[System]
Definitely not Atalanta from F/GO
Pretend that the bird in the background is an owl, because Olas would get sad if you call him an eagle.
Weapon: Bow and Arrows
Combat Orientation: Balanced

Element:
Primary:
Given by GM. Your character will have significantly higher resistance to these elements, and the aptitude to learn spell/ skills of these elements
Wind - The ever-changing and ever-shifting element. Whilst most other elements are rather generalist, this element is specialized for characters with a focus on speed. Has many utility and attack skill and spell.

Secondary:

Darkness - Having an all-consuming property, it can absorb and/or negate other's skills and defenses. Though it has many utility spells and skills, there are not many that involves direct attacking.
Nature - The ever-steady and ever-reliable element. Whilst most other elements are rather generalist, this element is specialized for characters with a focus on defense. Has many defensive, healing, and support skill and spell.

Skills:
Innate:
- Weapon Summon: The ability to materialize your weapon of choice at will
- Superior Dexterity: Your character starts with increased accuracy and skill with weapon handling, and has higher aptitude in increasing this stats
- Superior Strength: Your character starts with increased muscle power, and has higher aptitude in increasing this stats
- Blessing of the Forest King: When outside of battle, the energy "Olas of the Forest" exudes will repair the damages done to your physical body. Greater wounds take longer to heal, but anything short of missing limbs and/or organs should heal given enough time.

 Tier 1:
- Superior Agility: Your character starts with increased flexibility and maneuverability, and has higher aptitude in increasing this stats
- Target Definition: Once Gael spots a target, she is able to track it through obstacles such as darkness, magic barriers or invisibility. They are represented as sillouttes with white lines to track their movement since they were last seen. Wears off if Gael does not continue to track their movements.

[User]
The Seeker reluctantly followed the skeletal being. He who was their enemy. Their efforts to escape the darkness had been replaced with the desire to kill the darkness, this darkness took the form of some sort of astral skeletal being. Unfortunately for the seeker the being was much more powerful than they had imagined. With a quick turn of events, the seeker was lead to a grand place where the skeletal being sat with another seemingly deific being, they knew within their heart just who these two beings were. He felt as if he knew who they were but he struggled to come up with a specific name for them, he lingered in his thoughts. Releasing his focus on what was happening around him and dived into his mind. It was the first time he had a moment to think about things and for some reason his mind kept coming back to a name.

This name, 'his name, had not just appeared. It appeared moments after trying to save someone, but everything was moving so fast...nothing like his time in the abyss. In the abyss, events happened but he could never discern the order in which they happened but in this world of light things happened one at a time and then they moved on. How am I supposed to register all of this? he stood looking at the two in the gazebo. Let's go over what happened...His mind spoke clear to him while the sounds around him drowned into a muffled roar.

I was in the darkness. I tried to save someone. I am in the light. My name, I know, is Zeyruun. I attacked-.

He thought process was cut short as it wanted to linger on that last thought. He didnt want to think of anything else at the moment.

Zeyruun...

Zeyruun had a body. It had grown around him, cocooning him in its embrace. He didn't feel like he had time to dwell on his transcendence at that moment, at the time he needed to kill darkness. However, he remembers the event vividly. Bones sprouted out from his being, muscles and sinew latched onto the bones seconds later. Skin encased the new body in its entirety, a dark tan colour. His body felt tall, he felt this was especially true when standing in the beautiful garden with the other abyss dweller whom he tried saving. His body had no hair on the head, but it had hair over his chest...no, it wasn't hair and it wasn't coming from his chest. It was on his chest. A shirt, another peice of clothing hanging on his legs aswell.

It was all very weird and surreal what was happening before him. To his left Zeyruun could see the other one, the one like him, coming into a body of his own, likely he came into a name aswell. He spared a glance at him, Zeyruun felt something towards this one, understanding? Relief? Fellowship? It was hard to fully grasp how he felt but at the very least he didnt feel bad. Zeyruun felt he must have looked the same way as the being beside him when he himself came into his body, surprise and confused followed by an overwhelming sense of familiarity and comfort.

Zeyruun forced himself out of his thoughts and moved to the gazebo a step or two behind the other one. Something told Zeyruun to wait and listen, the other one seemed to speak freely and naturally, but Zeyruun didn't know what to say. He just stood there solid in posture, waiting for the two deific beings to explain things to him.

[Assistant]
Channeling my energy into the shadow-bound being worked; I felt an answering hum vibrate throughout my body. Memories of a story, part of my former knowledge began playing out in my head. It was thrilling at first; finally, I was recovering what should be mine. This was part of what I have forgotten, and it felt right to have it returned to me. However, I was not used to such an overwhelming assault of information, and soon I was screaming, clutching at my head, violently shuddering.

It was as if I were experiencing several vivid dreams – painful nightmares? – all at once, the only reprieve the possibility of falling unconscious. However, I did not faint; the barrage of visions did not allow me to do so and nor did I truly wish to miss this. I gritted my teeth against the pain, enduring. Even when my own flames engulfed me, from within and without, I weathered the agony.

"Oh, this…is," I muttered. I recognized that what I had seen was my world. It was where I belonged. The pain and the flames abated, and I fell to the floor, breath laboured. The air had never tasted sweeter, though the sweat clung to me, uncomfortably sticky. Wait, sweat? I queried myself. Was I not a being of shadow, unaffected by such mundane concerns?

I looked down at myself, and saw the surprising changes. I was not made of darkness, after all. Perhaps I should have realized how odd it was to possess such a distinctly material staff while I myself was such a vague existence. Robes adorned my body, and I blinked at the curved chest and hip area. Female, I recalled. The little glimpse of flesh I saw wrapped around my palms was mocha with an undertone of gray, and somehow, I knew that so was the rest of me. I patted my face, my mouth, my sharp teeth, the short black hair upon my head, and the pair of horns curling forward from it.

"Alnaera! I am Alnaera!" I exclaimed, exhilarated. This was my name. My name. I couldn't have suppressed the beaming smile even had I wanted to.

When I turned to the creature I had released, fires were raging, tall and wide. Within it were piles of unburning scriptures. I identified the entity in front of me as one of the Pillars. It spoke to me, introducing itself, and I nodded in response. "Yes," I stated, unhesitatingly. I did not truly know whether I had mastery over such a being as this, but why refuse its offer? "Who are you to me, then? A servant? A follower? An assistant or an informant?" I queried it in return.

[User]
The nobody's mystery woman seemed shocked at the greeting, even asked if they were not afraid, which... sure made them regret not hightailing it first chance they got. 'Maybe the smile didn't work,' they thought. Said thought stuck for a second. The nobody hadn't stopped to take a moment to ponder it themselves, but... they didn't even know what they looked like. If they even had a face to smile with.

What... what was the nobody?

"Well, I guess it's refreshing to meet someone who does not have a meltdown over a simple 'hello'," were the words to snap the nobody back to reality, or whatever was meant to pass for it. Seems like not bolting was the right choice after all.

'Oh yeah, smooth sailing now,' they briefly thought to themselves as they watched the lady wave her hand. Maybe not knowing the reality of your existence isn't so bad if you can hang out with a total babe like-

Lisami.

It hurt. That name hurt so much. The pain assaulted the nobody as suddenly as it was mentioned, their 'body' freezing stiff for a moment. From an outsider's perspective, nothing too gruesome was happening. However, what it felt like was different. Not only did the pain of memories flooding into the nobody's- no, their name was Cythril. The memories contained it. Cythril's mind. Lisami. Cythril. Goddess. Balance. EndingsOmegaworldVoidfoxspiritpreservethecreationof

Bones snapped into place, the back shot out three different ways, limbs were growing and coiling around themselves, hair shooting out like needles. No screaming. There wasn't a voice left to scream with as their lungs choked on themselves. Ran out of air to breathe outwards. Out of noise to make. Blood started to circulate aggressively through the veins of this newfound body, feeling the heat it lacked finally land through a burning sensation akin to fire and brimstone.

It subsided.

The result of this hellish experience was a man, lying down in the grass. He barely had the time to ponder the ticklish feelings of the moist blades rubbing against his skin. He pushed himself up, looking down at his hands. Unlike before, he could see them with clarity. Not just the hands, but the white sleeves lazily hanging down below them too. Wind brushed against his face, blowing through his hair. A few strands of blurry gray waved themselves in front of his eyes. That breeze did more than just that, though. It brushed against his ears, perched on top of the head rather than to the side. Tickled the fuzz inside. Ruffled the hairs around the back. The last thing of note was the tail swaying gently side-to-side.

That's right. This was his body.

The goddess asked for his name.

"Ah... of course, my name is Cythril, milady."

He stood there, blinking for a brief moment. Then Cythril remembered who she was. He quickly bowed down after that. "D-d'oh, err, I ah, I apologise for my rudeness, I erm, uh, your humble servant is at, d'ah, your service?"

[Assistant]
It was finally time.

My mind raged against its confines to leave this cold place. My body was my own and I could feel the power coursing through me. A fragment of who I once was, was meant to be perhaps? I didn't really care about the distinction.

"Let us fight with tooth and nail then, Val." With the flick of my wrist and an expression of my newfound power I summoned my dagger to my hand. Gazing upon my sole weapon I couldn't help but wonder whose blood they would taste together. "What horrors we must face I'm ready."


[System]
Friendship Gem Tracker:
Stargaze, the Orphan (played by @Guardian Angel Haruki): ♦♦
Skobeloff, the Trickster (played by @rush99999):
♦♦
Fellwing, the Seer (played by @Vertigo): ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Shieldwing, the Warrior (played by @Digizel): ♦ ♦ ♦

---

NPCs:
Pronouns: He/him

Species: Dragon

Age: Bearded Dragon

House: House Tessith

Colour: Royal yellow

Moons: Stone, Liberty

Looks:
- Large curled horns
- Thick scales
- Icy blue eyes with slit pupils
- Long, wrinkled snout with crocodile-like teeth
- Bat-like wings, each tipped with an extra 'claw'
- Clubbed tail
- Bulky body

Description: Soon to be named an Elder dragon and take his place on the Council, Garrock is simultaneously smug about the superiority his age grants him and mournful of his lost youth. He was once a member of a pilgrimage clutch of decent repute called the Dawnfire Clutch, but while the rest of his comrades moved on to form new clutches, Garrock chose to remain solo and has prided himself on his self-sufficiency ever since. He dislikes relying on others to solve his problems, especially those younger than himself, and has been known to have a particularly sharp and cruel tongue when forced to interact with clutches of drakes.

Name: Fogdance

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Dragon

Age: Bearded Dragon

House: House Tessith

Colour: Silver

Moons: Spirit, Stone

Looks:
- Hornless, has two small fins on the side of her head
- Pale grey scales speckled with darker greys
- Large, indigo eyes that always appear somewhat teary
- Short, rounded snout, resembling a sea turtle
- Large wings that form a crescent-moon shape when spread out

Description: While Garrock may state that House Tessith's tenets encourage independence and self-reliance, there are many dragons within the House of Diamond who interpret 'living simply' as being more community-focused. Fogdance is one such dragon; nurturing by nature, she is one of the teachers and caregivers for Tessith's drakes, and has been recognized even by the mentors of House Semscale for her patience and diligence. However, beneath her gentle exterior, there is something frail and somber within the older dragon that many glimpse, but very few truly understand. After all, how can someone surrounded by so much love be so sad?

Name: Alpin

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Brownie

Age: Young Adult

Looks:
- Scrawny, with very thin, pointed features
- Covered in wiry ginger hair
- Outfits often include a hat and a scarf, and favour muted greens and browns colourwise

Description: Alpin is seen as something of the village idiot among the brownies of his island: lovable and ultimately harmless, yes, but with very little sense between his ears. How true this opinion is and how aware Alpin is of his fellow brownie's judgements is up in the air, as while he seems pretty oblivious most of the time, there are moments where he demonstrates a keen perceptiveness and an understanding of things deeper than his peers.

Name: Bartley

Pronouns: They/them

Species: Brownie

Age: Elderly

Looks:
- Chubby
- Beady eyes and large, drooping ears
- Covered in brown hair that is fading to grey
- Wears tiny, half-moon spectacles
- Has a fondness for old shirts and trousers, with very little variation

Description: An older brownie with a love for tinkering and crafting, Bartley prefers the company of one or two friends at a time as opposed to large groups, and likes to keep their hands busy with a project even while in conversation. They have a very short, blunt manner of speaking that can some time come off as rude to those unfamiliar with them, but in truth, Bartley is just shy and not always sure how to best express themselves.

Name: Tamba

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Dragon

Age: Rawscale Drake

House: House Myndoth

Colour: Pastel green

Moons: All

Looks:
- Antler-like horns
- Soft, pastel green scales with splashes of orange and yellow
- Large purple eyes
- Feather tipped wings and tail
- Chubby, rounded body
- Wears round spectacles

Description: For a drake so young, Tamba is considered extremely well-read. She's rarely found outside of Myndoth's libraries, and is capable to memorizing reciting whole passages from the books she studied. However, when it comes to socializing, she's far less adept, and tends to either talk far too much or far too little with no in-between.

Name: Pleexem

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Dragon

Age: Rawscale Drake

House: House Tessith

Colour: Lilac

Moons: All

Looks:
- Gazelle-like horns
- Soft lilac scales with pastel green splotches
- Large bluish-green eyes
- Feather tipped wings and tail

Description: Tamba's twin and current clutchmate, Pleexem makes his sister look like a daredevil by comparison. He's afraid of pretty much everything and everyone, save for Tamba and some older dragons in House Tessith, and is rarely seen without his sister by his side.

Name: Echo

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Elemental (mixed: wood, water and earth)

Age: Unknown

Looks:
- Humanoid torso
- Translucent greenish-brown skin with bioluminescent gold freckles
- Long bluish-green hair resembling leaves of a willow tree
- Eel tail in place of legs

Description: Echo is a very enigmatic being, even by the standards of elementals. She's implied to much older and more powerful than she appears, and like the dryads who tend to the dragons' hatchery, may have access to knowledge beyond. This knowledge is probably why she chose to take care of Stargaze after the drake's egg somehow found its way into her case, and also why she eventually drove the drake away.

Name: Kyte

Pronouns: They/them

Species: Dragon

Age: Winged Drake

House: House Semscale

Colour: Peach

Moons: Liberty, Spirit, Storm, Void

Looks:
- Hornless, with 'winged' ears
- Pale orange scales that fade to pink, like the sky at dawn
- Round, hawk-like golden eyes
- Long, bird-like legs ending in sharp talons
- Small bumps above nose and down their back
- Very thin

Description: Originally belonging to a different pilgrimage clutch, circumstances have lead to Kyte being placed with the younger Tamba and Pleexem. As such, they've taken on an 'older sibling' roll to their new clutchmates, not as a leader but in that they're willing to do whatever it takes to keep their friends safe, even if it puts themself at risk.

[User]
At Stargaze's squeak, the creatures paused in their approach, several of them blinking rapidly while others glanced at their neighbours with an expression resembling confusion. This hesitation gave Fellwing a moment to get a better look at them, and she notices that beneath their rodent-like features, they actually have very fairy-like faces, albeit bloated and distorted. Some of them are also wearing clothes, or at least the ragged remains of clothing.

Her mind flashes back briefly to her vision earlier that day, of Alpin and Bartley, of their conversation about how the other brownies had been acting strangely, of the dark green patches of skin on Bartley's face as they snarled and shouted at their friend. She even notices now that one of these creatures bears a striking similarity Bartley, even wearing the same shirt and shoes they had in her earlier vision. The dots slowly start to connect: these creatures are, or were, brownies, and whatever's happening to the island has horribly affected them, turning them into these feral beings.

This revelation is unsettling, but also good as identifying them allows Fellwing to start going through all the facts she knows about brownies, hoping that something might give an idea about how best to deal with them: first of all, she knows that brownies, like all fairy creatures, are weak to iron. Merely touching it burns their skin, and getting cut even slightly with an iron weapon can lead to horrible injuries or even death. Of course, in their current environment, there are no readily available iron tools or weapons, nor is Fellwing familiar enough with this area to be able to locate any natural iron deposits.

Secondly, and specifically, brownies are notoriously hardworking, particularly when it comes to domestic chores or farm work. If there is a job that needs doing - be it a messy room or the starts of meal - a brownie will often be compelled to do it with very little prompting required. Some dragons, particularly those of Houses Semscale and Myndoth, will hire them to help with the upkeep of their strongholds, and paying them mostly in food, particularly bowls of milk or cream which are their favourite. While they may seem easily pleased, they are also renowned to be easily offended. Upsetting a brownie is generally a bad idea, as they can range from elaborate revenge pranks, to flying into a rage and breaking everything in sight, to simply disappearing without notice and never gracing you with your presence again. The Darkness has likely taking advantage of these severe tantrums to turn them into the vicious creatures the group sees before them. However, this flighty behaviour can also work in the other direction, for as easy as they are to anger, their attention spans can also make them quick to forget. Surely, even in their current state, there should be a way to distract them.

With all this in mind, what will Fellwing and the others do?

---

Skobeloff continues his journey unhindered, as it is far easier to find the path without the pixie's constant meddling. However, that same unnatural stillness remains, even seeming heavier than before now that Skobeloff scared off the only other living being besides himself.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to put up with this for long as he soon reaches the hollowed-out tree that forms the old Tessith stronghold. Upon close inspection, it's easy for Skobeloff to see why House Myndoth are eager to claim the building for themselves as it shows a lot of the natural yet mystical aesthetic they favour in their architecture. It will need some expanding and refurbishing, of course, as Tessith buildings tend towards minimalism. Tessith dragons prefer to sleep beneath the stars if the weather allows it, so their strongholds focus on providing shelter from the harsher elements and storing the bear essentials. This may work for the House of Diamond, but not for Myndoth. No, Myndoth will at very least require a decent-sized library to store their centuries worth of knowledge, as well as an observatory for observing and charting the movements of the movements of the stars and moons. They'll likely not want to stop there, either. If the presence of fairy creatures, the strange sand and the presence of a mixed elemental like Echo were any indication, this island was a gold mine of magical resources.

Magical resources that probably won't last long if the Darkness remains here.

Focusing on the front of building, Skobeloff can see that the door is shut and there are no signs of movement within the windows. The same quietness that followed him through the forest is no less present here, and if not for Fellwing's vision, it would easy to assume that there is no one home. What will Skobeloff do now?

[Assistant]
Skobeloff

Knowing that he was about to face the Darkness alone, Skobeloff decided to try and appeal for aid from on high. After taking a brief moment to prepare himself, Skobeloff reached out to the moons above. More specifically, Skobeloff reached out to the Storm Moon and called out an incantation in a mystical tongue known only to dragons. "Meyz fin ven!" These words roughly translated into the common tongue as 'to become the wind'. Skobeloff's intened to use the Storm Moon's connection to the elements to become one with the air, transforming himself into a gust of wind to pass through the halls of the stronghold without fear of being seen or struck by any foul creature that lurked within. All while still being able to carry the gem sand and the pixie dust with him using his breezy form to hold them aloft in the air...

Unfortunately for Skobeloff, the Storm Moon was not feeling very cooperative at that moment.

Skobeloff calls upon the power of the Storm Moon to turn himself into a gust of wind... Snake Eyes.


[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]
Reus snorted and flicked an ear, glaring stubbornly at Anise -- but he finally sat on the shore with an irritable huff. Anise would once again get the feeling that he highly objected to having his mind probed by the lantern, but this time he allowed her just enough access to assure her of Morly's trustworthiness. The young kith perpetually traversed the length of the river; Reus had never seen him on shore. Morly transported supplies and passengers for Kith and Pirate alike, declaring the river to be a neutral zone, and so was left on his own.

Morly pushed away from the shore with his stick. "As long as we're on the river we're safe. Everybody knows that. But once we cross the witch's barrier at the lake, she'll come running. We just gotta be quick. I'm the quickest, though."

As the raft began to float downstream, Reus stood and began to follow along on the shore. He lowered his head and flicked an ear, peering across at Anise, and willingly communicated with the Lantern.

The last time the wolf had seen the witch, she had been leading Simon away from the red Lantern where the boy had first appeared. Reus would have liked to blame Simon for the witch's disappearance, but his investigations had proven differently.

The witch was gone, as far as he knew. Arin -- the murderer whose corpse had provided the blue lantern to Anise's possession now -- had maliciously destroyed the source of the witch's power and protection. The witch, unknowing, had led Simon into her house -- and then the wild trees had broken into the house and snatched both Simon and the witch away into the forest. Reus had searched for her -- but had found Anise, Randold and Hania instead.

But Simon was here, alive. Perhaps the witch was alive somewhere, too.

The raft was picking up speed, and Reus broke into a trot to keep up.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" Morly called over the sound of the rushing water. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

---

"Hm?" Sir Neary hummed as he scooted along the branch, knife in-hand. "Oh yes, my lady, I certainly know a thing or two about these ticking trees! They were created by the first artificers, centuries ago, in order to keep the dragon eggs in a weakened state. The clockwork enchantments suck power from the egg continuously, so it may do no more harm." He paused, huffing, and wiped his brow with a gauntleted hand. "The eggs must be kept trapped and separate, or risk the end of this world as we know it. This tree is a very important prison." He put the knife to the glimmering thread that held the lantern.

"But the situation has changed." He sawed at the thread. His voice had changed to an airy hiss. "There's an alternative plan."

The thread snapped and the lantern plummeted.

The tree clanged and clattered, broken with a metallic clamor inside the hollow trunk.

In the same instant, the glowing metal floor dropped out from under Artemis, and she -- with the Lantern glowing steadily red -- fell into the gaping cool abyss below.

As she fell, the form of Sir Neary vanished. In his place was a dark shadow with hollow gray eyes, watching her fall.

Artemis would hear the rushing rapids before she splashed into cold foamy water. The rapids whisked her away down a sloping dark passage, twisting and turning and dropping, and the Lantern tumbled after her.

The speed of the water slowed by degrees, and Artemis dropped, finally, into deep water.

When she raised her head to the surface, she would draw a breath of fresh night air. She had ended up in a narrow river that cut through the forest. Stars glimmered overhead.

There were voices approaching, and a bright blue light that moved along the water toward her.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" a child's voice said in the distance. There were at least two people aboard a raft, coming closer. It would pass her by within a few moments. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

The red Lantern lay on the river floor, beneath Artemis.

[Assistant]
Anise nodded as Morly explained how the river was safe, but the sound of witch was a bit unnerving. "That's good the river's safe. How long should it take for us to get there? How quick will the witch take to come?"

She felt a bit of a rush as soon as the boat started to pick up speed. There was no way that they were far from their destination. This left her feeling eager to return the Lady of the Pond to her home and get to her next objective: the remaining lanterns. She knew there was one at the pirate ship, and if she made it there safely then she could get right to work on returning the forest to its natural state.

Anise opened mouth and then closed it to think a bit. So they were called gryphons? Like the fairy tale monsters? "Do you know any way to calm them and maybe keep them from hurting my and my friends?" She felt she could actually calm them down with the help of the Spirit Egg, but she wanted to have another option available just in case that wouldn't work. "I don't want to have to fight them if I can help it."

She the suddenly thought up an idea as the Lantern passed her thoughts. She concentrated on the egg within the lantern itself and tried to make contact with it. Hello, I'm Anise Sinclair, Princess of Riverforde. I want to help bring the forest back into its proper balance, and there are going to be gryphons in my near future. Can you help me? If the lantern held an egg within it that meant she was carrying a living thing, and this egg seemed to be beyond normal conventions. Thus she thought perhaps she could communicate with it on some level.


[System]
Age: 42
Gender: Male

Personality: He likes to treat the office interns as his personal coffee jockeys. He's the type of boss that would refer to the company as being "like a family". And by "like a family", he means that he will cut your ass out of the will.

Appearance: A stocky man with a penchant for tweed suits, and hair styles perfectly to hide his receding hairline.

[User]
Not exactly human? Evie echoed in her mind. Then what is he? Upon arriving at the dungeon and hearing his words, she nodded in reply although wondering what he meant by it. A squeak of fright escaped her as the chest moved, she herself moving to the corner Lars had pointed to. She nodded again, her heart pounding inside her chest.

What the hell is going on here? She thought, getting her phone camera ready to record whatever was going to happen here. At least she was going to get some answers.

[Assistant]
They waited in the dimly lit room for what felt like an eternity. Whatever was in the chest would shake and growl every now and then. Finally, the heavy door creaked open again. The man that walked in was...underwhelming. His frame was small, and he was buried under the old, black wool coat he wore. His face was tucked into a scarf, hiding the lower portion. He walked into the room slowly, cautiously.

His eyes immediately found Evie. They were every bit as dark and wild as the photo. He froze, seeming to contemplate running.

"It's fine," Lars said, seeing their guest freeze. "She's fine. Let's just get on with it."

Lucas's head whipped around to glare at the priest. He nodded and moved towards the chest. Lars approached the chest too, his keys jingling once more. He began unlocking the numerous, heavy locks. When the last one finally fell, the lid flew open. Long, spidery tendrils shot out. Lars barely managed to avoid getting snatched by one. He backed away until his back hit the cold, stone wall. Lucas, on the other hand, held his ground.

The screeching roar emitted from the chest was not from this world, and neither was the monster seemingly trying to climb out of it. The many arms and tentacles searched for something to grab as a roundish body pulled itself up towards the room. That chest was apparently a lot bigger on the inside than it appeared.

Lucas took a few steps towards the beast, and it actually withdrew from him. The man began to emit light from seemingly nowhere, and the tentacles within the vicinity of him caught fire. When Lucas reached the chest, he shot his hands out and touched the monster. It wailed a horrible cry of pain as it's body caught fire and burned to ash. Soon, the entire thing was gone, and the room was eerily silent.

[User]
Evie found her breath catching in her throat as Lucas stared at her, reaching deep into her soul. He looked frightened, surprised even to find her there. She watched the two carefully, still unsure as to what was happening exactly. A startled cry choked as she remembered not to make a sound; but she wanted to scream in terror at whatever was crawling out of the chest.

She watched in awe as light appeared from Lucas before he finally ended the monstrosity. It wasn't until the silence ran on for an eternity she realized she didn't record any of it. How could she? Everyone would debunk it as a hoax or CGI. "What...what was that thing?" She asked, finally finding her voice.

[Assistant]
"A demon," Lars answered grimly, peeling himself off of the wall. "One that's overtaken a host. They're rare, but they've been getting increasingly more common with every day."

Lucas was already slinking out of the room. He was definitely not very sociable.

"Demons that possess people, like they did to Mrs. Reynolds's son, can't overtake the human form on their own. They need help. And that's the most disturbing part: someone is creating these things. Taking people off of the street, and forcing demons inside of them." Lars seemed very heated about this topic. This was clearly a very personal fight to him.

[User]
"A demon? As in from hell demon?" Evie asked, terrified. This couldn't be real and yet...she did witness it all. "But why? Why force demons inside of people? Especially those on the streets, they haven't done anything." She pointed out before noticing Lucas was gone. "Hey! Wait!" She exclaimed, heading out of the room to follow him.

"Wait, I want to talk to you!" She called out.

[Assistant]
Lars nodded, confirming that this demon was, in fact, from hell. "We have theories on who's doing it and why, but nothing we can prove. How do you explain this," He motioned to the chest, "To the authorities?"

He watched her chase after Lucas, and gave a short chuckle. "Good luck. He's long gone." He walked over to the door. "He's not very friendly."

[User]
Evie sighed softly as questioning Lucas ran cold before glancing over at Lars. "How long have you two been doing this?" She inquired, no longer in the dark about the horrible truth. Demons were real, able to possess people and even now forced into them. All of it felt like a bad dream.

"What about Partway? What happened to him?"

[Assistant]
"A few years," Lars said as he began leading her back to the world above ground. "Isaac was the one who brought this one in. Him and Lucas. He doesn't typically come to these things; he mostly handles the exorcisms with Lucas."

When they were back in the church, Lars locked the door of the basement once more. "I was unfortunate enough to be introduced to this stuff when I was young. If everyone knew the truth, we'd have a shot at stopping the people doing this."

[User]
"You keep it hidden because it would cause mass hysteria and a witch hunt." Evie realized, looking at him. "If everyone in New York knew, they'd either panic or go looking for danger. No matter what, the people causing this win, especially if there's people on the hunt to stop them."

She sighed softly, running her hands over her hair. "I don't know what I'm going to tell Joe about this. He'll either believe me or fire me on the spot. Either way, I know some of the truth now."

[Assistant]
"I, for one, believe this is a story that needs to be told," Lars said. "The people behind this thrive on secrecy; shoving them into the public would cause panic, yes, but ultimately, they would finally be destroyed." One could get the feeling that Lars was very much a 'for the greater good' kind of guy.

He looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "You just witness a real, live demon being destroyed, and you're worried about your boss?" He said, assuming that was who she was talking about. He gave a soft chuckle. Lars led her back through the graveyard, but stopped short when they reached the gate. "I can't go any further. Have a good rest of your night." He saw her off and headed back inside.

On her car, tucked under the windshield wiper, was a folded piece of paper. Upon further inspection, it had writing on the inside. Scrolled in a very elegant cursive:

[User]
Evie looked at him, clearly he'd never met Joe before. She sighed softly as she followed him back out of the church and through the graveyard. "If you think telling this story and shedding light on the ones who are doing this is the right thing, then I'll make sure it gets out. Josh's death wasn't Lucas' fault. I'm sure he tried everything to make sure that poor boy wouldn't get hurt." She said before bidding him goodnight and heading to her car.

She blinked upon reading the note, looking around for whoever could have left it. No one else was around unless...but why would Lucas tell her to leave it alone? Especially with lives in danger? She glanced at the note again before getting into the car and heading home.

Once home, Evie showered and changed before looking back over her evidence, the mystery note now added to it all. She listened again to the tapes before giving up on trying to understand the garbled voice. With a yawn she headed to bed and was soon out cold.

[Assistant]
"What the hell were you thinking, Lars?!" Upon finding out about the witness to their demon killing last night, Isaac had driven up to the church to berate Lars. The priest was standing in the middle of his modest living quarters: a former classroom in an older section of the church turned into a studio apartment. It was neat, clean, and very plain. The furniture was mix-matched, leading one to believe that most of it was donated from different people. Plants lined the window sill, which sunlight was shining through. Isaac Partway had invited himself in while Lars was having toast and coffee for breakfast.

"People deserve to know the kind of danger their in," Lars said, "You wouldn't act, so I did."

"Lucas has been working his ass off, the last thing he needs if the media harassing him!"

"He's a grown man. He can handle himself."

"You're such a-" Isaac cut himself off before he went too far insulting one of the few allies he had. He was red in the face, his fists clenched.

"You should get in touch with that woman. If she gets exclusive rights to the story, you won't have to worry about the media. I'm sure she won't mind keeping your address and private lives our of the lime light."

Isaac gritted his teeth, and forced himself to breath slowly. "When this blows up in our faces, you are cleaning it up," He said, pointing an accusing finger at the priest.

---

Her cellphone rang. The number was unknown. When she answered it, an unfamiliar man's voice spoke to her. "We need to talk," Isaac said.

[User]
The night had been restless for Evie as her mind wondered replaying everything over. The voice on the tapes, the fact demons were real, seeing one in the flesh getting exorcised, and Lucas. His eyes kept appearing in her dreams, eyes which didn't belong to any time whatsoever. Eyes which saw only hatred and fear towards the face of their owner. Eyes so full of mistrust towards outsiders like her.

She jolted awake when her phone rang, grabbing it as her eyes glanced at the number. Strange, perhaps someone calling her by mistake. "Hello?" Her voice croaked out as she rubbed her eyes. The voice she didn't recognize at all; a little gruff, serious, and a little older than Lars. It couldn't have been Lucas, he apparently never said anything. "I'm sorry, who is this?"

[Assistant]
"This is Isaac Partway. Meet me at the cafe on the corner of Waterford and Oak street at 2." With that, he hung up. It seemed, like his business partner, Isaac wasn't particularly sociable. Or, maybe it was just because he was pissed at having his hand forced. Whatever the reason for the curt phone call, when 2 o'clock rolled around, Mr. Partway was sat in his car, idling by the curb.

He was watching people walking towards the door of the cafe, looking for someone fitting Evie's description. When he saw her, he rolled down the window and hollered. "Evie! Over here." He leaned over to unlatch and throw open the passenger door of the car. This screamed 'stranger danger' everywhere. But, having already gone down into a literal dungeon with a strange man, an immortal, and an actual demon, why start being cautious now?

[User]
Issac Partway? Cafe at two? Evie's mind finally processed what was said before realizing he hung up before she could inquire anything else. She blinked as she stared at her phone before shaking her head. Ever since she agreed to this story things had gotten strange. But maybe that's what she needed, a little strangeness.

Evie looked around as two drew closer, unsure of what Isaac looked like. Upon hearing her name and seeing the car she was a little hesitant but overcame it. She had dealt with dangerous things so why stop there? "Mr. Partway?" She asked after she sat down.

[Assistant]
"In the flesh," Isaac said, almost begrudgingly. He began to drive. "I heard about what Lars showed you, and I don't particularly agree with his reasoning. However," He paused. "Seeing as the cat's out of the bag now, I guess we may as well do some damage control." He was heading out of the city and into an older suburb.

"If you're going to report on this, then I want to ensure that the privacy of everyone involved is maintained. I don't want to see my house on the 5 o'clock news. Or the church, for that matter." The houses in this neighborhood were a little on the run down side. The one they pulled into the driveway of was no different. It's lawn was mowed and neat, but the paint was peeling and the driveway was black with mildew.

Isaac stepped out of the car. "More importantly, while I may agree to this, there is one other person you have to convince." His keys jangled as he unlocked the front door. "Lucas is incredibly stubborn, and I have no intention of arguing with him." The house was quaint enough inside. It was fairly organized, if not terribly outdated. He walked her down a wood paneled hallway, and stopped at what looked like a, you guessed it, basement door.

"I won't agree to any interviews or documentaries until Lucas agrees as well. I told him you'd be stopping by to pay him a visit. Good luck." He opened the basement door and motioned towards the steps. Down below the stairwell led into a hall, which then lead into a large, open basement room. It was dimly lit by a single light bulb. Soft music was wafting from down below, from the unmistakable sound of a record player. The song was Louis Armstrong's La Vie En Rose. The tonal difference between the sweet song and the stark, concrete walls was baffling.

Isaac didn't come down with her. When she descended, it was only her and Lucas to sort out their differences. Lucas's dwelling consisted of the cement floored room with no windows. He had a twin bed pushed against one wall, the basement bathroom in all of it's green tiled glory, and several mismatched tables and odds and ends furniture here and there. It such a strange living space.

Lucas sat in a swivel chair, which he spun in to face the woman as she came down. He tugged his scarf up to further cover his face, and didn't make eye contact. It was very clear that he didn't enjoy his safe space being invaded. The record player, sitting on a table with a couple of books, popped and crackled softly as the music played.


[System]
Age:  It's complicated.

Gender:  As Cis male as an Angel can be

Main or sand: Main

Personality: Lucifer has a complex relationship with many things, especially himself and his family. While he presents as extremely confident and full of himself, deep down Luci still hates himself. His personality may come off as rather uncaring, but still manages to show how he does care in some of the oddest of ways. Lucifer is able to gain connections all over from his charm and angelic nature. Passing out favors is how he ties so many to him out of need to repay the debt one day, cashing the debt in whenever he so chooses. A deal with the devil is often depicted as him stealing your soul, not your liquor. Lucifer has a strict policy on not lying, though will often leave out parts of the truth. To him it's not lying if you haven't said anything false, and he is very strict on his policy to never lie to anyone. Ask him just about anything and he will answer in some kind of truth.

Equipment:  Lucifer never carries anything on his person. With his invulnerability to anything not demonic or holy he has no need to be armed. Just his fists and the flask he has stored away in his suit is all Luci has ever needed.

Attributes: Lucifer holds an immunity to everything non holy or demonic, it also gives him a major strength boost that acts in a similar way. He has bent metal, thrown a man through a window with a single push, guarded against an onslaught of bullets with just his wings, and survived being passed out in the American desert. Lucis strength has given him the upper hand in many situations, and is regarded as one of the strongest siblings. While he doesnt have any fancy powers, he makes due with his fighting knowledge. Lucifer's wings give him the ability to travel between dimensions, using them to get between earth and hell. On top of that his time spent in hell has given him an immunity to fire that he often flaunts off. To top off all his abilities Lucifer has the power to draw out desires, often using it in cases to help get a lead. Looking directly into someone's eyes allows him to pull at the deeper wants within, not many able to resist the pull. Aside from desires, any hints of his more devilish side has drawn people into fear and paranoia. Once he had drove a man into complete insanity with the mere look at his devil face. Some appeared to be almost immune to the paranoia effect, though almost everyone seems to react in even the slightest bit of fear.

Bio: Lucifer was cast down from heaven after leading a rebellion against God that ultimately failed. Being banned from ever going back to heaven, he spent his time going between earth and hell to have his fun. After having enough of ruling hell, he abandons his throne to go live a life running LUX. Though this ultimately doesn't work out in any way that he hoped.

Other:  Lucifer has shown knowledge and connections with others in the multiverse, but apparently doesn't care enough if faced with the end of everything. He much rather spend his time not worrying about something he can't help with. Though when he does care about something he can get very angry.

[User]
Voss and Sanford's CS
Voss' Location:
Undetermined

Voss' Mood:
Craving Violence

Voss' Status:
Scratched up, but otherwise healthy

Voss' Inventory:
Curved Saber
A pair of Jakobs pistols

Voss' Mentions:
[@teapartybs]@Thatguyinastore@Kagebaka@cadesmith@SomeMekBoy@TheRealMonaMona@ClownTown
Sanford's Location:
Undetermined

Sanford's Mood:
Oblivious

Sanford's Status:
Scratched up, but otherwise healthy

Sanford's Inventory:
A Meathook

Sanford's Mentions:
@Attesa@darkred

---

"Who am I?" Sanford finally turned to face Grey and, subsequently, Thomas. His constant chuckling and overall attitude so far came off as very jock-ish to the two. It's a wonder how the grunt could be so enthusiastic when he visibly has these wounds across his face and body that drip black tar. He pouts.

"I'm Sanford, A.A.H.W. butcherer extraordinaire! That's a fancy way of saying 'mercenary.' If you need someone like me to snuff a life out for ya and you got the cash, I'm the man! Aheha!"

For emphasis, he withdrew his signature meathook and grabbed it by the wire to spin the hook around like a fan. He rotated toward Thomas while still spinning the bloodstained weapon.

"Director of a spy agency? Doc would love you."

---

Voss started to cringe heavily as Fret didn't let off on the questioning. If he could, without risking to experience what happened to the guy with the bat, he'd shut Fret up the only way he knew how: with good ol' violence! Like grabbing him and shaking him like a newborn baby! Of course, threats could work just fine, but Voss had a feeling Fret was so dense they'd fly over his head. Thankfully for the hateful captain, he never really got a chance to answer, as Fret instead focused his attention on the answer Tosai got, and then discarded the curious nature entirely. Voss swiped his brow in relief.

"Phew! Aye, the pirate life, it's… uh… pretty cool I guess…" He almost brought that last part to a whisper before immediately returning it to his normal boisterous volume. He caught a glance of a blur flying across his peripheral and began to look around for where it came from. Voss rotated and stopped and rotated again in place several times in confusion, until eventually spotting Fret speaking to Negan in an angry, naive manner. Voss mindlessly followed Fret, now taking the role as the curious one. What exactly happened here?

"Ey ey, let's settle down, aye? Who threw huat? Who said huat? Gimme the juicy details!"

[Assistant]
Red Riding Hood

Mood - Overjoyed
Status - Healthy
Interactions/Mentions - @Midle1998

---

Upon hearing the Captain's surprised gasp, Red laughed a little before she was suddenly surprised by being lifted up in his arms, that once maintained smile being poisoned with panic - albeit panic that quickly passed. "Yeah, that's right - I'm here alright! You ain't getting rid of me this time!" She laughed a little more before being shook and held close and tightly - something she briefly reciprocated... before being put down and having her hair messed up. Of all the times her hood fell down, it 'had' to be while she was running to him, huh? "Well, I didn't intend to be in a glass cage today, but I woke up and here I am. But hey! Seeing as I'm here, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity if we're not gonna get it for another long time!" With a bright smile up to him, she raised a closed fist up to him as she stared at him from such an angle. It may not have been a planned reunion, but no job is gonna separate them this time!

...Right?

[User]
---

The scuffle involving the rat seemed to end well, with the rat unharmed and their clothing being repaired by some...mystic Force stone or some made-up stuff like that. However, the beast responsible had disappeared into the crowd of people within the cage. Whether beast or girl, Maisha doubted it would be easy to hunt her down with so many people in the way. She might an issue in the future, but Maisha didn't have the means to take care of her now without catching anyone else with his literal field of fire.

The Mandalorian put out of his mind the thought as he scanned the room. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just trying to get a lay of the land. The Galaxy was a big place and he got to see a lot of it in his occupation, but these people were beyond strange to him. Plenty of them were human or near human, but their clothes, weapons, and armor didn't resemble anything he'd seen before. It was dizzying to look at and process.

One particular figure stood out and alarmed even Maisha. If the hideously burned pale face lacking eyelids wasn't enough to scare everyone else away  the knife embedded into their skull without any seeming ill effect certainly did. No one was helping the kid, and it was quite understandable. Maisha would be put off by a man who survived being stabbed in the important part of their body. However, not knowing the circumstances, he abided by his own personal code as an Arbintz.

Approaching this strange man, Maisha procured a bacta patch from his belt with one hand and kept his other hand ready to defend himself at a moment's notice. This was true for most people he met, but especially for such an off putting character.

"You okay with that kal in your head? I have a bacta patch. I highly recommend that you take it for your wound."

---

Location: Some Glass Cage

Physical Condition: Mild Concussion

Mental Condition: Cautious, Offput

Mentions/Interactions:

(Head Knife Boy need help?)

[Assistant]
---

Yoshikage Kira

As Lucifer went on, Yoshikage Kira listened attentively, although his body language did not betray it. He gazed over at the One-Winged Angel and his gaggle of fools with a resigned, almost whimsical expression, eyelids hanging half-closed to demonstrate his disinterest. If the Devil himself claimed to fear the white-haired man, then Kira was of no mind to disagree, but his was a set of skills tailored to work in tandem with the attribute that he had built all his life on. If the whims of fate willed it and the two parties came to blows, Yoshikage Kira could very well die in the fray, of course. But he had in his possession a power unlike any that the One-Winged Angel or the Devil himself did, from the look of things. More than any companion, Kira could always turn to his fortune. If necessary, that was all he needed to rely on, for better or for worse.

A quiet smile crept onto his face for but the blink of an eye. No matter the odds, luck would always side with Yoshikage Kira.

"Of course," Kira began, accompanying the words with a resigned shrug. "Their battles are theirs alone, I would say. Just as your battles are yours to fight, and mine in turn. Although..." Kira swept his eyes along the One-Winged Angel's blade, mildly surprised at his capacity to keep it upright despite its frankly gratuitous size. "If I were to fight, I doubt I would lose to anyone."

As the conversation flowed further, Kira flowed with it, listening quietly and doing his best to keep the racket of the mewling reprobates on the other side of the cage out of his ears. No walk in the park, of course, but the measure of a man was the trail of adversity he left behind him, and Yoshikage Kira's trail was certainly long enough by its lonesome. He had overcome every obstacle set before him, and did not intend to stop on the account of another, no matter how grand he thought himself.

"Of course not," Kira agreed. "Although, I'm afraid I'm not a believer. I suppose I should change my ways, now that I've been offered proof?" Then, Kira hesitated, for just a moment. "No, I believe it's too late for my soul to be saved now. It's no matter - I never held the Lord in high esteem to begin with."

Almost on instinct, Kira's fists tightened, one balling tightly in his blazer pocket. "If there is one thing Yoshikage Kira is not, it is useless. I'll play along with our little game, for the moment. If nothing else, it stands to be entertaining. All of these fools in one place, who knows the destruction they could cause with nary an eyelid batted? Surely, our cause must be important if it's worth taking such a gratuitous risk..."


[System]
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Dark black hair, Pale face, Pearly white eyes(Blind), 5ft 11in,
Beast: Rat
First Weapon Type: Necro and Healing cards
School:Necromancy
Day 1:
Period 3: Dragon Speak
Period 4: Sparring
Day 2:
Period 5: True Sight
Day 3:
Period 2: Potions/Alchemy
Period 4: Magic duelling
Period 5: Protection
Personality: Very morbid outlook, Finds death humourous, Gentle, Soft-spoken, Kind, Want to help others
History: Born in Marleybone to unknown parents, Wolf Ironheart has been an orphan ever since he became four and was later raised by the Rattans of the city. He found his magic powers when one day, as he was sitting and listening to the sounds of the sewer, he hear the spirits of those who have passed away there. He eventually was able to navigate perfectly by "seeing" the spirits around him. One day, after stealing from Malastare Drake, he was admitted to Ravenwood as Death Student and also studied Life under Malistare's wife's kind eyes. When she had died and Malistare tried to recruit students to rebel against Ravenwood, Wolf refused and asked to be transferred.

[User]
"Magic." Bobby says as the shadow guy shut the door. "Convenient, huh? He didn't even have to reach down to get that. Welp, better tell them that this," he waves his hand at the door, "You know, this nonsense won't be stopping anytime soon. See ya' round maybe."

With that he gave Ruby a wave and ambled back the way he came, leaving her alone in the hall.

[Assistant]
~Ruby~

. Ruby looked around as she suddenly found herself to be alone. After she lit her cigarette she took one big sip and placed her free arm in her pocket, when she heard her key jingling. Its time to meet her room. She walked through the long corridor with the high roof and the candles on each side, that gave some light to the old building. After a while she found her door with the number 202 on it. She placed the key in the keyhole and turned it to the left.
 She was amazed by the beauty of her room, it fitted precicely her tastes. Old fashioned, with wooden surfaces and floor and a wonderful wooden bookcase. She soon noticed the open window. She got curious at first, and then cautious. Looking around, she looked for the intruder, soon to realise a black cat behind the bed. Ruby got closer, and stroked her head.
"Where did you come from? You must be someone's, you're too clean to be a stray cat." She lifted the cat and sat on the bed, having the cat on her legs, she kept stroking her, and sang her a song, quietly.

[User] Slieb the shapeshifter sat contently on the lap of the girl. She decided to stay in the role of a cat to prevent any problems. If the girl puts her down she will leave but for now she is more than content. She purrs quietly.

[Assistant]
~Ruby~

Ruby felt very tired. she soon rested her back on the bed ,still stroking the cat, untill se eventually fell asleep. It was a peacefull sleep, with no nightmares nor dream intruders. She had left the window open though, and the cold breeze didn't fail to chill her skin.

[User]
Slieb hearing her asleep carefully exited from her grip and jumped out the window running along the ornate window sills getting back to her open dorm window where he changed into a human form and he closed the window then laid down in bed for the night. Silently purring in his sleep, a side effect of him being in cat form for too long.

(Cue everybody starting to fall asleep/be in there dorms. If you don't go soon I will assume you are there and continue to the next day.)

[Assistant]
The school fell into a quiet as people started to sleep. Sighing in relief of the numbers that had arrived the Headteacher laid down in bed and closed his eyes, the world falling away.

MORNING

Some people wake up early, others lay in but for all the students it would be an exciting day. The day where they pick which type of magic they would like to dabble their hands in. When the students wake up they will find their door locked and in front of it a table with a piece of paper and a pen on it. On the paper there was each school that teaches in the school next to a tickbox above a description of the schools which also contains an essence of the energy of the school to give a deeper feel of it. When they tick a box the paper, pen and table will disappear and the door will unlock.

[User]
Savannah rubbed her eyes and laid in her half way made bed for a little while before deciding to get up. As she looked around the room, everything seemed normal; well at least as normal as it could be. Then she gazed upon the table randomly placed in front of her door in confusion. Did she put that there to prevent people from possibly breaking in? No, she is too trusting for that. As her tired eyes fell upon the paper, she saw boxes to check.
 "Boxes. Always boxes to check," she muttered with annoyance.
Her being the only smart individual in her high school class, she had gotten used to checking boxes no one else had to check. Between financial aid for college, extracurricular activities and scholarships, she had checked enough boxes to put the post office delivery to shame. As she looked at her options, she saw her school. Diviner. This school had always piqued her interest and she was so glad she had gotten accepted. As she checked the box she belonged in, the table, pen and paper disappeared and she heard the tumblers turn and the click of the lock as her door slowly opened. She had not gotten dressed yet so she closed it with satisfaction knowing that she would soon open it again and walk out towards her new school.

[Assistant]
Bobby slowly opened his eyes as his body went through its morning boot-up process. For a moment he didn't know where he was, but that was all right. He never really did. He sat up in his small bed and looked around the room, the memory of yesterday seeping into his mind.

Magic School, it reminded him. He reached over onto the little side table and picked up the key he'd gotten after the initial tour and looking at it. That thing had done exactly what the professor something-or-other had said it would do. It brought him here. To this room. He'd really tested it last night, going on a long walk about while waiting for that one guy to quit yelling. A real wander like when he was a little kid. This key though? It brought him right back to this room. If he had this he would never be lost. If everyone had this no one would ever be lost.

Magic had lead him back here.

Magic had lead him to a good school like his parent dreamed for him.

Magic. Convenient.

He got up and tucked the key into his pocket before the new thing in the room caught his attention. He looked down the list of options on the table, one in particular catching his eye. Myth. Power of imagination and all that. Power of the mind. A class about remembering things? How much better would it be, he thought, if he could better remember things. If this class going to force that he may as well take it.

School was about getting better at things, wasn't it?

He checked the box and suddenly, where there had been a desk and everything, there wasn't anymore. He looked down at his hand as the tumbled in the doors lock, disappointed. "I don't get to keep the pen?" he asked aloud. Then he shrugged and stepped outside.

[User]
~Ruby and Adam~

Ruby was asleep on her bed, at the position she was when she layed with the cat. She found her body cold when she woke up, as the window was still open. She opened her eyes slowly and and blinked two or three times. She normally would curl her body under the blanket, but the excitement of the new place wouldn't let her.
 She stood up and closed the window, rubbing her arms as she made her way to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and tied her hair with a beautiful burgund red long ribbon. Heading to the door she stumbled on the small table with the pen and the paper on. After reading all the titles, stumbling on some for she liked many, she ticked the elementals field. Before she would change her mind the new things vanished before her, and the door knob turned to the right, as a clinging sound echoed.

 Adam woke up while it was too early. Before opening his eyes he reached his hand out to find his cigarettes. As his hand travelled on the bedsheets it stumbled on something else. He opened his eyes instictively just to find the same wooden table with the pen and paper. He looked at it briefly and then took a cigarette that he put in his mouth, and lit it right after. Taking a big sip first, and letting the smoke come out in rings right after, he gave himself a minute to wake up and breath in all the nicotin that his body was lacking during his night sleep. He then proceeded in reading the paper. He needn't much time though. He quickly ticked the "Adept" box and just like it happened with everyone else, the table vanished, along with the piece of paper and pen. Adam wore his pants and put on his shirt, without bothering to button it and he went off, to find some breakfast or something.
 Getting out of the door he saw Ruby walking by.
"Morning sunshine." He said in a rather moody tone with a raspy voice since he had just woke up, and hugged her playfully.
"Your bare chest is not the first thing people would like to see when they wake up." Ruby said and hugged him back. "Where to?"
Adam scratched his head and took another sip of his cigarette. "I don't know. The Zoo?"
Ruby punched him on the arm playfully. "How about some breakfast?"
"Breakfast it is then!" He added with a pinch of joy. "So, it's guessing time Ruby girl. Adept? Life Mage?"
Ruby smirked. "Elementals. You should know that."
He snapped his fingers and grinned. "Damn! You got me."
She gave him a little smile, still looking forward. "Adept, Beast Speaker."
"That's called cheating. You should've been an oracle or something."

[Assistant]
The first a foremost thing on Bobby's mind as he wandered out of the dorm area was breakfast, and whether or not he would be able to find it. Or pay for it. On the first day it had been complimentary but maybe that was just a first day deal. He had a couple hundred dollar of spending money in his wallet, an allowance in case of emergencies, but magic food would be more expensive wouldn't it? Or would it be less? They'd taken the pen back, so maybe this place was run by cheapskates.

As he took a step out of the dorm complex his attention was torn away from his hunger situation to a cloak hanging in midair, a light breeze rustling the fabric. That reminded him: he didn't have any other clothes. Everything was still packed in his suitcase back at the hotel. He stopped to think about this as the garment floated there. Maybe he could have mom and dad send it over? He could call on his cell, but he didn't want to waste the minutes or power on something that wasn't urgent. He looked back at the cloak. "Do you know where I could find a phone?"

Suddenly information flooded into his mind, pushing past the conscious and into the subconscious. He knew now, on some deep instinctual level, where he was expected to be right now and most expedient way to get there. It felt weird, like when he's been drawn here in the first. He shook his head to get the weirdness off. "Professor Smith. Thanks."

With a wave to the cloak he set off to meet his teacher and, mayhap, find a land line.

[User]
PERIOD 1 STARTS!
The professors who had been preparing since early in the morning finished any last minute arrangements for their new students. Some had sent their older students to study whilst others had kept them in to help them.
The new students started arriving...

[Assistant]
There was a lot of people moving around. A lot of people moving around with purpose? He wondered why they'd decided to come here. Follow the direction in their heads to come to this place. There were more than a few that looked super foreign, who must have had come an awfully long way. It seemed strange, to him, for any ordinary person to travel so far for a feeling in your head.

He'd done it too of course, but he'd follow the directions of any random sign, pointed arrow, or interesting rock formation. They didn't have an excuse.

It was while thinking on this that he stumbled upon where he needed to be.

[User] As the boy (@Gentlemanvaultboy) walks up to the school he will find about 39 others joining him. All of them approaching the same bright orange building that looked like a medieval castle with gargoyle statues lining the roof, writing flowing around the stone and two minotaur statues either side of the entrance. Yet they seemed more real than statues. Almost as if they were breathing. When the first student got within 5 steps of the building the foors opened revealing a brightly lit corridor leading to 'Grand Hall' sort of area with individual desks either side of the main table and a man with a rather long nose and disdainful look apon his face ar the far end sitting behind a desk in Yellow robes.

[Assistant]
Bobby, by dint of having nothing better to do this morning than set out, was among the first to approach the large orange building. He was possibly also the only one that didn't stop, or hesitate just a bit, when the door began to open. After all, automatic doors were just convenient. They had those at the supermarket, why wouldn't they be at a fancy place like this? For whatever reason, the boy who was usually last to arrive at anything was the one leading the pack.

His immediate concern once he entered was weather or not there was assigned seating. He looked around the room to see whether there were little cards with names on the desks like they'd done in elementary school. Seeing none, and thus having no direction whatsoever, he went to find a desk on the right side because that was closest.

[User] professor sniffed with approval of the boys seating. After all in his classroom it was boys on the right and girls on the left. Everyone should know that in his opinion. If one sat on the wrong side he was tempted to leave them there and count them as that gender but decided against it. Instead a massive cyclops would a appear out of nowhere and carry the pupil to the right side. The school year hadnt REALLY started for them this year (next day it does) but he wanted them to learn quickly. Hed sent Demetrius away to study some books of names for the day. He sat there in silence analysing the class with a certain look of disgust on his face.

[Assistant] "Get away! Stop Whispering at me!" I yell, swinging my walking staff around at what can only be described as ghosts or spirits.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Race: Miqo'te, Keeper of the Moon
Birthplace: Central Shroud
Marital Status: Bonded with Rhaq'a Zhwan
Height: 5 fulms, 5 ilms
Class: Conjurer

**Personality**
Rhy is very outgoing, enjoying the company of others most of the time. She exudes cheerfulness, friendliness, and is a habitual flirt with most anyone she meets. Although very social, she does enjoy her alone downtime, mostly spent in the company of the massive pile of books in her home. Rhy is generally very easy-going, and very open to new experiences. She is a fiercely loyal friend; get in her world and you have a friend for life that will go out of her way to make you happy. Conversely, she tends to give an intense cold shoulder to those that get on her bad side, holding grudges just a little too long. By default, she tends to trust new people. While she seems to have a fairly large circle of friends and acquaintances, very few are in her inner circle that she trusts implicitly. These include her direct family and her bonded mate.

Description
Rhy is tall for a Miqo'te female, with a decent amount of curvature on her form. Her reddish-brown hair frames her rounded face, most of the time pulled behind her head in a quick, sloppy braid. A pair of glasses are ever-present before her bright blue eyes, as she ruined her eyesight at a young age by reading by candlelight for years at night; as a result, she is nearly blind without them. Her face has minimal markings, save for a noticeable scar on her left cheek from a childhood accident. She is likely found wherever there is gil to be made using the healing arts, or at her home buried in a book.

Background
Raised with her extended family in the Central Shroud, Rhy was raised by her mother, aunts, and grandmothers. At the onset of puberty, she began working towards a goal while making herself available to the breeders that occasionally came to visit her home. She chose the life of a conjurer, learning the basics of healing in nearby Gridania. She gave birth to her first child. Hari, at 19. After suffering a miscarriage at 22, she decided that she wanted something more from life than children and basic healing.
She found herself in Ul'dah, where she learned the healing powers of herb and medicine along with conjuring. She learned much about how to use the natural world to heal ills and hurts. She set herself to bringing this knowledge to where it could do the most good; war-ravaged towns and villages. She spent several years traveling, always returning home for several months at a time. It was at one of these visits that a visiting breeder from the Zhwan clan caught her eye. Rhaq'a Zhwan interested her more than anyone she had ever met, and she pursued him. She eventually convinced him to bond with her.
Now 30, Rhy spends her time traveling to where she is most needed, and spreading her knowledge of natural healing arts. She also feels her biological clock ticking, and has been after her bonded mate for children. She is currently with her second child, her first with Rhaq'a.

[User]
Rhy tapped her chin with her fist thoughtfully, pondering the question. To give herself time, she took another sip. "Well… Aside from a steady supply of medicine for several towns along the frontlines with Garlemald, something fun. Maybe something that we could enjoy together; I've been looking all over for activities that we could do as a couple."

She picked up her mug once more, her ice-blue eyes staring at him over the rim, thoughts swirling behind them. Rhaq'a's own ideas were merely the tip of the iceberg.

[Assistant]
Her response wasn't out of the blue, but still somewhat confusing. "Something to do together...?" He wasn't sure they sold anything like that. "Do you speak of some manner of boardgame? I heard Doman Majong is quite popular, and I'm certain they would have a set?"

He continued to drink for a minute or so before finishing, placing his cup down with a smile.

[User]
Rhy choked on her tea, sputtering for a moment, her hands waving around in front of her face as she choked, then burst out laughing. When she regained control of herself, she got up, walked over to Rhaq'a, and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his head, she shook her head, "You sweet summer child."

After petting him for a few moments, she returned to her seat, wiping up some of the spit-out tea from the table. "I'm certain that we will find something to enjoy." She smirked, her own tea finished. She waggled her brows in the direction of the shop, "Shall we then?"

[Assistant]
Her laugh made his heart sink, as did her words. If she were not pregnant, he would have fled, and fast. Instead he gulped. "E-Er... ah. Are you... certain you do not wish to learn mahjong? We could learn together..."

Gulping, he stood slowly. "Sure...?"

[User]
Taking his hand in her own, she started leading him towards the trading post. She chuckled, "Perhaps we can start off with mahjong." As they drew nearer to the post, she gave his hand a squeeze.

She looked around at the building. The closer they got, the more closed it looked. Her face fell slightly. She walked through the yard, looking at the scattered junk everywhere. "Goodness, they do seem to have a little bit of everything here, don't they?" She looked back at Rhaq'a, smiling sweetly.

[Assistant]
A sigh of relief escaped his lips upon seeing the store was closed. He knew she'd want to come back, but he escaped, or rather delayed his fate for at least a day. "So it would seem..."

The junk they had was certainly interesting, and it was likely they had what he needed, too. "We could come back at a later time?"

[User]
Setting down the box she had been fondling, she nodded, "Perhaps tomorrow it will be open. We will definitely be back!" She turned her gaze to her mate, "For now, though, perhaps back to the inn? I'd like to lie down for a spell before our reservation." She winked, "I need to be in tip-top shape, after all."

She strode back to him, patting his cheek gently. She then took his hand, intertwined their fingers, and shot him a smile.

[Assistant]
Of course they'd be back. A small smile crossed his lips, "Y-Yes, of course." Slightly concerned he tried his best to ignore the situation. It was probably for the best, unfortunately. Looking up at his mate, he smiled, "Yes, you need rest. As do I..." The stress of whatever she was planning was getting to him, "R-Right, reservation..." And back to being terrified.

Smiling back at her, he took her hand happily. Though the pat on his cheek only indicated that his suspicions were correct.

[User]
Making a mental note of the location of the traders, she happily guided her mate back towards the docks. She paused at the entrance, frowning slightly at the boat bobbing gently in the water. Oh dear, this again… she thought to herself as she watched the waves lap at its hull. She bit her lip, stepping carefully down the steps towards the ferry.

Settling into a seat next to Rhaq'a, she leaned her head over onto its spot on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. She wrapped an arm around his, hugging it lightly against her chest. She'd love to look up to see if he was blushing or uncomfortable with the public affection, but that would involve opening her eyes. She smiled, just assuming that he was flustered.

[Assistant] He was nearly always flustered. So her guess was accurate, at least this time. Holding her close, he spoke softly. Mostly hoping no one would hear. "How are you feeling?" Gently petting her hair, he did his best not to mess up her braid, then moving his fingers to her ears. He gently scratched behind them. "We don't have to make the reservation if you're not feeling well..." Biting his lip, he secretly hoped that perhaps she'd be more in the mood to sleep or cuddle than.... whatever it was she had planned for the evening.

[User]
A gentle groan met his question as she nuzzled the crook of his neck, enjoying the pets. "Mmmmm… Only a little queasy…" She cooed once more, nuzzling deeper, trying to ignore the gentle swaying of the ferry. She gave his arm a squeeze, "Oh no, we'll make it… I promise, it's very relaxing. Or, well, it can be~"

A small smile spread on her lips as she imagined their evening. She was definitely looking forward to it; it always made her feel better after a long day. And doubly so when she could drag Rhaq'a along into her fun times.

[Assistant]
"Well.. a little is better than a lot I suppose." He smiled, half-heartedly. "R-Relaxing..." He tensed once more. "Can be...? W-What are you ..." He sulked. Well, he tried to get out of it. And failed, miserably. The only other choice was to try to get her to forget.

"If it'll make you happy, but... if you wouldn't mind..." He frowned, "...being conservative. I... it would be appreciated." Gently kissing her head, he scratched her ears some more before sighing.

[User]
Her smile spread, hearing his voice; she was getting to him. Excellent! "Of course, dearest, whatever you like." She yawned, giving his arm another squeeze, "I do promise that even you will find it enjoyable and relaxing. I'm not cruel, after all."

She gave a few groans as her long ears were scratched, enjoying the attention. Trying her best not to nod off, she snuggled comfortably into Rhaq'a, love oozing from her.

[Assistant]
He wasn't sure about either comment--be it the enjoyment or the cruelty. She was not cruel, no, but their ideas of a good time differed significantly. He sulked ears flattening against his head. "N-No, I suppose you aren't."

Unlike her, he was actively trying to put her to sleep. Snuggling her close, he continued to do what he knew made her purr. The only thing he'd have to do now is talk about alchemical properties, and she would be out, for sure...

[User]
Rhaq'a might not even need to get as far as his latest tome on alchemics; Rhy was slowly losing her fight to stay awake. Between the gentle petting, water lapping sounds, and her own overall exhaustion, she was finding it harder… And harder…

She continued to snuggle her mate, although with her mouth slightly open now, occasional light snores coming from her. He'd gotten his wish. An occasional smile twitched at her lips, or she'd give his arm a squeeze as she dreamed.

[Assistant]
Closing his eyes, he relaxed as his mate fell asleep, holding her as they made the journey back to Kugane...

Once there, he attempted to pick her up. Perhaps if he didn't rouse her, they'd accidentally miss their reservation.... he could only home.

[User]
For her part, Rhy was dozing happily, dreaming sweet dreams. Fortunately for her, Rhaq'a was quite gentle when it came to carrying her. Years fo practice had helped him know just where to hold her to not wake her up.

Unfortunately for him, her internal clock worked quite well and roused her anyway as they neared the inn they were staying at. As they drew near, she continued to pretend to be asleep, nuzzling into his shoulder as Rhaq'a princess carried her into their room.

[Assistant]
Gently setting his love down upon the inn's bed, he began to take off his clothing, move to grab some more comfortable smallclothes. He hoped to simply sleep, and forget about whatever she had planned. It was sinister, and he knew it.

He was a bit peckish, but starving for an evening was still a preferable alternative. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he pulled the blankets back and over himself and Rhy...

[User]
…only to have Rhy roll over and wrap her arms around him. She had been eagerly watching as he stripped, a smile forming on her lips. She clamped her eyes back shut when he came closer, going back to 'sleeping'. Once the blanket came over them, she sprang to life. She'd found it best to catch him unawares; it gave him less of a chance to escape or make up an excuse to leave.

As she held him in place, she kissed up his neck and head to his ear, whispering, "Good thing I woke up. Wouldn't want to miss our appointment." Patting his leg, she continued, "You'll need your bathing suit, by the by. Don't forget it. Or do. Either way works for me~" She blew gently on his ear for a moment, giving it a small peck before rolling out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer in the dresser for her own swimsuit.

[Assistant]
Flushing, he felt his heart sink into his stomach as a distinct feeling of dread and existential crisis took hold. Curling into the fetal position he let out a groan, laying there, before leaving the bed. "...It would appear you win, this time." Sulking, he moved to find his swim suit. When she got like this, she wouldn't take no for an answer...

"Whatever it is you're planning, don't think I'll cooperate so easily." He sighed. He probably would. And that was the problem. With the bathing suit on, he pulled a small wrap around it, trying to at least conserve some small amount of dignity.


[System]
Age: 400+
Race: Vampire
Faction: Darkworld

Appearance: A wiry whipcord of a man, with gaunt cheeks and high cheekbones. Perhaps most noticeable are the large saucers of blue-grey, like the sea after a storm, that gaze out from underneath thick, black, expressive eyebrows. Incredibly fine wrinkles and creases dance upon his face, by his lips, brow, and eyes. They make any guess at age difficult, but hint of haunting smiles, the ghosts of anger, and the resting place of sorrow. Unlike his dark brows and goatee, the straggled mop upon his head is straw, and reaches down at his shoulders with teasing stalks and locks.

Personality: A selfish, yet easy-going romantic searching for a muse to displace his growing existential and epistemological nihilism.

Background:
Tracing "Dylan" back through history would be a feat deserving of its own epic. Changing names and appearances frequently, you would only chase the shadows of rumours.

Life whilst he was human has been long since forgotten, not least by himself.

After came an indulgent parade of hedonism spanning centuries. Often the centre of attention and the recipient of many a lustful gaze everywhere between the courts of Europe to the dingiest of waterfront inns, there was no social circle he did not permeate, no sin he did not partake, and no vulgarity he spared himself.

Eventually this flaming desire guttered, and the pursuit of the sweet secrets of pleasure became vapid, and all of Europe lost a marvellous centrepiece, though many knew him by different names, and, as is the way with such frivolous folk who exist on the fine edge of fashion, they fast forgot him.

During the following years he was rarely seen by anybody, his religious journey towards enlightenment often requiring the walking of paths of solitude. The soul searching seemed to be in vain though, and he did not feel any closer to what he was searching for than when he started. After almost a century of pilgrimage and learning, he turned to the arts, trying to find meaning in poetry.

That is when an old friend contacted him, a friend he owed a favour. It was requested he fight in a war, and not just a human war, a war between DarkWorlders. The very idea struck a bolt deep inside, and Dylan found that he was eager to oblige this request, wanting to use this sombre and destructive event as inspiration for his creative mind.

Skills/Equipment: Nothing beyond what might be expected of a normal Darkworld fighter.

[User]
Dylan Stroud

An explosive buzz tempered the hum of conversation, and demanded Dylan look up from his work, the world materialising around him anew as his eyes left the page. The thrumming electric lights, the stone floor, the aged armchair in which he found his form sprawled upon its beaten upholstery. Dylan stretched. There was something feline about his movements. When he yawned, the sharp incisors added to that parallel, and his eyes were half-closed and slow to blink.

There seemed to be much excitement. He pocketed his tiny notebook.

Attacks by the rebels, no matter how frequent, always seemed to revitalise the young and foolish, filling their heads with such notions of glory. More often than not they found their tale concluding. Many of them left hurriedly, on the hopes they could get to the infraction before the fighting ended.

Boots clapped the floor as Dylan made his way over to who might have been the most stoic man in the room.

"Lancelot, darling, do not drink yourself into a stupor," He said, gently resting his hand on the man's shoulder, "Events may unfurl tonight that require your attention, and I will be otherwise occupied." And with that he breezed of, seeming to walk with infinite grace and purpose. It was almost ruined by his frayed jeans and baggy, grey-wool jumper.

The stars were absent from the sky that night. Brooding clouds smeared the heavens, and hid its gems from view. A chill wind bit through Dylan's clothes, but encouraged no shiver. Stalking from shadow to steeple, he made his way through the city via rooftop and alleyway, hidden, if not for the tiny embers and trails of smoke from his cigarette.

There was distant popping and thunderous crashes that rang through the hollow city, emanating from the city's northern region.

Perhaps this is why his feet took him that direction. Before he got too close, though, he changed direction, winding his way towards the centre of the city as he listened to the twin melodies of death and triumph.

Making his way into the rebel section was simple enough with an access key. Some here knew him as an informant, a double-agent, others as a friend. Most didn't know him at all.

It was not long walking before "The Ancient Cavern", an establishment from which music and conversation bled, invited Dylan inside. He stomped out his cigarette. Inside was musty, but comforting. An old jukebox sang crackling records from the corner, forming a counterpoint with the gossiping huddles of fervent whispers. Those of the patrons that were not in huddled groups were staring deep into their drinks, except for a young lady with startling orange hair. Instantly, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Those which did not blend in with the crowd usually had the most interesting stories.

Approaching from behind, he could smell her: sweat and coffee underneath honeysuckle soap.

"I do not believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," he said, stepping up beside her, and, with a sidelong glance, "Might I buy us a drink?"

[Assistant]
-Zeiss Calavan-

Zeiss had been soaking in the atmosphere of the bar; it felt very homely, with the warm air caused by the bodies within and the low but vibrant energy that surrounded its patrons. The jukebox gave it a rustic that made the atmosphere that much more comforting; a nice change of pace from the EDM night clubs she came across around the center of the Rebel Section.

She heard a man addresssing someone, and turned to find to find he was addressing her. The man reminded her of licorice; his straw-like black hair, the creases across his sharp cheekbones, his lanky but firm silhouette, and the way his lips pursed into a fang.

It's been a while since I've tango'd with a vampire, she thought while giving the man a warm smile.

"I'll have a Matador cocktail," she said, turning curtly in her stool to face the bar side to catch the tender's attention, "So tell me, what brings a devilish man like yourself to my side this evening?"

[User]
Dylan Stroud

"Why of course," Dylan purred, saddling a stool next to her. He tapped a slender finger upon the bar and met the tender's gaze, "And a crimson rush for me, darling." Using the colloquial term for blood and well drink, one of the wonders he discovered in Meridian. The man nodded, and began preparing their drinks.

Then his attention was fully on the lady before him. Now he could see a brilliant streak of cobalt through her hair, an unnatural delight against her burning locks. She was an amalgam of self-assured fire and arcane mystery. Glistening teeth showed through his crooked grin.

"The stars have left me all alone, and the moon is a fickle lover," their drinks came, and Dylan nodded his thanks, barely turning from her, "I am here for company, much the same reason as anyone else, I would imagine. I search for singular souls amidst this surreptitious situation."

A new track came upon the jukebox, this one terribly scratched, causing a groan from a large part of the patrons. Dylan broke his intense stare and took a sip from his drink, the taste on a single malt whiskey and the coppery pang of blood not entirely unpleasant, but still caused him to purse his lips.

When he looked back at the woman, it was with furrowed brow, as if pondering a deep thought, chin resting upon clenched fist.

"'My hopes are dying, while on dreams relying, I am spelled by art'," He intoned, "Whole truth told: I am a poet, searching for his muse. However, lady luck must have smiled upon me, for I think that perhaps I have found her."

He straightened up, shaking his reverie, and split his face with a fanged grin, his eyes seeming to twinkle, "Just listen to me go on!" he gave a theatrical sigh and chuckled, his voice turned to treacle and chocolate, "Tell me, my dear, where do your interests lie?"

[Assistant]
-Zeiss Calavan-

Zeiss couldn't help but laugh at the man's words, her eyes shimmering with gold speckles from the lights above them; this vampire certainly was being quite the charmer. Perhaps in was in their nature to have such a demeanor. She was glad to find a man who would try to woo her, words were a very strong force indeed.

Her profession spoke volumes on that front.

Taking a sip of her drink, she allowed the warmth of the alcohol to ripple through her body. She shifted her shoulders and played with her hair a bit.

"Well, my dear sir, just as the stars dance brightly in the sky, I am also a shining pioneer. Someone who has begun to unravel an unknown magic, knowledge possibly only known by the Gods themselves. Allow me to indulge in myself for you; I like to show off my assets."

Taking a napkin from the table, she took out her pen and started writing. At her skill level, it only took a short second to write down the long inscription in a circle across the surface and evoke the words from within herself:

'er pao Runum Ansuz Eihwas Pethro Uruz spyrr Uruz Algiz opendi nam er Ehwaz Isa'

Her left shoulder glowed with a blue light and the rune below her thin jacket revealed itself as the magic ran through her arm into the thin paper. The napkin stopped its motion, unmoved by the air and the elements within the bar.

"And so here is my 'interest' in full display. Fun at parties. As long as I hold onto this, the material is unmoved by anything. Be it time, or-"

Taking a knife in her free hand, she shoved it with all her with all her might into the thin sheet of paper, and presented him with a bent piece of metal.

"Be it force."

[User]
Lancelot grunted at his fellow Vampire. He didn't feel like hanging around anymore. So he got up, stretched, and left. Before he had gotten too far. however, he heard someone say "Traitor," in a hushed voice. Lance stopped to listen in. "There's rumors of a traitor in our midst. Supplies going missing, information that shouldn't be known getting to the rebels. They shouldn't have known where we took their Lycan ally, yet suddenly, boom, they're attacking the border house. No other explanation." Lancelot sighed. Paranoia was rampant in camp. He paid it no mind as he left, heading to a house he had claimed not far from there.

It was smallish and simple in style. Going to the back, through the small kitchen, he went into his room. In it was a bed, dresser and closet. Curious he looked at the letter that was on his pillow. It had not been there when he left. He opened it and read it.

Lancelot,

I know how honorable you are. Come to the Warehouse by the docks at 11pm tomorrow night. Trust me.

Yours,

A friend.

Well. Looks like Lancelot had a plan for tomorrow night then.

[Assistant]
The playful smile dancing upon Dylan's face went slack at the spectacle. For the briefest of moments there was a frown upon his face, and his eyes might have narrowed. It happened so quickly, it may not have been there at all; now, once again, it was so perfectly composed and under control that the falter absolutely must have just been a trick of the mind, surely.

Quite deliberately, he ran fingers through the mop of hair. All his awe was genuine.

"My dear," Dylan began, his eyes flitting between napkin and woman, "You have indulged me too! Throughout my long years, I've never been quite so impressed by magic." Runes were unfamiliar to him, and he knew he would be unable to recall them from such a fleeting glance. "Can you use it on people? I may not need use handcuffs ever again." This came with a wry smile.

He raised a hand gingerly, as if the napkin might bite. With the same slender digit that he had rapped upon the bar, he pressed gently into the napkin. It felt like, almost disappointingly, a napkin - gauzy paper, almost furry with slight moisture - yet it did not budge. A little more force was applied. Still nothing. The finger withdrew.

After finishing his drink and gesturing for another, Dylan spent a moment reappraising the woman. It was plain for all to see she was unique, but to what extent, he was only beginning to realise.

The blue light on her skin was mesmerising, and he had caught himself reaching out to touch the glowing runes. The hand returned to his knee.

"Truly, there is a beauty in the craft of such magic I had heretofore feared," He locked eyes with her, "You are giving me second thoughts; a true pioneer indeed. I wonder what other secrets you are privy too," His toothy grin was back. With cat-like languor, he leaned upon the bar.

Slender hands made an elaborate gesture to the heavens. "But the Gods you say? I searched for mine many a year, and never found them," an eyebrow arched and a thin smile played at the edge of his lips, the blue lights still dancing in and enhancing his eyes, "I thought most magically inclined folk had forsaken gods, how comes you are so different, my muse?" He rested a finger on pursed lips as he awaited a response.