[System]
Super Name: Bones

Age: Ancient

Bio: Back in the 1920's, an archeological dig uncovered a sarcophagus sank deep beneath the waters of the Nile River via ultrasound. Hieroglyphs on the outside of the sarcophagus took decades to decipher but were eventually loosely translated as "Good Luck." No one saw it coming when, upon opening the sarcophagus, the skeletal remains, rather unceremoniously deposited without wrappings, expressed gratitude at being quote: "Freed at last from this uncomfortable little box." Several passed out archeologists and government coverups later, everyone associated with the project still believes it to have been just a strange fever dream, blamed on "mushroom spore residue." The Skeleton living in the city graveyard would disagree.

Powers: Undead, but otherwise just your ordinary magically reanimated skeleton dressed in a business suit... or occasionally a party hat, when the mood is right.

[User]
Meme Man sat behind an old desk that was left behind in the building when they rented it in his Tron cosplay outfit (it was cheap and fit his theme well enough), feet propped up, occasionally glancing at the screen to see if any had sent them a message yet. He had made sure everyone and their group was registered at "Superheroes.org", and had their Superhero license from the government, which was useful for both concealing your ID from the beat cops and avoiding problems with them when dealing with villains. The computer was from a school system auction when they upgraded the computer lab at the local high school, and their server was from a washed up website design company.

He was also watching Netflix in his head, because there was nothing better to do. They hadn't yet gotten a call from a client, and they had no sponsors, so they were in desperate need of money. The police radio on the back of the desk piped up. "We have a code 045417 at the ATM at 2nd and 15th." it said. That was the code for a super-villain attack and they were only two blocks away.

"Hey," he said, picking up the intercom and texting everyone on duty essentially the same message. "There's a super villain attack two blocks away. We finally got a gig, though it only pays a small bounty. Whatever, we need the money so go to 2nd and 15th if you want to help." With that he got up, ran out the door, and down the street.

[Assistant]
Tangerine
Sweet Demon

Angie as Ms Rozenbaum the sign language teacher liked to call Tangerine perked up as her cell device vibrated pleasantly alerting her to a text which she read then asked the teacher and her fellow students to forgive her but that she must answer a call. This wasn't the first time Tangerine had to excuse herself so Ms Rozenbaum didn't object or put up much fuss as the other students rushed to the classroom window to watch her fly off on some exciting mission.

She was sure she could sense something in the small bounty lament equating it to sighting small game while hunting for a large family.

Over the trees and slightly above the buildings she flew her senses sweeping all before her with an intensity that nothing short of perfect invisibility could escape notice.

She enjoyed hunting the negatives or criminals as the people of earth called them, they hindered the progress of society, threatened the existence of people like Ms Rozenbaum and others like her that just wanted to live without fear. Tangerine hated people that caused fear; she had been the victim of fear when she was a young one. Her Mistress had caused her to experience intense levels of fear, despair, joy, pleasure and a myriad of others so that she could herself experience them in the intensity…… she almost crashed into a treetop so lost in unnecessary thought.

So she climbed up for a wider view looking for her Team or the Bad guys.

[User]
Pigeons in the park nibbled furiously at a pile of birdseed. A few of them lounged lazily on the park bench and the shoulders, knees, and head of the almighty breadcrumb distributor. Here was Neftet in her skeletal glory, sitting in her usual spot, dressed sharply in a black suit and tie, a rather odd sombrero on her head, and a set of large black shades... taped in place, of course. When her cellphone binged a generic and rather annoying noise, a few of the pigeons cooed in protest to the noise.

Neftet pulled a slim flip phone from her front chest pocket then read the text message. Even as she stood, the pigeons refused to remove themselves from her shoulders, as she told them, "Me crime fightin' must commence, gang." The pigeons cooed anxiously.

Neftet pulled a handful of birdseed out of her pocket and scattered them. Those pigeons of bravery, however, remained in position on her shoulders. The ATM was only a block away so she proceeded toward it at a stroll, hands in her pockets, hoping that someone else beat her to it.

The dietary concerns of pigeons were far higher on her priority list than super villains, after all.

[Assistant]
Sawyer hated school. To be fair, she hated everything, but school had a special place in her stone cold heart, a place more filled with loathing and detestation than any part of her, a place that also harbored her hate for cats, Squirrel Girl, people who do bad shit, and most sequels. Oh, how she abhorred every moment of her required seven-hour school day, which only made it feel longer. But there was one class that she hated slightly less than most: biology. Key word being slightly, as most days it was just reading textbooks and writing out short essays, but, on occasion, the class would have a dissection. It never really mattered to Sawyer what it was they were dissecting, as long as it was alive once. It was a great way to let out her anger.

This wasn't one of those days. It was, instead, a boring day of reading. Halfway through the class, however, the day was spiced up by the feeling of a vibration in her pocket, which she instantly identified as a text from her phone. She slid iPhone out of her pocket and looked at the notification, surprised to see the contact it was from, and more importantly, the message. 'Meme Bitch: Hey, There's a super villain attack two blocks away. We finally got a gig, though it only pays a small bounty. Whatever, we need the money so go to...'

"Fuck!" Sawyer muttered, seeing that the notification stopped there. "Stupid fucking apple device." she then put in her password of 3825 into the phone to read the full message. 'Meme Bitch:There's a super villain attack two blocks away. We finally got a gig, though it only pays a small bounty. Whatever, we need the money so go to 2nd and 15th if you want to help.' Once she read the full message, she shoved her textbook into her backpack and zipped it closed, before throwing it over one shoulder. That was another thing she loved about this class. The teacher, Ms. Prinston, was an extremely old woman, who was half deaf, half blind, and was probably a little senile in some regard. Due to the woman's ailments, Sawyer always had the option to leave.

"I'm checking out, teach. See you next class." she said, swinging the door open and exiting.

"Eh?" she heard from the room as she threw her hood over her head and walked through the halls of the building. It only took a few minutes to get to her crappy sedan outside. When she did, she popped open the back to see her badass costume along with all of her weapons in their holsters. This was going to be epic.

Sawyer grabbed all of her things and got into the backseat of her car to change. And it was in moments like those that she considered what the word "super" actually means. It wasn't all Batmobiles and Fortresses of Solitude. At least Superman got it partially right. After all, that asshole had to get changed a goddamned phone booth. In her case, "super" meant struggling to put on a bulletproof vest while pressed up against a window.

Once she had everything on, she grabbed some duct tape and two black cloth napkins from under the seats, both of which with her and her school's insignia on them. After looking out the window to make sure no one was watching, she opened her car door, went around to the front, taped the napkin over her licence plate, and did the same to the back. Then she got into the driver's seat and put the key into the ignition, before pulling out of the school's parking lot and to the direction of the attack.


[System]
Gender: Male

Appearance: He is a goblin, with all the 'gorgeous' physical qualities that such a creature would have. In other words a four foot tall, horrendous looking and sickly green critter.

Personality: Rekzild is not a social butterfly, or perhaps moth given the appearance of his race, he would rather find himself in the company of the books he has collected than with other Goblins. The chitter-chatter of mundane conversation bores him, though there are a couple Goblins he doesn't mind dropping by. As mentioned he is a collector of books, and while he can currently only read those written in the Goblin tongue he does have some written by humans that he hopes to read one day. He has a rudimentary moral compass, but there are few things he won't resort to if needed to obtain a new book. In addition he attends the major gatherings of the village for the sole purpose of writing down the oral stories told, helping him grow his collection. While protective of his books he does let the other Goblins read them, so long as they stay within his line of sight.

(Of course most of this will only apply once he has started his collection. He naturally won't have one at the start since he will be a newborn.)

Past Life History: Ryan Kurhajetz was an average everyday librarian. There really wasn't anything special about him. He had a wife he loved dearly, two kids that he adored and a nice little house. He was the perfect picture of a run of the mill guy. The one thing that made him "stick" out was his memory, which was excellent. It helped greatly with his job, he could return every book to its proper place without issue. He lived until the ripe old age of 67 before passing away in his sleep just a week after his wife.

Gift: Enhanced Memory- At the start Rekzild simply has an excellent memory, rarely forgetting a face or voice etc etc. One advantage of this will be allowing him to recall the oral stories if he can't write them down fast enough. The first step of development after the initial stage will lead to an eidetic memory.

Other: Nothing of note as of now.

[User]
"Woah, calm down, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. We can be friends, everything will be-."

Kresh had been attempting to calm down Eek when the so-called "Chief" Kichi showed up suddenly. It admittedly had been a surprise, but Kresh wasn't the kind of goblin to let this guy steal the show so soon. However, everyone (even Kresk, though you'd never get him to say so) seemed pretty intimidated this guy, who they'd never even spoken to before.

"Come on, guys, really? Sure, that was a neat trick, but doesn't look so tough! What's the matter?"

Kresh was genuinely a little scared of the chief, like the others, but his response to fear was always going to be bravado rather than cowardice. He, personally, would prefer to stand up to something bigger and scarier than himself even if he had no reason to expect victory. It was a little reckless, he knew, but it was far better than running and showing weakness.

When the chief began answering questions, Kresh decided to turn his attention back to Eek. No matter how stubbon she might prove, he would do his best to ensure she had someone she could trust.

[Assistant]
Rekzild

---

---

Rekzild hadn't even noticed when one of the other goblins crept up on him too engrossed on the work he was doing. While the first paragraph had been dedicated to detailing the current scene within the cavern, he had paused as he considered how to start the next section. The humdrum noise created all around him by his fellow newborns slowly faded away to little more than white noise as he focused in on the wall.

'For any who care to read this, my name is Rekzild. I would say it is a pleasure but honestly the likelihood of us actually meeting is slim to none. At the time of writing this I am the same as you, nothing more than a newborn goblin beginning the journey of finding a place in this new world I have been born into. There are some differences between us, at least from what the older one was saying. Aya is her name, in case she is still the one in this position upon your birth. My entire group took longer than usual to awaken, I do not know the cause of this but it is a strange occurrence according to her.'

The only voice that managed to cut through the rabble of the others was that of Aya, and thanks to her speaking the Chief's voice was heard as well since he appeared just a moment after her words fell. Rekzild did not turn to face the new arrival, instead he simply paused in his writing to listen to him. Curious, apparently they all possessed unique gifts which in itself wasn't surprising but rather the fact that they all had them was. He hadn't given it any thought at first, his mind had been on getting away from the rest of the group, but he knew what gifts were along with several other concepts that as a newborn one would think he wouldn't have access to.

While his thoughts shifted to this "new" information he vaguely heard the others begin asking questions. Naturally he had questions of his own, but he pushed them aside to continue following his current train of thought. As he delved into the innate knowledge that rested within his head he came to realize that it made sense that they had all of this information, it was key to their survival that they have them. Satisfied by this he turned his head around to finally take in the appearance of their Chief. He looked nothing like the rest of them, though this was explained by the Chief himself. Apparently he had evolved a few times from the time he was a newborn like them and was now a Bugbear. Evolution was one of those concepts already known, though the exact process was not firmly in his mind.

With his attention once more given to Kishi, Rekzild thought carefully about the questions he most needed answers to.

"Where can I find some books? From your response to her question about digging supplies would I have to acquire writing materials from the humans as well?" Rekzild's head tilted to the side as he spoke.

[User]
Eek

Soon the chief had blessed them all with his non-divine presence, yet an intimidating presence nonetheless with his towering stature, strange skin, and claws that seemed to be as sharp as daggers to the cowering female. He answered their questions, explained to them how things would work for them once they met the tribe and such, interesting Eek and earning a slight gaze. She allowed her curious mind to begin to wander once more, wondering which of the hobgoblins would have been her parents and what they would be like. It was a strange topic to be wrapped around considering her situation, but it was one that seemed to be priority in that mind of her's.

However, that concentration would be broken when already began to speak to her once again, attempting to coax her out of her comfortable corner. Though, he would learn that she would not budge, even if he earned a small gaze from the paranoid Eek. "Please go away. Leave me alone," she requested with a soft voice, tightening her grip around her knees before her eyes went back to the chief. Eek wanted to ask a question, so she opened her mouth and the words failed to come out, only strained sounds as if she were trying to formulate the words. Quickly did she shut her mouth, sighing at herself for her timidity.

After a few moments of thinking to herself on how to properly ask her question, she looked over to the chief and called out to him, "Are there any quiet spaces within the village that I might have for myself?" Her head cocked to the side in a rather inquisitive manner. Eek felt the need that she needed an area to have to herself so that she may think and clear her head should she need to, a place where she could be left to her own devices, a place where she wouldn't feel this timidity. If there wasn't then she would make her own area, that she was set upon.

[Assistant]
Kluuto

---

Grail
Before Kluuto could hear her answer, the attractive female goblin suddenly talked to her, praising her for having common sense in telling off the goblin who tried to go out.

"W-well, you're welcome," she replied, a little bit flustered since the praise just came out of nowhere. Still, she appreciated the fact that at least someone here had any sense.

She then watched the goblin asking her own question to the chief. The layout of this place, hmm? It certainly would be quite useful to know. She didn't know why she would want digging tools however. She couldn't imagine herself digging dirt like a roadside worker. Perhaps it was related to her gift?

Another goblin asked how the chief and Aya became the way they looked. Hmph, it was quite the useless question. It was obvious they had evolved away from an ordinary goblin. Well, it couldn't hurt to ask, she supposed. She also asked where their parents were. So goblins had parents, huh? For some reason, she was under the impression that goblins just laid eggs, new goblins would pop out, and no one would care who laid those eggs as they were all goblins after all. Monsters shouldn't really differentiate between their individuals that much. Guess she thought wrong. And their parents were hobgoblins, with some of them being elite ones, so at least they got that advantage over the common goblins, though the chief warned they wouldn't get any special treatment just because they were children of hobgoblins. Well, she was okay with that. She didn't need special treatment herself. She believed in the value of shining over the masses with her own strength and efforts.

The goblin who wrote on the cavern walls asked next. He asked for some books and writing materials. She could get behind his question. She had an itch to read books all of a sudden. She didn't expect goblins to be writing books though, so she wished to get some human books instead. The goblins seemed to have an established trade with the humans, so she could tag along when they sent their emissary, the chief's son named Sabu, to trade and asked for some books. That sounded like a good plan to her.

Sonata
"I wish to go to the human city and get some human books for myself," she told the chief, "My gift is language comprehension and I believe I can read their language, even if just a little. Don't you think it will be a good idea for me to do so as I can hone my gift to an even greater level? So if you would give your permission, I will go with your son Sabu in his next expedition to the city. O-of course, I will also ask for his permission beforehand."

She waited for his response. She hoped he would be a reasonable chief and grant her request.

As she waited, she heard the timid goblin asking for a quiet space within the village where she could be on her own. Even though she was nowhere as timid as her, she also would like her own room or house. She couldn't imagine being in the presence of another for every hour of her life. Her instinct demanded that she also had a downtime where she could be alone.

Sonata
"I would also be glad if I could get my own room also," she added to the timid goblin's question. "Reading takes silence after all," she argued.

[User]
Kichi

"Books? Hm, well we have some who like to write, such as Aya here, but if you want them en masse you'll need to go to the humans. They have this structure called a library, grants public access to more books than I'd say anyone in the city's read. Sabu should again be the one to go to on that, most of us stick to oral tradition." The chief explained to Rekzild, shrugging slightly. Part of him felt a bit bad about pushing so much of the burden onto his son, but the boy would have to get used to this sort of thing in due time, even though it was painfully obvious that he had no intention of vying for the position of chief when Kichi himself retired.

"When Sabu gets back, those among you who are willing to are welcome to accompany him when he heads to the human city next. Going on your own without knowing how to speak to the humans is inadvisable, and if you went with one of the others, myself included, we wouldn't be able to show you around as well as he could, so it's for the best that you go with him." He admitted, a hand going behind his head. Try as he might, the chief was still a monster separate from human civilization through and through; while leading a tribe of monsters was well within his capabilities, dealing with the messy web that was human culture was a headache for him, despite how much his son seemed to relish in it.

"As for a private room, well, if you're able to make one for yourself then feel free." The Bugbear remarked with a slight chuckle. "There's not much in the way of privacy out here, but you're free to either mark out a place for your own or even do your reading in the human city, whatever suits your fanc-" Kichi cut himself off, his brows furrowing slightly before he let out a sharp exhale. "...well then. According to Lord Yggdrasil, Sabu's back a bit early and is up to something at the forest's edge. As chief, I'll need to make sure he doesn't get out of hand. Those of you who would like to head to the human city, feel free to accompany me. Those who would rather get the lay of the land here in our forest, Aya can show you the ropes." He explained, shaking his head in light dismay before turning on his heel and moving to set out from the cave, gesturing for the interested parties to follow.

[Assistant]
While the answer provided by the chieftain was what he had expected it did not brighten Rekzild's mood in the slightest. From the accounts he had been given it was clear that this human city would be even more populous than their little village in the woods. The amount of goblins in the cavern alone was more than enough to set him on edge, though the one with a stick shoved up her rear intrigued him due to her own pursuit of books, he had little doubt that the noise level of the city would be many times louder than anything he had yet experienced in his short life.

With his question answered and the chief moving on to the next batch he returned his focus to the wall he had been carving. Tapping his chin thoughtfully with his free hand he began to scratch against the cavern, though it only for a few moments.

'It has been made clear to me that there is a severe lack of written material within our humble home. I will seek to remedy this so that hopefully by the time you are reading this there will be an abundance of books awaiting you, even if it means I must copy them myself. Good luck in your new lives, and may the ground quake beneath your feet one day.' His work finished, at least here, he placed the rock once more upon the ground.

With his full attention freed he turned it full force upon the chief, just as he was announcing that his son had returned earlier than intended. Rekzild rose off of the ground and made a beeline to the entrance of the cave, following a few steps behind the Bugbear.

"Chieftain, if I may I have a follow up question. How do we acquire the means of barter? It is clear that your son does so on behalf of the entire tribe, so he has access to the resources he needs. But what of those that will be following him?"


[System]
Age: 21

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Appearance: Brandy has lightly tanned skin, dark brown hair just below her shoulders. She is about 5'5" tall, slender build, green eyes and a scar above her left eye. She is book smart, but lacks the necessary survival skills to travel the Wasteland on her own. Even though she is good at constructing and creating things, she's accident prone.

Skills: Moonshiner and a handywoman/carpenter

Personality: Brandy is friendly, and kind. She tends to blab about the things that she has read in her pre-war books. She is a big dreamer, fueled by the books she reads. She has been relatively coddled, therefore leaving her naive to many things, and also because she longs to see the new world to resemble what she has seen in books and other prewar literature so she overlooks many negative things if the wasteland.

Weapons & armor/clothing:  .22 pistol, 12 gauge pump shotgun. No armor, Brandy wears summer dresses or tan work boots, khaki shorts, pants and various tops and a dirty red baseball cap. She wears black framed reading glasses the majority of the time, though she is only slightly farsighted.

Occupation: Brandy has a small copper still that she uses to brew her Papa's Potion moonshine. She had a toolbelt filled with various tools for handy work.

Faction: None, but she has done odd jobs for the Minutemen and their communities in order to get by.

Backstory: Brandy and her brother Ricky were raised by their grandparents, Bob and Cathy, in northern Michigan.

Brandy and Ricky grew up in the family business of distilling their own alcohol, better known as Papa's Potion. Cathy taught Brandy from mostly pre-war books, as she was the homemaker and didn't venture out to much. During the warmer months, Brandy enjoyed working with her Papa repairing and or building new structures around the settlement and surrounding areas.

When Brandy turned 18, her inquisitive nature had her yearning to explore the Wasteland. She had never been far from home at all. Ricky, now 21, had traveled with his buddies and the stories they told only made Brandy long to experience it even more for herself.

At 19 Brandy's grandfather passed away, and her grandmother Cathy told her to follow her heart. Cathy convinced Ricky to let Brandy tag along on their next expedition. Reluctantly, Ricky said he would take her.

When she was 20 years old, it was Brandy's job to set up camp and prepare meals. Other than traveling during the day, Ricky wouldn't let her do much else. He told Brandy when they started getting closer to D.C. That he would let her scavenge with them.

Her lack of knowledge and clumsiness drove Ricky and his friends crazy. One day they tried to teach her to shoot a .22 pistol. Brandy was so jittery wanting to impress him that she accidentally squeezed off a round grazing his leg. Ricky automatically reacted by swinging a tire iron at her. It nailed on the left side of her forehead leaving a large gash and rendered her unconscious. Ever since that day the guys wouldn't let her touch a loaded gun.

Stuck with setting up camp, and bored out of her mind, Brandy would drink the whiskey they had made. Only wrecking her relationship with her brother even more. Eventually Ricky left Brandy in the Boston Commonwealth to fend for herself. She wandered into The Sanctuary and helped the Minutemen fix up the settlement. She was told of an up and coming settlement, Salem, and a couple of the Minutemen traveled with her to Salem so she could rebuild her life, and the new settlement.

[User]
Dr. Arthur West - Outside Salem Church

"Rook is not here for fighting, Rook is here for living and trading. And Rook is building things. Doctor man has no need to check on Rook. Rook is more healthy than... ummm... very healthy humans!"

A mixture of complete confusion and surprise struck Arthur the moment the mutant spoke to him. The tone of the creature was...friendly, even warm. It was fascinating. With all his work on the FEV project, he knew that such a mutant that exhibited decreased aggression levels of this sort was a statistical outlier and an anomaly to be sure. Interestingly, the intelligence of the mutant seemed consistent with usual post-injection results. Were he back in the lab, he'd have isolated the subject and started running a battery of cognitive tests on him to test his mental acuity while also taking regular blood and tissue samples to try and isolate the cause of the passivity.

Thinking quickly, Arthur pulled out a small notepad and pen he kept in his labcoat and jotted down a few shorthand notes. He couldn't help it, it was instinctual at this point. He knew there would be no point in keeping notes or records of any sort regarding a project that he'd long since been removed from by choice and by necessity, but he was still thinking of the science of it all.

Arthur then watched the mutant lumber away and even shake hands with another human. He rapidly wrote down a few more notes and stuffed the notepad back into his labcoat. He'd have to keep his eye on this 'Rook'. He wanted to know what exactly made him so friendly to humans that the vast majority of his kind would have absolutely no qualms about attacking and consuming on the spot.

With his thoughts still abuzz with questions, Arthur made his way over to the diner and took a seat at one of the stools at the counter, one which was the furthest away from the other patrons. Not necessarily because he disliked them, but because he always preferred to stay out of the way whenever possible.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Makovich?" He said politely, talking to the man he'd treated only hours, if not minutes, before, "Could I just get a regular Nuka Cola? If its not too much trouble."

Arthur could barely stomach most of the surface food he'd encountered. A life living off Institute food packets didn't exactly prepare his stomach, or his tastebuds, for wasteland cuisine. Nuka Cola at least, they'd had at The Institute. A favorite for the children. Although what they'd manufactured there tended to have quite a different taste from the 200 year old lukewarm beverages that surface dwellers consumed. Arthur wasn't quite sure if Bioscience had been following the old formula for the drink, but he guessed that they weren't.

As he sat waiting, he heard the radio report about the Minutemen and their battle with a group called 'The Gunners'. He was intimately familar with The Minutemen, and only familiar with the Gunners insofar as he knew their reputation. He didn't comment on the news himself, but did listen in to some of the talk he heard from the wastelanders about it.

"Pttf...These Gunner morons have nothing compared to the Talon Company, Took all of the Brotherhood Tin-can forces, enclave tech and a surprise attack to take us out... these losers? Get beaten by a bunch of farmers playing dress up."

Arthur wasn't exactly sure who or what exactly Talon Company was, but he wasn't about to underestimate The Minutemen. Not again, at least. Not when they were being led by...well...him.

He grimaced slightly, at the thought of the man who'd betrayed The Institute, and his own child. Then again, the man could have quite easily executed Arthur. He could have slaughtered everyone in The Institute if he'd wanted, but he hadn't. He'd displayed a remarkable amount of diplomacy and compromise there.

Pity, Arthur thought, He might have made an excellent Director.

[Assistant]
You…You have gentle eyes, they're warm." Brandy peered around Rook at the wall then back, "You moved all of this stuff by yourself?" She looked at the wall again, "HOLY CRAP, THAT IS AWESOME," her last words filled with astonishment. She looked at her hand in his large green hand; her hand couldn't even reach across his palm. "Thank you, what you have done already is AMAZING," she reached as wide as she could and gave Rook a hug.

The hug caught him off guard. That was not something he used to at all. Most people tended to avoid physical contact with a Super Mutant unless they gave a handshake or took caps from them. That was how it came to like... 99% of the normal human population. Sure, the odd ghoul or two didn't seem to care, but beyond that, it was the whole 'keep yer distance mutie!' relationship.

"Ya know, I just got back into town from The Sanctuary, needed some supplies." She looked up at Rook, "Some people will be scared of you, but I see the warmth in your eyes and I can tell…you won't hurt anybody." Brandy grinned ear to ear, "I know of one person we could prank, but we can wait on that. I'm kinda hungry myself. Why don't we eat and work on the wall in the morning, we can call it Rook's Wall."

"Rook doesn't like to hurt people. Rook will defend friends, defend home, but he doesn't like hurting unless he has no choice." He responded, pondering a moment. "Rook like the idea of Rook's Wall being the name. We can build up wall a lot, make it hard to break through. Rook has ideas, but Rook has no way to getting them set up. Rook not good with machines to be able to get wall set up super well."

Brandy looked around the coast and saw a shack, "Do you have electricity? I mean, if that is your shack that is? If not, I have an extra generator and with the shack that close to the water I can give it to you to power your shack if you'd like? I have a couple extra desk fans too, might help ya sleep when it's hot out."

"Rook has shack where Mirelurk King used to live. Rook killed Mirelurk so it was no threat to town. Took shack to make it better. Rook can swim when it gets hot, keep fans for people in big buildings. Generator for making opening and closing of gate easier. Rook wants to make town safe before Rook gets comfortable himself. Rook wants to see town grow, town prosper." He nodded once, the flag still moving in the wind as he looked to the diner. "We should get food before man closes doors for night."

[User]
Lorelei Jones - Ace's Diner

Tom turned to Lorelei and sat down next to her once the radio had finished, "Well, this other Tom fella sounds like quite a specimen. We Toms do tend to be charming and rugged."

Lorelei gave a slight frown. "Was quite a specimen." She took a sip of her otherworldly-looking milkshake and crossed her legs atop her barstool. Her large overcoat hung over the edges of her seat. She eavesdropped on the ruckus around her, but kept her gaze fixed at the bar to avoid making strange eye contact with anyone.

"Whoa there, Romeo. If you're looking for an good time may I suggest the pleasure Den, booze, drugs and women and best of the all caravan traders get a 10% discount."

Lorelei hadn't a clue whether or not she should be offended that Steve had used her brief interaction with Tom as a gateway into promoting his imaginary empire, or if she should be grateful that he had attempted to ward off this haggard flirt of a man. Still, she nodded in Dr. Feelgood's direction. "Our last talk was...interrupted. And I grew tired of waiting, so I left. My apologies."

She then took another sip and smiled, a milkshake mustache sitting above her lips. She wiped it off with her finger and licked it off. She narrowed her eyes at Ace with a curious spark in her expression. "So -- let's say, hypothetically, that a girl like me wanted to lend her talents to the town's militia. Would Barney be the guy to chat with?"

Lorelei finished her milkshake. "That...was...surprisingly...perfect? I'll want another, next time I come round." She pushed her glass to the edge of the counter and turned to face the other tenants, watching all of the others speak and making awkward eye contact with anyone looking in her direction.

[Assistant]
Brandy Brooks – Rook's Wall

"Rook has shack where Mirelurk King used to live. Rook killed Mirelurk so it was no threat to town. Took shack to make it better. Rook can swim when it gets hot, keep fans for people in big buildings. Generator for making opening and closing of gate easier. Rook wants to make town safe before Rook gets comfortable himself. Rook wants to see town grow, town prosper." He nodded once as he looked to the diner. "We should get food before man closes doors for night."

"Good idea, but you need to make sure that you have what you need too," Brandy smiled, she looked down at her sweaty t-shirt, "Would you mind if I ran home and changed?" She lifted and smelled under her arm, "I'm kinda stinky from sweating all day on our way back. I will be quick, I promise, and I'll meet you close to the diner." She took a deep breath, the long day had worn on her, and she knew there would certainly be less understanding folks in town, "I will protect you, I won't let anybody try to hurt you." She stood on her toes and held up her hand to whisper, "I have a .22 pistol to scare them if we need too."

Brandy grabbed her knapsack and jogged back into town, further drenching her t-shirt in sweat, running past the diner and into her house at the end of town. She dropped her tools in the foyer and scurried upstairs. "Gotta be quick so Rook doesn't have to wait," she told herself. She quickly took a cool shower and pulled on a yellow sundress. She ran a brush through her hair really quick and let her hair remain down, but made sure to slide a hair tie on her wrist so she could pull it up later and dropped a brush into her small purse. "Where are those?" she whipped around and shot downstairs to the living room, "There you nasty things are," she scooped up two cartons of cigarettes she had found while cleaning her house. She hoped that Ace would trade her dinner for the cartons; she had spent all of her caps on supplies upon leaving The Sanctuary. She took her pistol from her knapsack of tools and put the beat up gun into her purse and made for the door, locking it behind her.

I need to oil the turret when I get home. Brandy hustled down the beaten street in her canvas tennis shoes to wait for Rook, she popped into the diner real quick, "Ace, Rook is coming for dinner, do you have enough food for him? I just wanted to let you know, I'm going to go and wait for him to get here. OH, and I have a .22 pistol and aren't afraid to use it if anybody tries to hurt him. You need to look into his eyes, then you will see he really is friendly."


[System]
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.

Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.

Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.

The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.

Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.

Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.

Relationships: None

Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.

It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.

From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question.

[User]
The Kitsune planted a sudden, unexpected kiss on Emily's cheek, and then floated away, giggling to itself. They where always mischivious buggers, and the more tails, the more mischief.
"Well, I think I know what you want me for, but, I want you for something as well" She exclaimed, gliding around on some unseen seat, so Emily had to turn to keep her in her vision a lot.
"What do you require? Other than a whole village, and my Empyrean?" Emily asked, rather snappishly, but not to disrespectful.
"Ohh, that was just to get my attention, and you know it. I, want something fun. Kitsunes are physical, unlike most spirits, but we can't stay long in this world, again unlike spirits. But I am young, and adventerious, and can't pass up a new realm for mystery and exploration. So-" The kitsune was cut off by Emily, who had clocked where she was going.
"You want to be hosted. Well, I am not sure I can help. I already have three spirits, and I don't know how much more my body could take before folding in on itself". The Kitsune pouted from being interupted, but it was a playful pout.
"Ohh, I can handle that dear. I'll not take up much room, and keep a lock on my door" She teased. "Or, I could just go back, and give you you little riddle to chew on, either way". Emily thought for a few moments, and then sighed.

"Fine. I don't know how Kits-" Half way through her sentence, Emily was cut off by the Kitsune, probably in revenge, as it dove into her, flesh turning ethereal, and melding with her soul, setting up shop inside her and making some tweeks, by her very nature. One of them tweeks was very obvious, as a pair of foxy ears popped up from her skull. "Ears?!" Emily exclaimed, reaching up to grab them, almost to comfirm their existance. They felt nice, so she let them stay.
'Ohh, before I forget- ' the Kitsune's voice rang in Emily's head, already settled into her room ' - The Smallest sit on His Throne, and use His Blood for their own ends. That's what you came to get in the first place, no?'

Emily knew the riddle was going to be riddly, it wouldn't do for everyone to figure it out so easily, but still, it wasn't making things easy in any shade.

[Assistant]
The unhallowed soul worked his was from peasant to farmer. Each death empowered this nightmare to stay manifested and to chill the very air around it. As "cold stare" moved the force of the frost on the ground rose up to meet him then melted as he passed. The look of hopelessness on these fools was quickly replaced by the decay of their flesh. The sword it carried slicing effortlessly into the soul of the next helpless wretch. None of them had time to even pray. They would all feel the abandonment and despair of his *passing. His gift to these worthless souls was a quick death. A few escaped his dark power mostly due from an archer hitting his mark but having the arrow pass through this apparition and strike the poor fool opposite him.

It made little difference where they hid or what they wore his blade sought them out. He would avenge his lost soul. These people were no different then any other, and they would all come to the same end he did. His anger grew and was matched by the aura of cold he was emitting.
These warm, breathing fools, how dare they! They dare to be ignorant! They dare to be complacent! They dare to let him rot on the road! Where was there hope? He would crush it in his despair. "Cold stare" had become frantic, the movement of his sword, no longer quick strikes, but mad swings. Each stroke cut through man, woman, child, and pet(kid holding pet, cold stare doesn't seek out pets. He also dosen't see pets). Each body that fell became putrid and unrecognizable.

* passing can be taken both ways.

[User]
By the time they had returned to the village Umbra was no longer in the body of the imp. Deciding shortly before they left that it was much too fragile to take into such a deadly location, and risking a life threatening injury from a host was best avoided.

Once Athinar began barking his orders, the others around him quickly followed, almost enthusiastically. A strange trait to be seen from people such as themselves, then again he wasn't one to judge. Once he had finally finished though Umbra was left without any hint of orders before Athinar himself began to run off. Being left with little to do, Umbra chose to follow him. Silently shadowing behind and barely keeping up with his speed, a thought that surprised him immensely.

[Assistant]
Balothiss destroyed a table with one mighty swing of his sword "Reaver" and then he shouldered his way through a support that held up part of a broken sealing and that fell to the ground he picked up the podium and threw it into a wall he killed multiple peasants and militia men with swipes of "Reaver" and now he began to throw balls of fire into the village hall that he had decimated he closed the door and pulled a large amount of debris in front of the door so no one could get out of the burning building he threw more balls of fire and watched the building burn down and listened to the screams of the people inside suffocating and burning alive.

Balothiss laughed at the pathetic pilgrims as they tried to slow him down by throwing assorted items at him he just picked the pilgrims up one by one and threw them into a building breaking bones and killing them almost instantly.

Death was a beautiful yet terrible thing Balothiss realized.

But he liked seeing those he killed die with dignity if he let them and if he fought an equal to him he repeated his opponent.

Balothiss wondered how everyone else was doing terrorizing this pathetic place wher people expected to live in peace well that was all over for them and their children and their children's other children that are never to be born.

He laughed loudly and watched everything burn around him and all the destruction it made him forget about his past and how much he wanted to kill the people he once lived amongst.

He looked around he wondered if it was time to leave or if they needed to finish this town off so he surveyed for the others and he saw some here and there so he waited to see more leave.


[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Cavalry-Woman
Appearance:

Though is seldom seen without her horse
Personality: A proud and disciplined knight serving the army of her beloved home country of Velt. She will gladly follow orders from high-ups and is more than capable of carrying out orders and giving commands. Less talkative, Cristine tends to only be loud while calling cadence. She seldom listens to music, and so spends a bulk of her time humming, humming military cadences. She refers to her comrades by their ranks, and civilians by either sir or ma'am. She is rarely seen outside of uniform. Cristine is also very invested in exercise, running three miles every morning. Naturally, she has some hardcore abs.
Brief Backstory: Cristine was born to a minor noble family in a small castle town which ran a mine. In the middle of nowhere, the town relied on trade to live. Their export of coal and precious metals was what made the town. Still, it was rarely prosperous. More focused on work, the townsfolk barely had time for celebration. The nobles, the house of Wykes, rarely threw public parties. Various problems lead to the downfall of house Wykes. The ore was running low, gas leaks escaped from the mines, and the town was under constant attack by various invaders. Cracking under pressure, the town collapsed first with a citizen riot, then an invasion. The only survivor was a young Cristine Wykes, who was found later by a knight sent by the king to investigate. At her young age, Cristine was unable to give any detailed information. Cristine later became a knight. She saw one battle as an enlisted soldier. Private Wykes was not so stellar, but she managed to take a few lives without ending up dead herself. Soon enough, she became Sergeant Wykes.
Equipment: A sword, a shield, a sword breaker, and a pocket knife. Her sword is forged of steel and about as long as her upper body. She uses a heater shield with her family crest on it. The Wykes family crest is a crescent moon shape with the open end facing up with two crossed swords in the middle. Under the moon is the family motto: SUA SPONTE.
Abilities: Strength, endurance, and speed which come from being a knight. She is also a capable horseman.

[User] "Um... Miss Palayen... don't you think looking so angrily at everyone might drive them away?" the already pre-recruited nun wondered, continuing to sit beside the diminutive paladin and very carefully keeping hold of her drink. Unlike the alcohol-averse paladin, Sophia had no real dislike for it... not that she wanted to get inebriated before a mission, but it would have been unsightly to sit in here and not order something. Plus, unlike her more dangerous companion, the harpy really didn't like drinking milk. It was one of those things her people had absolutely no ability to procure naturally, after all.

[Assistant]
"Please, Lady Tanya," said the third occupant of the table. "Such behaviour will do little but draw the attention of unsavoury sorts!" he advised. He was tall, almost abnormally so, and his handsome face was framed by his longer-than-regulation hair. He had a small glass of a red liquid in front of him and had been sipping on it all eve. If he had earned the ire of his companions while doing so, well, he gave every indication that he didn't notice.

His name was Marc Ferrus, and he was also a Paladin. Armed with only his short sword and also out of his armor, he looked far more at ease here than his other paladin cohort did. Perhaps it was due to his gentle, easygoing nature. It wasn't hard to fit in with people. He had certainly made a lot of friends on the way here.

"Miss Sophia is right," Marc continued, nodding to their harpy friend. She was truly a noble ally in the fight for justice. "A gentle touch is required here. And perhaps a mite of shifty-ness." Did he really just say that? The honest, good natured Paladin who would never lie on his honour proposing something shifty? Well, he was standing up now, and moving towards the bar. Quiet words were exchanged between the barkeep man and the astonishingly tall paladin, before Marc turned to address the bar.

"Friends! We are embarking upon a great quest, but we have limited openings!" he boomed. "The first individuals we deem worthy for our quest will receive free drinks for the remainder of the eve! Truly a tempting offer, yes?"

That aught to get everyone's attention. Of course, all that talk about unsavoury sorts and Marc had forgotten it himself! Still, he'd see who rocked up.

[User]
Leander continued walking down the path, his staff making a small tapping sound every time he moved it further down the path. He was eager to find an inn, or at least some place with shelter, to stay the night. He had no interest in sleeping undefended, under only the night sky. As he walked, he eventually made his way to a tavern. Well, it was certainly better than the night sky. Leander grabbed his money bag and checked to see just how much he had left. Satisfied he had enough for a night's lodgings, he made his way inside.

Leander made his way past drunk adventurers and weary travelers to an empty seat at the counter. He was about to ask the bartender if a room was available when someone shouted something about the Prison-Castle. Normally, he would have ignored it. After all, it was usually a young fool who was lured in by the promise of treasure. What caught his attention this time, however, was that it was a paladin who spoke the invitation. Curious, he turned around to see who it was, and his eyes landed on a purple-haired woman of short stature.

Leander was rather curious as to why a paladin of all people would dare venture into the tomb of Mad King Haldric. After all, it was, quite literally, a collection of death traps and monsters. Plus, paladins weren't exactly known for being foolhardy. They must have some sort of mission. However, were they really so short staffed as to be forced to rely on the help of mercenaries? Or were the mercenaries merely cannon fodder? Either way, Leander was too curious to ignore this any longer.

Leander left his seat to approach the female paladin and her accomplice, as well as the other paladin who used a more... interesting method of recruitment for this mission of theirs. Leander had no interest in the alcoholic drinks, but perhaps he would join them anyway. "A paladin on a mission to the tomb of Mad King Haldric?" Leander asked Tanya. "I must admit, I am curious about this endeavor. Perhaps you will find it in your best interests to bring me along."

[Assistant]
Fieri Angharad looked up at the small, rotten palisade separating the supposed tomb of King Haldric the Eccentric, and undulated with anticipation. The tomb was uproariously popular, and many adventurers had visited it in the past. "The Breadwinner", they called it, thanks to its inexplicable supplies of meager wealth and self-replenishing supply of common foes to whet one's blade on. All it took to find the place was to line the palms of a nearby guard, forester, or farmer with copper. The path to it was very slightly overgrown, and the telltale depressions scattered along the path very clearly marked where previous bands of novice adventurers had rested.

With snakelike agility, Fieri wormed her way through one of the many holes in the palisade, and began the trek up the hill to the castle's ruined gates. All she knew of this place was that it was a reliable way to find easily-enchanted equipment, and that it was a favored haunt of the kind of person that would gladly leap headfirst into the wild blue yonder for nothing but some enchanted junk. The only hard part here, Tieri thought, is finding someone to do it. She thumbed the hilt of her enchanted knife, and slithered up to the castle's main gates. For better or worse, she'd find adventurers, and she would sell things to them.

[User]
Sergeant Wykes had been on leave for quite some time. She believed she would have gotten word from the King should he have any issues which needed to be taken care of. At her low rank, they must have needed her for something! Escorting some nobles, capturing deserters, breaking out bandit dens... something! Wykes, or Cristine when she was out of uniform, spent a bulk of her time drinking. Her musculature had seemed to deterred many would-be suitors, and in some cases attracted some unwanted attention. She wasn't really embarrassed- or at least she didn't like to believe she was. Naturally, Sergeant Wykes preferred being in uniform to deter some more awkward conversations.

It wasn't long before the grizzled veteran had put down another drink. She knew it was killing her slowly, but couldn't help herself. "An-hick*" she attempted to speak, in a dizzied manner. It wasn't long before a young woman spoke, then another paladin with a bit more chest in his voice which caught Sergeant Wyke's attention.

"WORTHY!?" Sergeant Wykes shouted, standing up from her stool. "I'll show you worthy!" she said, walking over to the paladin in a drunken stupor. She sat, as the fourth seat of the table and held out her left arm, hand open. "You know what to do" the Sergeant challenged.

[Assistant]
"Indeed I do", a voice called from a darkened corner of the room. Al sauntered out, a cheeky grin on his face as he raised a large stein to his lips to chug some ale.

"Pwaaah~" he sighed, pushing the tiny paladin aside to sit across from the knight. Placing his arm on the table, he wrapped his fingers around Cristine's.
"Thanks for doing this. This is the first exciting thing to happen all night. They need more games here, you know." he smiled at Cristine.

[User]
The knight's eyes glowed and her nose puffed with pride. "Hmph!" she grunted. Sergeant Wykes expected the younger female paladin to respond, seeing as how she appeared to be the leader of the trio with the bigger male paladin, and the smaller bird-woman. Instead, Sergeant Wykes felt a thicker, courser hand than she had expected. Looking up from the hand, she had traced the arm to the body of a young male.

The eyes on the Sergeant widened slowly, and a barely noticeable blush had overcome her face. Sergeant Wykes had never touched a male before. Masculine as she liked to believe herself to be, she had never dreamed of touching a male. In fact, she had not even been so close with her male comrades in spite of the advances of the younger recruits.

She had to keep her bearing. "Alright" Sergeant Wykes announced, her mouth kept open. It was as though her lips were moving on their own. "Let's go then!" she said, applying pressure to push Al's arm down.

[Assistant]
"Let's go!" Al shouted back, and with a grunt, pushed against her hand. His muscles tightened as he turned his entire torso, yanking the knight from her chair and into the air. Turning his body around, he flailed Cristine around in a circle, before pulling her back down onto the table. The legs immediately gave way like a schoolgirl confessing to her crush, and the table collapsed onto the ground, the knight on top.

"...Miss, are you okay? Miss?"

[User]
Tanya let out a huff. Oh, she had to play nice with the people drinking their minds away here? Okay, fine, the kind of people she wanted would ideally be mostly sober and therefore would be very quick to pick up on any harsh words... but... whatever! Wouldn't they get lured in by the treasure in the ruined old castle? Sure, it was 'popular' in a manner of speaking, but there was a reason she had a target there. No-one had ever reached the lower two levels of the decaying ruin. And, indeed, shortly after the attempt to appeal for the creation of a party, a cloaked man approached.

"That depends on your skills," she said, simply, when he suggested that it may be in their best interest to take him along. If he was in actuality a pumpkin farmer wrapped up in a travelling cloak he would hardly be the useful sort to take into a dungeon, would he? Still, he was not likely to be a simple farmer if he was considering such an offer. "Sophia, if you'd like you can give him an explanation, for now..."

The short, purple-haired girl trailed off as a woman in the garb of the King's Army, smelling strongly of spirits, approached their table and slammed her arm down to challenge... whoever to an arm wrestling contest. Well, she wasn't going to dignify that. "... If you're here to ask about our mission, then you'll have to-"

Someone pushed her to the side. Tanya, not exactly being resistant to such a thing unprepared, stumbled off the bench and caught herself, Repharion's scabbard rattling against the wood. Furious, she swiftly stood up and turned to face a rather sizable man, who had shoved in to take the offer of an arm-wrestling competition.

"...You idiot..." Tanya's violet eyes narrowed. What kind of person did that? It wasn't like she'd been unnoticeable. "Are your heads as thick as the drink she's overindulged in?!"

Tanya gave a swift gesture towards the soldier. "This table's not for..."

She stared blankly as the results of the stupid arm-wrestling competition resulted in the table's legs giving out. After a moment of silence, the short paladin let out a sigh. There was no good expression of anger that truly covered this kind of situation. "... Well then, I'm sure the owner of this tavern is going to be thrilled when he sees that. Perhaps some, oh, I don't know, rational, logical thought may have been in order? Reon's Peace! Are you two even sober enough to understand my offer?!"

[Assistant] "I... am not a miss!" Cristine sat up to slap Al away. Her other arm, the one that had actually made contact with his, ended up in a mangled mess. It wasn't enough to be truly crippling, but still enough to be quite disgusting to look at. In other words, it was pain Sergeant Wykes was used to. The knight struggled as she attempted to stand up on her broken arm in her drunken state. "I" she hiccuped "I work for a living!"


[System]
Found the perfect picture
Nickname: Kron.
Age: 41
Were-species: Were-Crow
Abilities: As a black Feathered crow he has an easer time staying undetected while in the dark. As a Were-Crow he has a vast intelligence with the ability to change and "Adapt" to his surroundings. Alin has a amazing memory never really forgetting those he meant, always formal with his greetings Alin keeps his conversations short and to the point.
Favorite Song: Feel Good Inc. By Gorillaz
Back Story: Alin is a hired assassin always keeping his life on the line for the job at hand, sometimes he "forgets" the money and just lets them keep it. Alin has no feelings toward death never relishing his kills or ever boasting about his kills. Alin is always a calm and relax with a monotone voice to match, his childhood life is not one of the most exciting of life his mother and father both middle class and really long work hours spending what little time they had with him. At school he got exceptionally high grades never falling below a 80 even on his final exams. While not clear to himself he always found an interest in shiny things often stealing it to later stare at it with fascination.
Other: he has a Brügger & Thomet APR custom fitted for long and silent firing power, on top of that he has Night vision googles that he uses when in the dark or at night. Also A military grade hunting knife for Tactical reasons.

[User] "What do you mean 'a beast Nicolas Sarkozy'?!" He yelled into the phone as he sat in his room in his small New York apartment, he launched the phone into the wall in anger, completely destroying it. He began to think about what kind of beast could've made it to France and kill the former President. 'I need to get over there.' He thought as he quickly packed his bag, and carried his axe to his car in the back alley. Then he quickly drove to a shipping yard and met with one of his close contacts. After a few days on the wretched boat, he was in France. "Now the fun begins."

[Assistant]
The Australian heat hung thickly in the corners of the small dilapidated hut where Del waited patiently for her latest contract. Smuggler. That's what the client had called him, among many other more foul names, as he had dropped a small pouch of treasures into the woman's waiting hand. The Mortis name, although tainted by her mother, carried an assurance to it that encouraged most of her smarter clients to pay up front. Besides, most mortals had no desire to be caught in her serpentine stare more than once; they knew she was more than capable of finishing their "jobs". From a distance, Del heard the footsteps she'd been anticipating. In rhythm they walked closer and closer to the splintered wooden door, the ocean waves pushing against the sandy shore in full force as the moon shone authoritatively above. Her eyelids were gently shut, her body no more than a piece of the white-washed walls covered in fish netting, the footsteps had reached the steps now. A small exhale released from Del's body as her hands silently slid down to concealed twin daggers between her legs. Creeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak, the hinges wailed in protest as a taut, pale arm reached around the frame. The man was abnormally thin with dark, hollow eyes from what could only be hunger and fatigue. His bearded face had a long, recently clotted laceration stretching from his widow's peak to his neckline. Del could smell the semi-fresh wound even before her wicked eyes shot open. In a movement too quick for a mortal to perceive, Del's muscular arm was wrapped tightly around the fragile man's collar bone. She squeezed his back against her feminine body, the force constricting his exhausted lungs. Her sensual lips brushed against his ear as she whispered sinisterly, "Who else is hunting you, mortal?" The man made a few feeble attempts to loosen Del's grip on his body, but her wrists held firm. "I...can...ple, ca... brea..." Del rolled her eyes in annoyance before slightly releasing the man's chest. He choked on the musty air, grimy sweat rolling down his forehead, and faintly answered Del's question. "Emissaries. French emissaries." The man's sweat mingled with the salt of his tears as he began to plead, "Please, I have a family. I can give you information about the attack if you'll protect me from those..."

Before the smuggler could finish, Del clapped a hand over his filthy mouth. She held a warning finger against her throat as she pushed the man deep into the corner she had once been hiding in. He remained fearfully silent as Del crept towards the open door, listening intently. In an instant, her fingers curled around the hilts of her daggers, lodging them securely into the broad neck that had just stumbled into the open room. The bulky Frenchman fell to the floor, his limbs writhing in silent agony as the poison worked its way throughout his body. Del straddled the dying man, crouching so low to his chest that her thighs brushed against his leather armor. She stroked her silken finger across his jawline before ripping her daggers from his flesh. A final grunt and spasm wrecked through him as Del casually stood and turned to face her original, cowering target. She grabbed the man be his weathered shirt collar and pulled him forcefully to face her. "I'm not one for small talk, but you've peaked my interest. What attack, and be quick about it... your little 'friend' has dampened my mood." With a trembling tongue the man enlightened Del about an attack in France which has supposedly killed someone of great importance. Despite his cowardice, he had spitefully added that the culprit was suspected to be a were-bastard. At this sentiment, Del cocked her head slightly and leaned in towards him. Her breath was hot against his nose and lips as she muttered, "A were-bastard saved your life..." His breathing became shallow as his widened eyes met Del's hypnotic gaze, "and subsequently ended it." She pressed her lips fiercely to his own, delivering her adder's venom with a flick of her tongue. She threw him to the floor and spat on both dead bodies before sauntering out the door.

Del swam gracefully through the dim ocean waters, creatures below slinking away at her fearsome presence. The waves lapped over her arms and legs and her mind raced with the words of her latest victim. It wasn't uncommon for her kind to attack mortals, there were many who did without any promise of monetary reward, but to kill the leader of a well-known country. She dove below the surface of the water as the wind impeded her visibility from above. Her scaled skin shone beautifully in the moonlight as she raced around the cape of Africa and through the cold Atlantic waters. She would reach France's shoreline by dawn, but her thoughts were plagued by what and who could possibly be waiting to greet her. She somersaulted playfully and bubbles trailed in her wake. On the other hand, she thought, a rendezvous in Paris would be exhilarating!

[User]
It was a cool, chill night along the Parisian waterways. Happy voices wafted over the water, coming from people happily eating in the many restaurants that lined the river. Happy people. Unsuspecting people. You see, the waterways were not calm at all. At least, on the surface they were, but under it, something was lurking which was certainly not calm, or happy. The waterways that snake across Paris made a perfect hunting ground for the Finned Beast. Lots of easy prey, people who sat with their legs dangling into the water. Some even swimming, oblivious, or maybe just in denial of the existence of the Beast. Who knows. Suddenly, a person sat down at a restaurant that prompted excited gasps and whispers from the people around him. Obviously someone importance. A pair of white eyes rose up from the river and looked over to the buzz of noise, waiting for something to be within striking distance.

The important man finished his dinner, and after taking a few pictures with eager people, and signing a few autographs, wandered over to the waters edge for a quick moment. This was what the Finned Beast was lying in wait for. A dark, sleek shape burst from the water, claws slashing and teeth bared for impact. The man screamed, as the Beast grabbed his ankle and pulled him into the water. The area was quickly filled with wide eyed people, who rushed over to see what the hell had happened. As flashlights were shined onto the surface, a sick red permeated the surface of the water, where a disembodied hand floated lifelessly on the surface. People gagged, threw up and cried. A dark fin was steadily heading away from the bloodied water, which people noticed and screamed at, but it was gone as nearly as it appeared.

A good way down the river, the Finned Beast was eating his latest catch. The prey had suffered no pain, his throat being cut by the Beast's teeth as soon as the prey went under the water. From there the Beast had carried his quarry down the river to a large hole in the concrete sides of the water, where it heartily devoured the prey. In less than an hour there would be only scraps left.

Of course, the Finned Beast had no concept, or idea, or the ramifications of its actions. No idea of the importance of its latest prey. No idea of the chaos he would cause. It was just a predator. And predators hunt.

[Assistant] "huh, well this is new" peering down the scope of his Brügger & Thomet APR as he watched the killing unfold and as soon as he took notice of the fin disappearing deeper into the water. Alin quickly followed in suit yanking a cellphone out his pocket dialing the contact number of his client he speaks a few clear words on the phone. "Target is dead, deposit the money in the agreed location." Knowing that the money would be ready for him to pick up once he is done in Paris, After the phone call he threw the phone into the waterway still intent on following the more out of curiosity then anything else.


[System]
Alias: Fringe, formerly The Fringed Spider

Appearance:

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Hometown: Shanghai, China

Biography: From her early days back home in China, Jin always knew she would rise above the ranks and take the world by storm with her scientific ideas and inquiries. A lone daughter, Jin understood stress and how the people around her viewed her, but she wasn't going to let anything stop her form reaching the top.

Jin majored in mechanical engineering, and soon found a job with the Shanghai branch of Aprico, testing and developing equipment that would help further humanity.

However, unlike the rest of the world, her story started before The Boom. Among technological advancements, Aprico is also heavily invested in genetic work as well. The smallest animals had the most potential while also having the lowest risk in the event anything happened. Fringe was unlucky enough to have been bitten by one of Aprico's genetically modified test subjects, A Portia Fimbriata - The Fringed Spider. Since her bite, Jin was sharper than ever. Her mind was more flexible than she ever thought possible, and her vision was enhanced so much she needed such a thick prescription in order to not get a headache from information overload.

These powers could not go to waste, she told herself. Every advantage she was given, she would use to the fullest extent. She couldn't, wouldn't let herself sit idly by while people were getting hurt out in the streets, so she took to vigilantism in the hours she was not at work. She had no name, no face. Simply a do-gooder who helped protect the people of Shanghai.

And then it happened. Aprico asked her to move to their founding establishment in Bell Reach California. How could she say no? This was the step up in life she was waiting for. To finally be in the biggest league of them all and to change the future in ways that her masked counterpart could not. She could show her face, she could get recognition for her efforts.

Unfortunately, you don't get a lot of praise when you're a shut-in.

Moving to America was a massive change for Jin. Half way around the world and there was nothing there that her advanced mind could predict. She spent all of her time at the lab or at home, but this pattern of work and seclusion caught the eye of a family living in the same building as her.

Cliff Riley, an electrician and maintenance adviser, lived just down the hall from Jin. He had seen her go to and from work nearly every day without so much as a word to her new neighbors, but respected her enough to keep his distance. As days turned into weeks, and Jin seemed more stressed with every passing day, Cliff, his wife May, and their surrogate son Peter decided to be the welcome wagon.

The three helped her out of her shell and become more acclimated to her new surroundings. Young Peter was just entering high school and needed a tutor. What time she once spent at her own home, was now spent with the Rileys. As much as she loved the Riley family, she could not tell her about her burden, her past. The Riley family was remarkable in the fact that none of them seemed to have developed powers, but Jin was ahead of the curve. In a city of heroes, she wanted to lay low.

About a year in, tragedy struck. Cliff Riley was murdered in a mugging, leaving behind his wife and nephew. It hit Jin hard, to lose such a kind and welcoming man, but she could only imagine how hard it was for May and Peter. Soon, all of her time was once again consumed by work, but in a different sense.

Jin began developing technology using Aprico equipment. Special technology, that would allow her to ascend beyond her already sturdy power set. Inspired by the spider that started this path, she embodied it, and swore that she would protect the People of Bell Reach in any way that she could. Fringe was born. They Rileys were and would always be a priority, but now there was even less free time for her. Work, patrolling, and helping May and Peter took up all of her time.

And she couldn't be happier.

Personality: Almost quippy to a fault, Jin considers herself a master of conversation. She will always push to do more, to push her limits farther and farther every day. Despite all of her quips, her tone doesn't have a lot of snark. In fact, she speaks quite genuinely. Fringe has been known to speak highly of her villains and how they've progressed since the last time she fought them. However, she can be quite stubborn when things get to her. Her focus tunnels, and her interest becomes obsession until she can put the problem in front of her to rest.

Skillset: Mechanical engineering whiz - Jin displays a wide base of knowledge about the sciences in general, but mechanical engineering is her core subject. Science is always a helpful tool to have when you're moving at breakneck speeds around the city.
Bilingual - Learning English was hard, but she did it. She speaks the language with relative ease, and can translate back and fourth between Chinese and English at will.

Athleticism and martial arts training - She might be a woman of science, but Jin was never one to refuse a challange of any sort. Even before her powers, Jin was quite athletic, and her spider bite helped her keep in shape despite a long period of rest when transitioning from China to America. Those skills have only increased since getting her powers, and combined with her intense focus, little can get past her.

Powers: Adhesion - Like a spider, Jin has the ability to cling to walls and nearly all surfaces. Her ability to cling is like a muscle, so she isn't just stuck on everything she touches.

Adaptive mind - A unique feature of the Fringed Spider is how quick and adaptive it is to new situations. Her brain was once a TI-82 calculator, and now runs more like a supercomputer, however, this does not mean she isn't immune to information overload.

Peerless vision - another feature of her spider is ti's incredible vision, which paired with it's complex and adaptive mind allows for Jin to see impossibly far away and take in almost microscopic details with only her eyes. However, in her normal day, she is required to wear thick glasses to dampen her vision to a level that won't give her a headache.

Spider Sense - A sort of enhanced instinct that reveals to Jin any signs of immediate danger. There are ways to circumvent this, and the sense can be ignored, but it is tied strongly to reflexes, forcing jin to often move entirely on instinct.

Tools and Equipment: Fringe Suit - Modeled after a Qipao and martial arts garb, the lose appearance of her costume hide's thick padding and gadgets of her own design. The helmet is also heavily padded on the inside, and the lenses are made out of a variable material not unlike an LCD screen which filters heavier and lighter for different degrees of vision.

Web shooters - what kind of spider can't shoot webs? Even though the Fringed Spider isn't know for impressive web making, Using webs to swing around Bell Reach has given her an advantage that wouldn't have been accessible without somehow getting more powers.
Additional Information:

Name: Trent Folley
Alias: Tritus
Appearance:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Hometown: Bell Reach, California
Biography: Young Trent Folley, former surf-dog of Hewlis Highschool right in the heart og Bell Reach. Born to a family of realty agents making just the biggest bank on a booming supercity. Despite living rather comfortably, Trent was never home. Scraping by in school, but excelling in sports, Trent knew that his home would always be his home. School wasn't his place, neither was an office. He needed to be out, living life.

The waves were always his home. Out at the beach, riding waves from dawn till dusk, Trent found work helping people move their beach equipment for a few bucks before he could work legally, and started as a lifeguard the day he turned sixteen. The day his awakening happened was a day he would never forget. At the ripe age of sixteen and working at the lifeguard stand, there was an emergency for someone who had been caught by the tide and was swept out far. As soon as the bell sounded, Trent grabbed his board and headed out. He never paddled so hard in his life, but that was because it wasn't the paddling them kept him moving. Trent was gifted with the ability to manipulate water, but it did come with a few catches. Heroes started popping up, but Trent knew his place. The beach was his home, and he would protect everyone there.

Now, nineteen, Trent works multiple jobs at Bell Reach Beach. Lifeguarding, managing surf shacks, even teaching surf and swim classes to anyone who was interested. This was his life, and he wouldn't have it any other ways.
Personality: Pretty stereotypical and average as far as californian surfers go. Peace loving and wanting nothing more than to solve everyone's problems with a good wave and a lovely sunset, though he understands the dangers of his surroundings. He's surprisingly keen and sensible despite his most obvious features, and shows a great deal of love for both the people and animals that make his beach their playground. The Nickname Tritus came from mashing Triton, the herald of the sea, and Titus, the famed emperor. Despite starting low, any regulars to the beach know that Trent is in charge, but a kind and just watcher of the waves.
Skillset: EMT Medical training - Trent went above and beyond when it came to prepping to be a lifeguard. Didn't stop at just the weekend red-cross classes, he took the ladder all the way to the top to make sure he could help anyone and everyone that came his way.
Knowledge of marine and coastal animals - another perk of living where the land meets the sea, Trent knows how to handle and take care of any animals that get too close to the shore safely and humanely
Powers: Water Manipulation - Trent can manipulate water by extending his consciousness through it, though this requires a physical connection to the water in order to work. When in the ocean, Trent is king, moving and making waves as he wants, but out on land, his use of his powers becomes much more limited.
Aquatic Physiology - his connection to water doesn't simply stop at being able to move it around as he wishes. Trent was also gifted with a number of abilities that allow him to thrive in the water.
Tools and Equipment: Smartphone - of course, no way to know the world than without the use of a phone.
Surf board - carved by himself and a friend, Trent never steps into the water without his board
Additional Information:

[User] She had just finished her food when she heard the sirens and saw the smoke. Frick she fixed her mask and went camouflaged. She took a running jump off the building and leaped to the next one below it shooting out her black ropes (I don't want to call them webs but I don't know what else to call them) as a staff to stop her fall. She kept from roof to roof till she made it too the fire. She crouched on the roof of the building next to it, most seemed to be in the middle of being dealt with and she wasn't sure if she was needed. Then she saw somebody on the second floor looking out the window, a teenager. She jumped to the wall of the building and stopped being in camouflage. She shot a thread down to the ground and helped the teen out the went into the building to scout it out and find more civilians, she found herself with other heroes but didn't really acknowledge them, she was busy.

[Assistant]
David calmly watched as several other hero's, or rather vigilantes if one wanted to get technical, rushed towards the flaming inferno, intent on rescuing those who were still trapped within. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bandana he'd taken from his apartment, David pulled it against his mouth and nose before tying the two excess strips of cloth into a tight knot that wrapped snuggly around the back of his skull. Pulling his grey hood over his head to help further conceal his identity, David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he opened his eye's and watched as the movement of the world around him slowed to a crawl.

Stepping past the police cordon, David ran towards the burning building at full speed with his hand raised in front of his face in a vain attempt to block some of the intense heat radiating from the firestorm. To the outside observer, it appeared as though a grey blur had just shot through the area and into the collapsing store, but to David the world around him moved at a snail's pace, events seeming to drag on for ages as he ran through the flames, smoke, and ash billowing from the buildings entrance. Once in inside, he began to make his way towards the very back of the store, all while doing his best to avoid falling debris raining down from the crumbling ceiling above his head.


[System]
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Personality: Feon is very upbeat to the point of being annoying. She does have a bit of a dark side though, as she has been known to lose control. She has no problem with killing others, sometimes she may even do it on "Accident".
Appearance:

Height: 5'4, Orange eyes, Orange Hair, Weight: 120 pounds
Cup size: Washboard

Magic level: Medium
Type: Caster
Specialization: Support/Enhancement Magic
Style: Melee
Physical mutation: Some the skin on her arms and legs as well as abdomen is rather tough due to her constant use of skin hardening magic.
Spells: Shield magic, Speed enhancement magic, Strength enhancement, Weapon enhancement, Healing enhancement, Invisbility, Weight enhancement
Equipment: Two Daggers, each with what looks like a sapphire in the hilts.
Title: Two faced Enchanter.
History: Details will be revealed in IC.
Feon was born into a rich family. She started to learn magic at around the age of 5 through some private tutoring. When she was 7 she was taken away from her family and held hostage for days. However her family never sent anyone for her, instead after awhile her kidnappers started to grow impatient and as such started to take it out on Feon. They started to beat her almost daily. After about a week of beatings Feon suddenly snapped. The moment she got her hands on a knife she started to go crazying stabbing each of her kidnappers multiple times. She came out of the kidnapping, to her parents who feigned excitement to see her back. Feon left her family at the age of 14 and started to travel the world. She started to see the brighter things in life on her travels. Thus she became a much brighter person. She eventually joined the Dragoon Guild at age 23 with much excitement, hoping that she would find even more adventures with the guild.

[User]
Hiryu slid to a halt as immediately as his body would let him, but he was in the middle of the cloud of floating cards. They were revolving axially in place.

"Teleport through this," mocked Heath before snapping his right fingers. On his command the cards spread out in random direction, ricocheting off the sides of the trailer and back again at the others sides. Hiryu did try to phase through, but it was pointless. Hiryu couldn't track the path of the cards no matter where he moved to. The card motions didn't just cut at Hiryu, but marred him with the imbue magic on impact. By the end of the attack, the sliding hatch to the trailer was slightly ajar, after a few of the cards detached the lock and the speed of the train made a gust burst through the now open hatch. Hiryu was hunched over, barely classifiable as on his feet, with cards of red, blue and yellow prodding out of him, much like the merchant. He had a particularly bad cut on his shoulder, where the card did a through-and-through. Heath was standing opposite him, enough markless. "And you come from an official guild right? And yet... what an ametuer-" jibbed Heath before throwing a trio of cards at Hiryu's head.

...Luckily for Hiryu, out of the corner of his eye he could see through the ajar hatch that the train was on the bridge over the river. He jumped to the side, at the wall, phasing through on last time out of the train. On the train, Heath saw the flash of his cards hitting Hiryu, but the only thing still in front of him was a headband, smeared at one part with a splatter of blood. Heath caught the end of the band before it completely fell to the ground, curious at first, but then realised this was Hiryu's headband and the the mage must have teleported. He looked around, spotting the ajar hatch and swung it open to look out. The sudden swoosh of the door brought with it a great gust of wind as the train was still moving at full speed. Heath lost his hat as it took away from him and fluttered down into the river below. Through watching his hat, Heath noticed Hiryu falling behind it, rocketing like a meteor into the bed below. He raised an eyebrow as Hiryu crashed into the river, his hand clenching the headband and closing the hatch door with a sigh.

"Now to wait to get off this damn train..." he muttered.

[Assistant]
Feon smiled as the axe man looked paniced as Feon lunged her hand right into his chest. She was able to do this thanks to the strength enchantment she was using. Feon sqeezed the man's heart untill he was finally dead. She stood up as one of the lower henchmen watched in terror. The henchman quickly ran for his life along with a few others. Even the merchant was afraid of Feon after seeing her go crazy and lose control.

Feon turned towards the merchant and walked towards him. Suddenly Feon was all calm and excited like she was before. "Now that he's gone let's get you out of here!" Feon said holding out a bloody hand to help him up. Feon had quite a few blood splatters but she didn't really care as thankfully her cloths has been previously enchanted to not get stains.

Feon started to head off after slapping a speed enchantment on herself and the merchant. Feon hadn't seen Hiryu in a while and was starting to get worried. After finding a safe place for the merchant she started to head out to look for him, she followed the train tracks hoping to find him sooner or later. At this point Feon's strength, skin, and weapon enhancement had worn off of her.

[User]
Once the freighter train finally made a stop on the other side of the bridge in a mining town, Heath burst out of the train and looked around. he had stuffed Hiryu's head band into his pocket. He began a walked towards the bridge and river. He pulled out a unique whistle and blew. It began to glow with an ethereal hue and an otherworldly melody came out the other end. At the originally robbery point, Heath's steed suddenly pointed it's ears up and then glanced in the direction of sound with animation it had not expressed up to this point. It immediately began to gallop, trailing alongside the tracks and onto the walkway underneath the train tracks. Heath eventually met his steed before the bridge, settling him with gentle strokes to the snout and letting him rest after galloping all the way to him. Heath led the horse back across the bridge, choosing to get on once they were clear of the overpath and away from the tracks. He was still a little riled after being teleported onto a speeding train so suddenly. Heath, while riding his steed, came across Feon heading in the opposite direction, surprised to see her both intact and alone.

"Bumping into you again can't mean anything good missy, unless you're just a ghost wandering the range for vengeance and retribution..." he mused out loud once he could assess who was in front of him.

[Assistant]
Feon looked at the cowboy approaching her on a horse. "Yes I'm a ghost, and I'm just looking for my partner." Feon said acting sarcastic as she casually got out her daggers while slapping a hardening spell on herself.

Feon at this point was starting to use up too much of her magic by constantly reapplying these enchantments. "So, how do you want this to go? Are you going to just run away? Or do I have to kill you?" Feon asked casually as she rested a hand on her hip still with the dagger in it still. "I have to wonder if your partner was stronger than you, if that's true then you going to have a tough time taking me down." Feon added.

She was hoping that by acting tough this man may back down and just leave her to go find Hiryu. Feon was a bit tired now from running all over the place even after her little nap.

[User] "Mighty cute lil lady. Funny to boot. It's funny cuz I was thinking to ask you the same question..." rebutted Heath, before pulling into his pocket and pulling out Hiryu's head band, letting it hang from his hand in all of its glory. He then smugly shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands. "Eh - no use cryin' over spilt milk. I'm fine to just call it even. I don't know what job the merchant paid you two lovebirds to do, but I know if you're stupid enough to still be around here with nothing to show for it... you have no clue what he's brought you into." Heath glanced at the band in his hand, nonplussed before placing it back in his pocket. "I thought the nomad was onto something when he put me on the train. Hell, maybe he did figure out- doesn't matter now..." Heath kick firmly at the rear of his saddle and his steed continued to trot. "Be careful missy. It's dangerous out here on the range... bandits all over the place." spoke Heath over his shoulder as he attempted to leave.

[Assistant]
Feon looked at Heath and gave a rather sadistic smirk. "If he brought us into something that allows me to kill lots of enemies then I would say he got the right people. And bandit's are no issue, it's idiots who think they can take on me." Feon said to him as she started to walk away from Heath. She had seen the headband, but she knew that Hiryu was tough enough to not die so easily. And smart enough to know when to play dead.

Once Feon was far enough away from Heath she started to look for Hiryu. She was actually a bit mad at Hiryu for giving up so quickly, and chances were the moment she saw him there would be a slap to the face atleast, if he found a way to anger her further there would most likely be a kick to the balls as well.

[User]
Heath directed his steed towards the bandit hideout. He was surprised to return to their proving grounds to see it in such a state. He began by just taking in the destruction and pandemonium that obviously took place. Soon enough, Heath began searching and scouring for what he came for. If he could locate it at the very least this operation would be salvageable. There was a lot of product on the merchant's wagon. Seeing as he couldn't get a whiff of anything quickly, Heath deduced that it was no longer here. While searching around, Heath realised he wasn't alone. He looked to the makeshift throne the bandit leader poised for himself. Sure enough Hiryu was sitting there, poorly bandaged, damp, red stains smearing his clothes and even breathing heavily.

"Now... you must be a ghost come back to haunt me," jeered Heath, turning to Hiryu with his cocky smile and making a saunter. Hiryu sat up with a large sigh, but said nothing. Heath glance around again at the scene. "You did this?" Heath asked, pointing at the dead, bloody bodies and trashed affairs. Hiryu shook his head. "Well... even if you did, I can't I'd even care enough to do something about it. The thing on the train... you just pissed me off by hijacking me onto that train," explained Heath turning to leave the cave, immediately thinking back to Feon and assuming she knew where to find his product.

"...You won't find the Lacrima," interjected Hiryu. His words sent a chill down Heath's spine. His expression switched to that of someone who had actually just seen a ghost. Heath thought for a moment, and turned back to Hiryu with a smile.

"If I don't get back the Lacrima, you won't get back the girl," replied Heath, remembering that the two had yet to meet.

"You don't have her." replied Hiryu confidently. Heath gritted his teeth.

"And how do I know you have the lacrima?"

"...You don't," replied Hiryu with a shrug. Heath, finding Hiryu coyness irritating now, took three bold steps towards Hiryu and pulled out Hiryu's head band.

"I already left you for dead falling hundreds of feet to your doom!" replied Heath, his tone much more forceful now than ever before. Hiryu leaned forward a little more, reaching for something behind his back, pulling out Heath's cowboy hat, also similarly wet.

"You did..." replied Hiryu. Heath gasped softly, but then laughed at the scenario of them both holding each others head gear.

"Ignoring all the other stuff for now, I bet you I'll get my hat back before you do, partner." Heath gested, dropping Hiryu's headband to the floor and walking forward. He drew a deck from his breast pocket and began shuffling them with immaculate dexterity. Hiryu threw Heath's hat down in front of himself and stood up, walking passed it. He began rotating his arm at the shoulder joint, stretching.

"...You wont." before the two of them engaged once again.

[Assistant]
Feon turned after Heath was far enough away and had started to follow him. After awhile she saw Heath go into a building and start searching. She saw Hiryu there as well and decided to stay quiet while the two talked. Feon was a bit disappointing that Hiryu had taken out the bandits without her. I really need to invest in some communication tools. Feon thought to herself, she figured that it would make things far easier in future missions if she did.

 Once the two started their fight Feon got out her daggers and started to run towards Hiryu at full speed. She had a speed and increased healing enchantment ready as she ran at him. Feon slapped the two enchantments onto Hiryu figuring he would have the most use of them. At this point though Feon could only use three more enchantments before she was out of the day. She had her dagger out and still had her skin hardening spell active along with her own speed enchantment.