while. While transformed, Ashley still has access to her lightning abilities, and can now charge her claws with lightning. As a bonus, she's also able to charge her fists with lightning, making her punches devastating.

Strengths: Immune to electric shock. Heals quickly. Physical prowess is enhanced in werewolf form.

Weaknesses: Water shuts down her electric powers due to the fact that she would shock herself if she used them. Skin contact with metal also shuts down her powers, and nearby metal will attract electricity. Silver burns her while she is transformed.

Background: Ashley grew up singing cover songs in bars and nightclubs in order to get by after a crummy early life. Her looks drew a crowd, her voice kept them there. However, this lifestyle turned out to be rather unsustainable. Forced to contemplate her future, Ashley walked to a nearby park to think things over. While she was walking around the trees, it started to rain. In her rush to get home, Ashley was struck by lightning. She passed out, and merely moments later a rogue werewolf tracked her smell. He giggled to himself that nature had cooked him a meal, and sank his teeth into Ashley's shoulder.

The werewolf went flying as ten thousand volts flew into his system. The bite healed shortly after, and Ashley got up and went home with a massive headache. This was three years ago, and her life has been different ever since.

Misc. Notes: None.

[User]
Boxcar nudged Nora's leg and whined with his best convincing puppy dog eyes look. Nora, with no defenses against such a technique, found herself putting together a plate of the fajita mix minus wrap and set it down for him to eat, which he did greedily. Nothing in it that'll hurt him, thought Nora as she reviewed the ingredients in her mind. And it'll keep him quiet - him talking seemed to throw this girl off very badly, and I'm not sure how well she can take the shock of that again.

Ashley's report startled Nora visibly, and she had to adjust her glasses from where they had become unbalanced on her nose. "A...secret door in the basement? Nobody told me about that! Justin didn't mention it during the tour, so he must not have known about it, and I don't know if Cybertronics knows about it either." It seemed hard to believe that her company had inspected the lodge and not found this secret door, yet Boxcar had found it within the first few hours of the lodge's first day of operation. Still, Boxcar had senses that the robots and normal people who inspected the location didn't have.

Nora was distracted briefly by the arrival of Lady Jane, and then by Jaiden after her. With his arrival, that completed her expected roster of guests for the lodge, and that also meant everyone was here for lunch. This was remarkably satisfying for Nora, as a checklist was mentally completed in her head. It was also mildly terrifying, since it meant she now had no real schedule to follow. Theoretically, she was here to observe and offer opportunities for allowing the lodgers to test their abilities far from civilization, in the safety of the lodge's environs and the surrounding terrain. Realistically, she hadn't done anything quite like this before, where there wasn't a rigidly-defined plan or schedule of events. She was on her own.

As the lunch progressed, however, she went over what she remembered about the lodge from the meeting with her superiors. The lodge's previous owner had bought several crates of machine parts from Cybertronics Unlimited, as well as building materials from several other companies, but through what must have been an oversight, Cybertronics had been the only company left unpaid. Her briefing hadn't told her who the previous owner was - her superiors were very careful, she remembered, not to give any details, citing that they couldn't tell her due to privacy concerns - but there was enough information between the lines that even Nora could tell the owner had been some kind of criminal, and that the lodge had been built with far more materials than the building they had just toured couldn't reasonably have contained.

This led her to the conclusion that it would be in their best interests to explore the hidden passage themselves. Nora was already in enough trouble with her superiors as it was, which was why she was out here to begin with, and if she asked for help so soon after getting to the lodge, it might cost her any chance of salvaging her job. And, at least for now, this was where she would be living, along with all of these other people, so it was in everyone's best interest to know what lay beneath the lodge. This, combined with sitting through a lunch with the lodgers and finding that nothing went wrong, gave her the confidence she needed to formulate an idea.

Toward the end of lunch, as everyone was eating the last of the fajitas, Nora stood up at the head of the table and addressed the group. "Thank you all for coming here - I'm Nora Minder, effectively the property manager for the lodge as appointed by Cybertronics Unlimited, who invited you here. Some of you have already introduced yourselves to each other, but we're all new to each other, and my hope is that, while you are here at the lodge, we'll all become friends in time."

Nora adjusted her glasses, a motion that nudged some of her blonde bangs away from her blue eyes as she surveyed the group. "It's come to my attention that the lodge has a secret basement door. Justin Hobbes, our handyman-on-call, did not seem to know about this, and neither did the company, though according to what I've been told, this property was collected by Cybertronics as payment by the previous owner who may have had ulterior motives for building this lodge out here in the middle of nowhere. Since we will be living here together for the foreseeable future, I want to propose we do an exploration of this secret underground passageway, so we'll know what we're sitting on top of and don't have any nasty surprises later."

"Of course, this could be very dangerous, and I have no idea what might be down there, which is why I'm not asking any of you to go down there unless you are willing to do so. I will be going, as it is my responsibility to ensure your safety. I wouldn't mind company, though, and would welcome anyone who wants to come along with."

Truth be told, she was kind of excited. What kind of secrets did this strangely-built and located lodge hold? What was under the lodge that required a secret door to hide? And how had her company overlooked something like this? She waited for the response from the others, knowing full well that she might have to go on her own if no one else volunteered.

[Assistant]
Sam had to choke back an incendiary retort, which she cleverly concealed with the guise of having swallowed wrong. This lady was out of her mind if she thought Sam would be so quick to risk life and limb for a group of perfect strangers. Her addled mind had been given enough time to at least put together the components of a rational argument against such a foolish use of her time and talents; after all, she had ended up here as a result of pursuit by enemies unknown, and there was absolutely no guarantee they did not already have forces on the planet searching for her. She needed to rest and heal, and repair her craft so that she could continue her escape.

"Yeah, about that..." She reminded herself that, without the necessary materials and equipment, it was likely that fighter would never lift off again. As it was, she couldn't guarantee it would return to 100% capacity, even with their assistance. Her memory replayed Nora's comment about the several crates worth of materials and machine tools purchased by the previous owner of the property, and a surge of adrenaline distributed its prickly warmth through her chest.

"Goddammit..." she sighed. She put down her fork and lifted her eyes surreptitiously to study Nora's expression. Was she serious about those supplies, or just lying to coerce the cooperation of her new team? What about the others? She scanned them all in turn as she finished off her glass of water. None of them seemed too worried about their situation, and she could not detect any signs that any one of them had existing knowledge of the subject before Nora mentioned it.

This was the part where Sam was meant to feign interest in the expedition, then leverage her participation against Nora's willingness to part with some of that priceless scrap. But...they did not know her yet. Reluctant acceptance wouldn't have the desired impact on their trust. She had to give them something to lose before she threatened to take it away.

"Can't do anything today," she ventured, rubbing the back of her head gingerly. "I feel a little better, but I still can't concentrate. I better stay here."

"Perfect," she smirked internally. "No promises, no guarantees, no liability."