[System]
Age: 17

Heritage: The son of Hatter Madrail. Ghent's mother was murdered a few years after he was born.

Adoptive parents: Frederick and Elise Preston. Elise was the first to find Hatter's son; she was astonished to discover him in the woods near their home, disoriented and impossibly lost.

Appearance: Thick, medium length black hair. The style is unpredictable, but the layers sometimes give it an unruly appearance. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, which are blue in color and have a sharp, piercing quality to them. The rest of his features are dark and seem to contrast against his paler-than-should-be skin. He has a lithe build and currently stands at 5'9", but has about a year left to grow.

Distinguishing Marks: A few light freckles running across the bridge of his nose. A more noticeable one is underneath his left eye. He has a small scar underneath his jaw.

Clothes Wear: Whatever's comfortable. He usually wears hoodies, jeans, worn out sneakers, and three quarter/graphic t-shirts.

Abilities: Strength and magic, both inherited from his race. As far as magic goes, Ghent was completely unaware of the ability until Drust and Elayra came to earth. Understandably, he is inexperienced but has the potential to become better with practice.

Weapons: A staff, given to him on page 13.

Personality: It's no secret that Ghent can be a pain. He isn't malicious, but he enjoys pushing the buttons of others in order to get a reaction out of them. His sarcasm usually lands him in trouble, but his past experiences haven't been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Despite his immaturity, he has a good heart. Ghent has lazy tendencies, but can be hard working with proper motivation.

Major Positive Traits: Compassionate. Empathetic. Hardworking (sometimes).

Major Negative Traits: Sarcastic. Cocky. Klutz. Impulsive. Awkward.

Weaknesses: At times, Ghent doubts himself and his abilities. The fear of failure usually prevents him from achieving success. Having lived in two worlds, he struggles with deciding where he belongs and where his loyalties lie.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Fidgets a lot, often with the drawstrings of his hoodies. When he's faced with a situation he can't wrap his mind around, he will pace and/or mumble to himself until he can make sense of what's happening.  Tags: "Cut me some slack!" "Great." "Wait, what?"

Fears: Ghosts. Failure. Being unable to return home. Wonderland in general.

Short Bio: Ghent's story could have been a tragic one, had he not been found. He was discovered in a forest as a toddler, and later adopted by the very family that took him in.
 For much of his childhood, Ghent lived in the comforts of a small farmhouse in the country. Life was serene, quiet, and good. He grew up happy and healthy, with a mother who doted on him and a dedicated, hardworking father.
 Things changed when they moved. Seeking better employment, Mr. Preston uprooted his family to the city, which is where they remained for the years that followed.
 The city posed many differences and challenges, but Ghent learned to adapt and knew his way around. Unfortunately, street smarts didn't help much in school.
 As Ghent grew older, the nightmares and flashbacks became more frequent. Different events or images would trigger a memory, many of which involved Elayra and Drust. The memories confused and frightened Ghent. He never forgot Wonderland, but he learned to stop talking about it after his parents sought him professional help. It was something his mother made the mistake of telling her longtime friend, Mrs. Saxon.
 News spread and rumors started. High school proved to be Ghent's biggest obstacle. He became an easy target for jokes and ridicule, and his grades began to suffer for it.
 Motivated by money and the desire to help his family financially, he began to take on odd jobs. His fifth job turned out to be his favorite: a part-time shift at Frank's Book Barn.
 Even there, Ghent wasn't free from Wonderland. Flashbacks would hit him at the most inconvenient times…and they didn't cease until became reunited with two important faces from his past.

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

Appearance:  Henry is thin, wiry, with no muscle tone whatsoever. He makes an effort to look neat, but his untamed shock of ginger hair betrays him by looking a mess and his freckles are out of control. When reading, he wears thick black glasses over his large, brown eyes that give him an owlish appearance.

Clothes wear: Henry wears an odd mix of clothing. Most of his clothes are hand-me-downs from previous cousins, including Ghent. When his options are limited, he can be found wearing faded graphic t-shirts (he favors Disney ones) and jeans that have been rolled up at the cuffs in order to fit.

Personality: Despite a rocky home life, Henry remains optimistic, but he has a sensitive side that results in him crying at the drop of a hat. Although he has a sweet, childlike innocence about him, he isn't foolish. He's remarkably intelligent and has a great love for reading and learning. Because of his OCD, Henry is always cleaning and organizing, and likes to keep busy in order to make himself useful. His desire for perfect order can be a little overwhelming at times, but he means no ill intent and has great respect for his family and friends.

Bio: Henry is an only child who never longed for the company of a sibling. Growing up in the country, he had plenty of family and cousins to spend his time with. The families all lived quite close in the rural area, including the Preston family.
 Even as a toddler, Henry was fascinated by Ghent and seemed to gravitate towards him, viewing him as an older brother figure. To the delight of their parents, the three year age gap and a difference in personality didn't prevent the two boys from getting along.
 After the Preston family moved to the city, Henry was heartbroken. The families kept in touch when possible, making multiple visits during the holidays. The visits lessened over the years, but Henry took it upon himself to keep in touch through any means possible. To Elise's delight (and to Frederick and Ghent's dismay) Henry has been known to leave long rambling phone messages, sends more texts than a teenage girl, and writes letters so long, they need to be mailed in multiple envelopes.
 Henry is the only one Ghent continued to trust with his few memories of Wonderland. Their efforts to uncover the mystery were admirable, but brought nothing but disappointment and wild theories. Eventually, a disgruntled Ghent gave up, but Henry continued to search for the truth behind his cousin's past.

[User]
"You're probably right." This was one of the rare moments where Ghent and Elayra could agree on something without arguing beforehand. The bandwagon of denial was going along smoothly until Drust hit them with the cold hard facts. "Or...not."
 Doubt began to creep its way back into Ghent's thoughts. He could feel the sensation of magic gradually weaken, which only helped to chip away at the confidence he built for himself. Alright, so maybe a few magic classes wouldn't hurt.
 Concerned that he was already losing his powers, Ghent attempted to read Elayra without making it obvious. Could she feel the magic fade too? He couldn't tell. Danger lurked around every corner, he needed to make sure he still had a way to defend himself.
 "Hey, guys? I couldn't help but notice that...woah." Ghent's words caught in his throat when the gate came into view. He couldn't deny the familiarity of the sight before him, he had seen this place countless times before. This was the setting for many of the nightmares and dreams he experienced as a child.
 "I don't think I could forget this if I wanted to." Ghent looked on in awe, taking in every detail, mesmerized by every heart and weathered stone. To stand in the place that haunted him for years was a surreal feeling. Seeing the gate no longer frightened him, it reassured him that he had been right all along.
 "I used to have the same dream...but it always ended here." Ghent stopped alongside of Drust and Elayra, his eyes never straying from the intricate metal doors. "The three of us were always in it, and it always ended the same way. After I stepped through the doors, I'd look back...and you weren't there anymore."
 Moving his backpack so that it rested evenly between both shoulders, Ghent nodded to the knight. "I guess you've found the fountain of youth, Drust. I know I've said it before, but you've barely changed." 'Barely' was accurate. In age, Drust looked about the same as he did, but Ghent knew the curse took a heavy toll on him. The darkness threatening to take over his eyes was evidence of that.
 "You've changed more though, Blondie." Ghent used his hand to measure the distance from his knee to the cobblestone ground. "You were just a bit shorter than you are now," he teased, amused by the memory of Elayra as a cute little toddler. Fourteen years later, here they were again. It didn't feel real.
 "Wish I remembered more." Sighing softly, Ghent ventured a few steps closer to get a better look. In the grand scheme of things, he knew remembering an old rusty gate wasn't all that impressive or helpful. "It's weird. I never forgot about you two...but I can't even remember my own parents."

[Assistant]
Elayra glanced to Ghent when he addressed her and Drust, only to trail off at the sight of the decaying gate. At the boy's answer to her question, she nodded, content that he at least remembered something of Wonderland.
 Drust stopped a few feet from the filigree designs of the gate, waiting for it to open for them as Ghent began his account of his reoccurring dream. His shoulders and jaw stiffened as the boy finished. Regret and guilt flashed in his gaze before his expression hardened to the beat of the hungry Curse threatening to consume the glazed crimson of his eyes.
 Elayra stopped beside Drust and glanced between him and the gate as Ghent commented on their appearances.
 Drust snorted and his lips rose in a bitter smile as he looked sideways at Ghent. "White Knights age differently," he answered laconically.
 Elayra scowled at Ghent's favorite nickname for her. She crossed her arms. "Shame, isn't it?" Her glare turned into a smirk. "You actually used to be cute."
 She shrugged stiffly as he finished speaking. "Maybe it's better you don't. Wouldn't matter now, anyway."
 Elayra's attention snapped to Drust, and a hand reached instinctively across her body to her sword when the man's face twisted in angered frustration. At first, she thought it had been her comment, but then he stepped toward the gates. This time, they had not opened for them.
 Drust gripped them and tugged, hard. A shimmer glistened over the enchanted ironwork and the stone heart blinked to life with a single, short-lived pink spark. His strength made its hinges rattle defiantly, but still it did not budge.
 His head twitched as he bent it with a low growl at the gate.
 "Drust?" Elayra stepped cautiously toward him, moving a hand to usher Ghent behind her. Her grip on her sword's hilt tightened when Drust spun around, the blade sliding an inch from its sheath.
 To her relief, the Curse had not taken him, though not for lack of trying.
 His gaze settled on Ghent. "Looks like we get to test your abilities." He jerked his head toward the gate, Elayra unsure if it was intentional, or another tick. "Without an active portal, it's locked itself to protect what remains. It won't open. Not willingly." Drust stepped aside. "A magic boost might help convince it."


[System]
Age: 22

Gender: Female

Personality: Emily goes through life at a relaxed pace, even when everyone around her is in a rush. She leaves no page unturned and no decision unplanned, quietly confident in herself and those around her. She is very logical and doesn't bring attention to herself, yet she enjoys the finer things in life and is thus commonly seen wearing...well, things like in her picture. She practices tai chi and is known to meditate on occasion. All this doesn't mean she has no sense of humor, however; she's always searching for a song to sing and a laugh to share.

Background: Emily had an idyllic upbringing, raised in the suburbs by an upper middle class family. She quickly decided to refuse financial assistance from anyone (especially her parents), viewing "old money" as undeserved. When old enough to work, she started from scratch, working anywhere that would hire her. A string of jobs including receptionist jobs, a long stint at Chipotle and the occasional modeling gig eventually earned her enough money to afford higher education, and she enrolled in college as soon as she could. Studying to become an architect, she now works a part-time job as a receptionist for the university. Although she has a steady flow of income, the lucrative nature of Project Olympia combined with her scientific "why not?" conclusion drew her to the experiment.

Chosen Pill Color: Maroon

Other: Emily can often be found with headphones on her ears. She usually serenades herself to the sweet sounds of the Alan Parsons Project, and enjoys singing despite never taking any lessons or being in choir.

[User]
"Oooh, making costumes already? Do mine, too!" Felyse spoke up from his spot on the couch – the one that was in front of the giant computer screen where he watched the other's playing Halo – and looked up from his bag of ranch Doritos he was once so focused on. Tossing the chips to the side, he crawled his way to the back of the couch, resting his head against the palm of his hands, as he watched Penelope work her magic around the sewing machine.

"I want a black hoodie with lime green patterns. Same thing with my mask; although, something that covers my whole head and faceless." Unconsciously, Felyse combed the strands of hair beneath his chosen hat-of-the-day with a hand. White with red tips – his hair stood out more than what his envisioned hero outfit ever would be. Like a watermelon snow cone amidst the tundra. There was always the option of dyeing, buuuuut that would be an attack on his individuality… also, his lazy side was opting out. As an extra precaution – and a security blanket – he got a brand new hat all picked out for mission impossible; although, truthfully, the headgear was more for aesthetic effect than anything else.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched his teammates going about. He grabbed the bag of chips and munched away. Research he could do, but planning away was a no-go; so he left that task to his more methodical comrades. "By the way, anyone got any heroic names all planned out?"

[Assistant]
Emily put her XBox controller down and turned around to look at Penelope, chuckling at her military uniform suggestion. "I don't need anything flashy," she replied. "As long as it's a comfortable, pretty dress, I'll be happy. I trust your fashion sense." She thought a moment. "Though, it could be flashy if everyone else's is," she opined. "I do like Tony Bowls."

Turning to Felyse, she said, "Being hyperintelligent doesn't mean I'm hyper creative too," she replied with a chuckle. "The name is always the hardest part - not even superpowers can change that."

Keeping her ears open for replies or new conversations from anyone in the room, Emily picked up her controller and turned her attention back to Halo.

[User]
Penelope chuckled, hearing Felyse ask her to do his. "I will, I will!" She called out, smiling. She nodded to him when he told her what he wanted and stopped what she was doing to write it all down. Black hoodie, lime green patterns... full mask. She nodded her head at her notes and then turned back to her work space to begin working on her own mask.

Penelope lifted a brow at Emily's remarks and chuckled. "Nah, I wasn't really going for flashing. Pretty normal, actually. Sort of like, they could pass for normal outfits only... with a mask to hide our faces. You just can't wear that specific outfit in public..." She explained, trailing off a bit.

Hearing Emily reply to Felyse, Penelope decided to chime in as well. "I'm with Emily. I have no idea what to call myself. Elasti-Girl? Stretchy Chick? Rubber Lady? I'm... terrible at names. I mean, I can hardly name the characters in my works for school, much less as a nickname for myself." She replied, shaking her head as she heated plastic with a lighter to try and bend it to the shape of her face.

"So, yeah. I got nothing. What about you, Portal Boy? Maybe we should call you Chel? What's a feminine version of Chel? Chad?" She offered jokingly.

[Assistant] Victoria suddenly spoke up. "Hey, if we're talking outfits, I want something sleek and black, with a simple eye mask." She covered her eyes with her hands, leaving holes between her fingers for her eyes. "Something that'll lead perfectly into my panther form. Oh, maybe I could be 'Black Cat'! Oh, wait, that doesn't make sense when I shift to something else, does it? Maybe just 'Dark Shift' then?" She went back to sketching in her notebook. She had a rough outline of a female figure already, with shaded areas that showed she was wearing a skin tight black suit. "But, I don't know if I'd be able to go out in public dressed like that."

[User]
"Portal Boy, Chel, Chad - Call me whatever you want. Might be fun to see every villain search for every Chad and Chel in this city." Felyse grinned at Penelope, balancing the bags of chips on one leg. "Names shouldn't be too hard. Just add Captain or some other nifty title in front of a noun and - voila! - you got something! Captain Elastic sounds fitting, no? Or iDoctor for Ems?" Lazily, he reached for the extra XBox controller next to Emilia. "Psssst, iDoctor, let me join in."
"Ooooh, how about Lady Chimera, Vee? It's a dark and sexy name... or is it so sexy that it sounds villainous?" He tilted his hat way from his face and scratched his chin in thought. "Wait, won't your suit tear apart if you shift into something a big as a wildebeest?" He asked and turned to Vee, raising an eyebrow almost teasingly. "You might as well be better off wearing a bikini. Might even scare a few scofflaws."

[Assistant]
Scoring a double kill, Emily didn't turn from the screen but listened to the conversations around her.

"Elastigirl might have a problem with you using Elasti-Girl, Penelope," she called out jokingly. Glancing over at Felyse, she grinned as she remarked, "I'm just going to call you Chel anyway."

Her face changed to one of mock repulsion as Felyse gave suggestions. "An Apple product? Please, spare me," she replied. Grabbing the extra XBox controller before Felyse could and waving it teasingly in front of his face, she said "You can play if iDoctor goes away" with a smile indicating she was thoroughly enjoying herself but still serious about the name.

"I like Chimera though," she admitted, turning back to the screen holding out the other controller for Felyse to grab while resuming play herself with one hand. "Without the 'Lady' in front of it, I think it suits Vee nicely."

[User]
Penelope chuckled listening to the other talk. She, of course, had written down what the others had asked of her and was busy working on everything. By tomorrow she'd have at least two or three of them done.

"Hey, I like iDoctor. It's funny even if it doesn't suit you. Then again, I'm terribad at names so the most creative thing I've got is Tech Girl. And Elastigirl can kiss my ass. I'm real, she's not. Not that I wanted to use that name anyway. Though I feel like if I call myself Captain Rubber people will make jokes I don't want them making." She spoke, snorting at her last statement.

"And I agree with Emily. Chimera is a nice name for ya, Vee. It fits. Wild and crazy beast." Penelope poked fun at Vee, sticking her tongue out at the friend. She finished up her mask and set it aside to dry before working on Emily's suit. Her plan for Emily was a short red-dress accented with black lace and an ornate black belt. That is, if she could spare the concentration to make it look nice. For now, she set to work drawing up the plan. "I'm working on yours next Emily, if you want to have a look at the designs." Penelope offered, bent over the work desk drawing over a sheet of paper.

Penelope had long since stripped herself of the limited fabric of her jeans and was now in a large sweater and sweatpants. The sweat pants her hiked up to her knees as she liked it that way, no matter how silly it made her look.

"What about Mrs. Universe? Since Emily can sort of know anything at the top of a hat. Eh... it might not fit..." She offered, biting her lip a bit as she thought some more.

[Assistant]
Heather was seated on one of the forgotten couches, her feet curled under her and her body was slightly hunch over a large smartphone resting in her lap. She swipes halfheartedly through through an endless feed of photos and self involved statuses from her friends and classmates. Even if she seem totally involved in her phone, Heather's mind was more concern with the upcoming mission. She tried examine the situation with a calmness that Heather was used to, but there was still a small feeling of fear. With a sigh, Heather tries to focus on the chatter around her. This should be the fun part, the part were the ragtag group designs a identity for themselves. Costumes wold be created, and names will be decided in an effort to complete the illusion of heroism. Heather peeks up from her screen to observe the group grow more involved with giving out names.

She does speak up with any ideas of her own, but she instead thinks up possible names for herself. Given her ability, Heather would have plenty of names to pick from. Bolt and Surge would not do, and sparks just sounded lame.
"Maybe voltage." Heather speaks out, mostly to herself but also to whoever happen to be listening in the room. "I kinda like voltage, could tack a 'Mis.' Or 'lady."" She says with a shrug.

[User]
"I like the dark motif though. I think I'll go with 'Dark Chimera'. Has a nice, mysterious ring to it." Vee put the finishing touches on her sketch and passed it to Penelope. "Here, what do you think?"

The outfit was simple, a tight, form fitting black suit covered the body, complete with gloves and boots. The mask was equally economic, just a black eye mask to hid her identity. There were, however, two extravagant details to the costume, a trailing sewn in scarf and a utility belt of sorts around the waist. Her measurements were penned into the corner of the drawing.

"Hey, how about 'Blue bolt'? You know, like that old saying? I think that might fit you." Vee pushed away from the table in her rolling chair and spun across the room, obviously having fun with this whole idea.

[Assistant]
Emily scored a Killtrocity, ending the Halo match. As the next match loaded, she put her controller down once more and got up to go look at Penelope's drawings. "Well, I like Miss Universe better than iDoctor," she chuckled.

Reaching Penelope's table, Emily peered over the elastic female's sketches. "Ooh, that's nice," she remarked. "I like it! Especially the lace. See, I knew I could trust your fashion sense," she concluded with a friendly grin. While she was at it, she took a look at some of the drawings for the others, including the one Vee had just put on the table. "We're going to be quite the varied group," she remarked absentmindedly and walked back to her place in front of the TV.

Jumping back into the match, she also commented on Heather's name suggestions. "Lady Voltage isn't bad," she said. "You could do something with Lightning too."


[System]
Rehsif "Res" Thrawl
Age:87
Race:Elf
HP:❇❇❇
SP:❇❇❇❇
Job:Spearfisher lvl 3
Magical Affinity:Wood lvl 3
Curse:Curse of Brangog lvl 2

AppearanceRes is shorter than most elves due to her experience with the plague as a child. Although she made a full recovery, she was unable to thrive physically like other elven children.

Although she dresses in very worn out clothing, she is always impeccably clean, often bathing and washing her clothes a few times every day, especially while fishing.

Her body is covered in small scars, and her teeth are yellow and cracked, all from her time with the plague. She could pay to have them fixed but she enjoys the way people shift uncomfortably around her when she smiles.
PersonalityAlthough she likes to pretend she is well adjusted, she is a germophobe and has nightmares about her experience with the plague. She fears illness above anything else, which contributes to her loner nature.

She is a reserved and dry person, and does not tend to venture outside of her comfort zone. It takes her long periods of time to make any major changes. She has been content as a sailor and fisherman for the last 77 years and had not planned on making any life changes prior to the Behemoth's arrival.

She prefers to avoid conflict if possible and has frequently disappeared on employers and
friends whens she felt things were getting too complicated. She keeps her connections surface level and pleasant. She has no real friendships or family left, except for her Uncle and his family. She personally does not consider them true relatives, and prefers it that way.

She hates working with others and prefers to get things done on her own at her own pace.

With all of that said, she is not afraid of fighting with people, and will do so if she has to, she would just rather take the path of least resistance.
BackgroundRehsif "Res" Thrawl was born and raised in a small coastal village near Siren's Bay. Her family, known for their spearfishing business, were quite successful. All of the Thrawls and their children learned to fish at a young age, with the older children catching trickier prey with spears. All contributed to the family business as soon as they were able.

When Rehsif was 7 years old, a starved and sickly traveler stumbled into their village. The town folk quickly ushered the traveler to the healer, the fear of plague on their mind. Some far away cities in the human lands had been entirely wiped out, and this fellow looked human. He was diagnosed with nothing more than a head cold and sent away with some herbs to soothe him.

Although the man was deemed harmless, the others were still wary of him. Rehsif's parents, taking pity on the man, plucked him off the streets and invited him to stay at their home while he recovered.

For their kindness, they were rewarded with misfortune. The traveler was indeed a carrier of the Yersinia Plague, a nasty illness that mimicked the cold for a few days before turning most into a bloated bag of sores. He had been ousted by his own people, their healer being far smarter than their own, but the man foolishly denied his condition. Chased away from his home, he unwittingly spread the illness to the kind family that took him in.

Rehsif and her parents were the first to fall ill, followed by their customers, and many others. The human traveler recovered, realizing what he had done he ran away under cover of darkness, leaving the Thrawls to die.

Rehsif's extended family, sure she would succumb like her parents and siblings, had already begun planning her funeral. Hearing the plans of her family, who were unaware she could hear them, was disturbing to the young girl. She began counting and fantasizing to drown them out, humming to herself of pretending she was somewhere else. It would become a habit that she would use to help her cope with stress.

It came as a shock to her uncle when the healer proclaimed she was improving.

A few others in the town also survived the illness, but the majority were not so lucky. After the initial happiness subsided, people began to whisper. Someone heard that just because a person looked fine, didn't mean they actually were. Their own healer, trying to deflect blame away from his failure to identify the plague, encouraged the rumor. Proclaiming that indeed it was true, the disease could hide in plain sight! Just as it did with the human traveler. A total lie as the man was quite obviously sick with something more than a head cold.

People began to distance themselves from the girl, and the other survivors too.

Her 'loving' Uncle, more upset about the whispers than his niece's safety, sent her to live in a small colony dedicated to carriers of the plague.

Located just outside of Chanel Town, the colony was little more than a collection of tents and shacks. Crime infested and ridden with rats, the environment was a stark contrast to the prosperous world outside. At the age of 15, Res left the orphanage, the neglectful caretakers never realizing she had gone. Setting up by the river, she grabbed a stick and sharpened it, she could barely remember how her Mother did it, or was it her Father?

Either way, she began fishing to supply her own food and soon realized she was pretty good at it. She enjoyed the silence and time alone, often finding herself zoning out to the flow of the river.

Scraping together a living by trading fish for supplies, she realized she needn't remain in the colony any longer. Just as she was planning her escape, and after a decade of scrounging a living in the colony, healers from the capital were dispatched to dismantle the "backward, shameful remnant of a time gone by."

Apparently, the rumors of people being able to spread Yersinia as carriers was just that, a rumor.

At the age of 17, Res was free.

The hundreds of people who had languished for decades in the rotten camp rejoiced, reuniting with family and friends as they one by one were retrieved by their loved ones.

Rehsif waited and waited. Her Uncle never arriving. Instead, she was given a letter by a Flandysrian aid worker and sent on her way.

Apparently, in her absence, Uncle had absorbed her inheritance as his own. Selling off her family home, and claiming rights to the business for himself. He apologized and assured her she would always have a place with his family in their home if she chose to come back.

Bitter, Rehsif tucked the letter away. She would pay her Uncle a visit someday, and he'd be sorry.

Hitchhiking her way to Chanel Town, she was able to secure a job on a fishing vessel, a trade she honed for many decades. Traveling around the coast, she would hop from vessel to vessel, never staying too long in one place. Her Uncle's letter always in her pocket as a reminder.

At the age of 67, Rehsif finally felt ready to confront her thieving Uncle.

As luck would have it, and her Uncle was always lucky, the Behemoth fell. A bright light in the sky so far away, her crewmates were not worried about their imminent safety, but they all knew that it was far too bright to be a shooting star.

It was not long later when the waves came, along with the rush of wind.

The ship, finishing one last round off the coast of Lacerta, was nearly tipped over, throwing Rehsif and many others overboard.

Dizzy from being tossed around in the ocean, she watched in horror as her crewmates were thrown and pulled under by all manner of horrors. Metal, smoke, tentacles, she couldn't tell if it was one creature or many, all she could do was attempt to swim away from the chaos, but she wasn't entirely lucky. Perhaps it was something in the water, or perhaps it was just the proximity of one of the beasts, but Rehsif soon found herself suffering from a strange ailment.

She was eventually discovered by the city garrison after her curse manifested, rather inconveniently, during a busy day in the market. Trying to sell the last of her catch, some customers began to argue. One man shoved another and the next thing Rehsif knew, an all-out brawl had ensued. Before she could step out, someone had grabbed her by the collar and was about to land a punch before she sent the stranger flying.

It was all very dramatic, and aside from a few broken bones, the man was not seriously injured.

Rehsif felt lightheaded after the incident, crumpling to the ground as she tried to keep the curse under control. When the garrison arrived, she was too tired to fight back.
Coping MechanismEvery sanity point spent causes Rehsif to think she is displaying plague like symptoms, the lower her SP the more contagious (in her mind) she becomes. At 0SP she perceives herself to be a walking plague, and acts as if she has the symptoms (madness, scratching her skin, panic.) When using her curse, if Rehsif is able to roll a high enough number she avoids losing a sanity point, if the number is low she loses a sanity point. Rehsif must take a short rest to recover sanity points, while resting she cannot interact with other characters or help with the plot, she must roll for how many turns she will rest.

She recovers 1 SP after a successful short rest.

[User]
Mort's beak moves as if to speak, but finds that the effort to form words is too much. He knows the Harpy leader by name, from some Who's Who thing he'd read back before all this misfortune. He wants to blurt out his family's proud name. He wants to also shrink into a corner and sleep and never wake.

Still, the talking statues make him wonder if maybe there's some purpose left in the planet for him. The idea of a purpose is a small twinkling light at the end of a dark, tortuous tunnel. He decides to take on whatever the fates have planned for him, and speaks in assent:

"Statues babblin' under some dumb light trick ain't no basis for a system of government, ya loony hoots. Y'all are off yer rockers. But I'm tired of that dungeon, and a breath of fresh air to stretch my wings in is more than this humble bird can ask fer."

[Assistant]
With every ebb, the statues' glow seems to urge Lans' fury to rise, tugging at his chest, drawing out occasional grunts. He keeps his head down and closes his eyes to avoid any provocation. His temper has gotten worse of late and he wonders if being free of the dungeon will help in this regard?

He glances around. He's seen his peers before as they were brought into the dungeon. "Strange," he muses, "We were all accosted at the same time and appear to manifest the same rare condition." But his imagination suddenly goes wild and his chest heaves for an instant before closing his eyes.

No good. His temper is rising. His eyes force open, as if to release the pressure building. He starts breathing harder, as if the increased breaths will help his efforts to subdue the rising tide. His hands ball up into fists. His vision starts going into a distance.

And then it all stopped.

Lans, relieved and surprised, focuses his vision to see what changed him so quickly. He just sees his comrades and his mind races... were they truly chosen? Did curses relieve each other somehow? He begins to have hope again... something he did not think he would feel in a long time. Perhaps there is a way out of this spiral into purgatory? And although he never really truly believed like the devout shamans did, Lans finds that his faith is suddenly brimming and overflowing.

However, he had no words for the Council. His upbringing taught him not to speak during such times. It was unbecoming.


[System]
| B I R T H N A M E: | Freyja

| E P I T H E T H: | "Tranquil" Freyja, "Loafer" Freyja

| R A C E: | Human

| A G E: | 34

| F U N C T I O N: | Vice-Admiral, Commanding Officer of G5's 2nd Patrol Unit

| A P P E A R A N C E: | While the picture above might display Freyja relaxing after a training session, she generally goes about in a turquoise V-neck with slightly loose gray pants that hang to her shin, all under her often worn Justice coat, if not something similarly casual. When it comes to appearances, she has a dark green suit with a black tie that's more fitting of the Vice-Admiral position she holds.

| P E R S O N A L I T Y: | Once full of a youthful bluster and passion, Freyja is more like a burned out husk these days. She seems more engaged in gambling away her excess earnings or checking out the local eateries than actually performing justice. Her patrols are whimsical, and her direction is easily swayed by the suggestions of her subordinates. Though she only barely meets her quotas, she'd never been assigned an objective she'd failed to meet until being sent to G5. And, despite rumors sprouted from her unseemly nature, no division of hers has yet to fail an inspection, surprise or otherwise.

| A B I L I T I E S: | Freyja is incredibly capable in both Observation and Armament Haki. She carries two swords but only fights with one at a time, having amazing precision and dexterity, backed by a scary amount of raw strength. Her movements are often subtle and deliberate: it's said that she could cut a straw, and the deed wouldn't be noticed until it fell off when someone went to drink.

| S K I L L S: | Though her lax nature makes her skills harder to discern than they should be, Freyja is the type of person who works best when pushed into a corner. She can boast a commanding voice, and she's rather sharp, having the sense to come up with decent ideas and plans on the fly. Call it good direction, as she also has a sense for navigation. Though her best skill of all may be her ability for bullshittery: most of her reputation comes from the reports of men who worked under her. To many of her superiors, she's only ever been a regular, stand up Marine.

| B I O G R A P H Y: | "For Justice!"

For so many of her years, that simple mantra was Freyja's code. Her meaning. Her way of life. It wasn't something she could put into words, and while her attempts satisfied whoever wanted to know, it never satisfied her. But if she couldn't put 'Justice' into words then it would have to be actions. She trained in combat and naval scholarly reading, often holding a book as she did simple exercises. Her diet was bland but efficient. She even got training from some local veterans, who were impressed with her diligence. By the time she was 16 she'd been admitted into Officer Academy, graduating one year early at age 19 as an Ensign. Promotions quickly shot her through the ranks, and she was eventually assigned to the Grand Line.

And that's where things began to change. As Freya was being challenged by stronger pirates, not even her actions seemed to be doing her ill-defined mantra the justification she felt it might deserved. Then, after a nasty strike cut her from cheek to shoulder, she spent much of her medbay visit wondering 'why'? She'd seen 'pirates' who fought for their families with as much fervor as Freyja ever had, and she'd seen Marines engage in dealings that would make the average thief blush. Freya had been helpless when it came to trying to put Justice in to words or actions, but now she couldn't even figure out what it felt like. What finally broke her was a sad incident where she engaged with a pirate crew that had been responsible for some great atrocities, and upon battling with their captain, she discovered that he was a Marine, acting undercover in a mission that seemed bafflingly poor in its planning. Some of the supposed atrocities were faked, but not all, yet the Marine still got off scot free.

At this point, Rear Admiral Freyja already had enough of an income to support herself and her now distant family, so her leadership became sluggish, her actions achieving the bare minimum. With her crew getting discontent, having been used to the more active leader she once was, she was reassigned. Then again, and again. Yet, despite her more reserved nature being ideal for base watching duty, when she met with superiority, she did so with the gusto she once had yet didn't display to her men, insisting that she be in a patrol division despite her lack of affinity. After some time of this, she was finally given what she wanted in an environment where no one would complain more than usual, as she was given a promotion and assigned to G5. And so she's commanded a patrol ship there for some months, her desire for relaxation becoming a struggle against the nature of that ocean so unfriendly to the brave and bold Marines.

| M I S C. N O T E S: | Freyja is in possession of two swords. Her most balanced one is Taranzia. The Skillful Grade sword is a rather long shirasaya with a white hilt and scabbard, the blade within being curved slightly at the end, the edge bitterly cutting. It has gotten Freyja through all too many fights.

Her other sword is a bit more...moody. G'nash is a heftly dadao (the same type of sword that Johnny and Yosaku use), the machete like blade looking odd when paired with Taranzia, the scale patterned hilt looping around for a grip like that of a cutlass. It's moodiness comes from that fact that it is also a crocodile. G'nash was looted from a pirate after having before been fed a Devil Fruit, the Croc Croc Fruit, allowing it to change into fat, 15 foot long man eater of a beast. Freyja's quite fond of him, though most wouldn't find him endearing unless you put aside the long maw of razor sharp teeth, blood red scales, and hard green eyes that look like gemstones without the sheen of a soul. Usually, the beast is lazy, like its current master, the two often lounging in the sun together. But when riled up, it likes to snap at whatever it feels like, usually trying to eat Freyja (and never getting close), and having wounded a few of her men in the past. However, she has also been able to weaponize this on a good day, using his transforming abilities in combat to increase her range and leathality. G'nash's half form possesses sharper teeth, front claws, and three blades running across the top of its long muzzle.

[User]
An annoyed groan escaped the gray-haired and shaggy-faced marine as he peaked around yet another corner in search for his target. Why had they sent him? Surely there were less competent rascals onboard this Warship that could do these pointless tasks, so why had he gotten stuck with the job of tracking down a kid barely half his age? The kid hadn't spent even a tenth of the time in the Marine ranks that he had and yet, that little sneak had managed to crawl his way all the way up to become a Lieutenant Junior Grade. Just thinking of it was enough to make the marine clench his fist. "Dedric Olari, the Lieutenant Junior Grade. Pfft, what a joke."

"Jealousy really doesn't suit you recruit." Dedric had heard the same comments before, people wondering just how he had managed to snag his title, and he always gave them the same answer. "I merely do as I get told, not my fault if that gets me places," A snide boyish grin stretched from ear to ear as Dedric walked up to the obviously cranky marine. "What did you want from me?"

"We seem to be unde-" That was as far as recruit Johannes got before something shook the boat, knocking him off his feet while Dedric stood firm as a pole.

"Attack?" Dedric asked mockingly, having a quick stretch. "Don't worry, I felt the first quake." He added before stepping over the sprawled out man and setting off towards the main deck.

---

It didn't take long before Dedric found himself in the middle of a developing chaos, marines running everywhere, carrying gunpowder and cannonballs, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. Dedric threw a quick glance out to sea and almost immediately noticed the pirate ship. "Those are the scrapyard guys? Right?" He asked to nobody in particular as he waited for one of those oh so familiar voices to start barking orders.

[Assistant]
Soon the Scrapyard Pirate ship was close enough, the vessel was one of their larger ones, but not one of their warships. That was what Ax figured, anyway. He had read every report the Marines had on the Scrapyard Pirates, not that there was a whole lot of those, as their leaders were all shrouded in mystery, even from the Marines. No scout whom had tussled with their higher ups had ever made it to a safe place to write a report. Ax was looking stoic as the cannon balls hit their hull, the ship's hull surely was durable enough, and the helmsmen were all skilled at maneuvering the Marinara. Frejya came up next to him, pointing out that the Scrapyard pirates surely weren't very smart. The cannons fired on their own vessel, the volleys meeting in the air, their cannons did all but nothing to the Pirate vessel. Ax shook his head, as he walked over to one of the cannon-men and grabbed one of the cannonballs, his hand being coated in his black haki as he put his foot up on the railing, taking aim.

With a enough force to make the entire Marinara to quake, Ax threw the haki-covered cannonball as hard as he could. The ball created a luft pressure wave around it as it soared through the air at the Scrapyard ship, hitting it's second mast, blowing part of it away, cheers rang out from members of the G5, but Ax didn't have any of it. "Focus." Was all he said, as the Scrapyard ship's engines roared loud enough for the G5 to hear it, and the ship moved faster towards them.

"They're gonna ram a Marine Warship? That's an interesting strategy..." Equal parts amused as concerned.


[System]
Age: 16

Heritage: The daughter of the late White Queen, Alyce Heart, named after another ancestor somewhere down the line. Her father died a couple months before she was born, making him one of the firsts murdered by the Red Sorceress before anyone realized war was at hand.

Appearance: Elayra stands at about 5'6", is of a small build, and has a light skin tone. She has gray eyes, her mother's eyes, that often have a haunted look in them, and is often told by those few who remember the White Queen that she looks like her mother. She wears her platinum hair with its loose curls down most of the time, and her fingernails are almost always chewed short.

Distinguishing Marks: She has many scars on her body from both training and battle with the creatures of Wonderland. From blade wounds and burn marks from spells, to claw and bite marks, the scars are all in various stages of healing, some now only faint silvery lines. Of easiest notice is the still healing scar stretching vertically over her left eye from just above her eyebrow down to her cheek the length of her nose. She's fairly proud of this one, having gained it just before killing one of the Red Sorceress' scouts.

Clothes Wear: Though it is the standard of the common female in the land to wear a dress, Elayra loathes the things and refuses to wear one unless absolutely necessary. She prefers a pair of trousers and a form-fitting top in colors that help her blend in with her surroundings. She wears tall leather boots with a slight heel, and a pair of matching bracers. She also has a belt that holds her trusty sword and favored dagger, as well as a pouch in which she keeps what little amount of the stones that are the land's currency she has managed to collect, along with a few other small odds and ends. However, she does have a dress in her wardrobe for those rare occasions when it would help her to better fit in with the world around her.

Abilities: Magic-wise, she is capable of only a few simple spells, since she has spent honing her ability to access the magic that flows through the world. On the other hand, she has been learning how to fight since she was capable of holding a weapon. She is rather extraordinary at wielding polearms, hand-to-hand combat, shooting a bow, and various types of swords. However, she tends to favor the sword, and is fairly quick on her feet.

Weapons: Ever since Drust deemed her worthy and able enough to have her own, good weapons, she's used two particular weapons: a saber, and a kris dagger. Both of these, according to Drust, were gifts from her mother. While the White Queen never used the sword, the dagger itself was once a favored side weapon by her mother. Sword: It resembles a long, double-edged saber, the blade curving slightly. The blade has a blue hue to it, and the rather plane hilt is a dull silver color with a black leather-wrapped handle. Kris Dagger: Essentially the same in appearance as her sword, only with a wavy blade. Bow and Arrows: A simple recurve bow made of a strong, sturdy wood. She has added random small carvings onto it. The arrows are of a matching wood with brilliant blue fletching that changes shades and even adds a bit of purple and green in different lighting. She often has the bow slung over her back, and the quiver of arrows hanging at her hip. Unless, of course, she feels she has no eminent need for them, in which case she stores them away in her pack. The quiver is enchanted to keep the arrows from falling out, no matter how violently shaken, but allows for its owner to easily pull them out. Unlike her bladed weapons, this was "borrowed" from one of the Forsaken.
Weapon Update: As of page 16 in IC, she no longer has her kris dagger. Instead, courtesy of unforeseen events, she's using one of her guardian's, Drust's, spare stiletto daggers. It's a rather simple affair. The silvery metal forms a spiral at the the hilt, topped by an elegant round pummel. Its needle-pointed, triangular blade's length is around nine inches. Unlike your common Earth stilettos, each of the three thin sides are forged and sharpened in a way that lets it be used for cutting and slashing, not just thrusting.

Personality: Having grown up in the perilous world of Wonderland, Elayra tends to be suspicious of everyone and everything, since you can't even trust what you see in the world anymore. She is careful and watchful, and always on the move, always secretly hoping to encounter one of the Red Queen's followers so she could bring about their demise. When around people she knows, or in a situation where emotions are heightened or heated, she is not afraid to speak her mind, often not thinking through her words before they leave her tongue, which has often ended poorly and resulted in a couple of her scars. She is not one to hesitate to defend what she believes is right, or to fight for those hurting from the Sorceress' rule. She is the brutal, fearless sort, and even when she does feel fear, sorrow, or any other 'weak' feelings, she refuses to show it, either her bitter, angry side emerging with more potency, or putting on a cocky, self-assured grin and spouting off a few smart comments. Though she often fantasizes about what Wonderland was like before the curse, the weight of reality is always a crushing one, and she fears to dwell on the dreams for long for fear the world may never be restored. After all, if the fate of the world really would rest on the shoulders of her and someone she knew nothing about, she dares not hope for the best. Life had taught her all too well that hope did little besides bring about painful disappointment.

Major Positive Traits: Active. Dedicated. Adaptable. Curious. Brave. Alert. Compassionate toward those suffering from the Red Queen's rule. Fierce.

Major Negative Traits: Stubborn. A bit sadistic when it comes to her enemies. Bitter. Overly serious. Untrusting. Harsh. Hot-tempered.

Weaknesses: She often acts too fast and without thinking things completely through, letting her emotions get the best of her. Though it often works for her, she can be too fierce, often getting carried away and taking it from a heartfelt intensity to an almost scary ferocity.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Chews on her fingernails. Twirls or chews a strand of hair when thinking. Tags: "I'm nobody." "It's a living nightmare." She always speaks with a serious, and authoritative tone.

Fears: Extremely small spaces, and otherwise being locked up. Complete darkness—or, rather, not being capable of seeing what might be lurking in it. Failing to dethrone the Red Sorceress. Of facing the Red Sorceress. Of not being capable of living up to the shadow cast by her mother.

Other: Cherished Object: A necklace the White Knight gave to her. It is a family heirloom in the shape of the royal coat-of-arms that the queen ordered him to give Elayra once she turned thirteen. About an inch large, a red stone creates a heart with a curved bottom and a point that curls up into a spiral. Atop it is a small blue rose in bloom. Two swords of tarnished silver weave through part of the heart on either side to create an X, the tiny metal pieces visible through the red stone. The pendant hangs by the swords from a chain that is shockingly sturdy, and she always keeps it hidden beneath her shirt to prevent it from possibly giving her identity away. It's said to glow when the thing the wearer seeks is near, and has proven that rumor to be truth.

Short Bio: Elayra remembers little, if anything, of how life was before the Sorceress' curse ravaged the land. She has been told the story of how they escaped: the White Knight took the two children through a hidden passage in the palace, and they made their way over the land to Harrow Hollow Hill, where it is said portals to many worlds reside. With the opening of a couple of them eminent, they jumped on the opportunity. With the portal entrance too small for the three to fit through together, the boy went first. Before the other two could follow, they were ambushed by a few of the Sorceress' creatures and forced to flee or be killed.
 When the queen's curse took effect, it did no harm to Elayra, but it changed the White Knight. Though he remained mostly in control of himself, never forgot the task he had been charged with, the kindness and genteelness that once ruled him was all but abolished. In its place was an almost crazed brutality kept at bay by only the little of who he once was that remained.
 So, Elayra grew up knowing only the nightmarish side of Wonderland and with a surrogate parent who was firm and harsh, always unrelenting in his training. He taught her how to wield various types of weapons, as well as educated her about everything he could to aid her in succeeding in bringing down the Red "Queen." Though he showed a restraint that all others affected by the curse lacked, his methods were just shy of barbaric on the field. However, the Knight did have moments where his true self shone through, showing a kindness befitting a doting father. But, on the other side of the coin, there were times when the curse took almost full control, sending him into a terrifying rage.
 The two occasionally stayed with a few other survivors and supporters of the White Queen, all living underground and hoping they would not be found. She kept who she was a secret, by order of the Knight, and for knowing that if anyone knew who she was, it could very well mean her death.
 She learned quickly, as one must when living in a world where even the grass could try to tear you apart, and your mentor, when more consumed by the curse, lived by the philosophy that "pain is the greatest teacher." Even so, the Knight was the only family she had, and she cherished every moment when the curse was subdued long enough for her to see a small glimpse into the gentle, caring people Wonderland was once filled with.
 At long last the Knight, who watched the skies diligently, told her it was finally nearly time for the portal to Earth to open and for her to seek out the Hatter's son. The two set out on the journey once more to Harrow Hallow Hill in the dismal hope that she would succeed and be capable of bringing him home to Wonderland and putting an end to the evil Red Queen's reign, and the rule would once more belong to the Heart family.

[User]
With the gentle pattering of the rain echoing around them and off the slightly vaulted roof, Elayra's eyes narrowed when Ghent questioned her order. She gave something between a growl and a sigh.
 "Basically?" she replied curtly. "Yep." She glanced up to the shield, now unneeded beneath the protection of the pavilion.
 Looking from it, she let her mental hold over it and the magic drop. Without her will to command the magic to take form, the shield burst into a glittering, dusty film that vanished in the span of a blink.
 Elayra uncrossed her arms and rested her left hand leisurely on the hilt of her sword, her intense gaze returning to Ghent.
 "You're Hatter Madrail's son. The only ones remaining of the Vinifcium--a race of powerful sorcerers and fighters," she elaborated with an irritated air, trying to answer an inevitable question before he could ask it to save time. "In theory," she spat the detested word, "you've inherited their connection to magic. And that's what we need. But you didn't even believe in magic until yesterday!" She snorted, throwing a hand in the air exasperatedly and again wondering what kind of world taught that there was no such thing as magic.
 "So." She took a threatening step toward Ghent and crossed her arms once more over her chest. "Mouth and eyes closed. We're going to see if you get along with the magic here."

[Assistant]
"Hatter's my old man. I know." Ghent grumbled, leaning against the table nearest to him. The fact that he was related to Hatter was something he'd been reminded of several times, but he wasn't all too pleased about it. So far, he'd only felt the pressure of expectations he had no idea if he was capable of meeting. Why should he be compared to Hatter if he'd no recollection of the man? It wasn't as if he'd been taught magic, he'd only just learned about it.
 Though Ghent didn't fancy the idea of having to prove himself so early on, he didn't want to back down from the challenge. Elayra made conjuring fire seem simple enough, and she'd made the rain-shield vanish without a single word. At least this way he wouldn't have Drust there to witness his first attempt at sorcery.
 "Believe in it? How could I have believed in it? It's never been proven to exist!" Ghent had a feeling Elayra's opinion of him would not change unless he got the magic to work. Though he'd tried to tell himself that he didn't care what she thought, he did care. Proving himself was important if he wished to earn any amount of respect.
 With an aggravated sigh, Ghent closed his eyes and unintentionally mimicked Elayra by folding his own arms across his chest. "To quote you, we're wasting time. Lets get this over with."


[System]
Monster Type: Birdgon
Gender: Male
Occupation: None (In college)
Weapon?: Claws +10 ATK, It's... not possible to remove these.
Armor?: Plain T-Shirt +3 DEF, It's just a plain, white shirt... for a plain guy.
Magic (up to three) : Fire magic, Lightning magic, and Healing magic
Personality: Out of battle, he can be described as rather unassuming, generally friendly, and somewhat talkative, however... this all changes should you get him mad. He will often attack with everything he's got the moment he's mad enough to attack someone, but, after that, he just goes back to using one element at a time... and can usually be talked out of a fight after that first attack.

Bio:
 Unlike most of the monster kids, David always tried to use as many magic spells as possible, claiming that he'd 'get good at all of them!', so, while they continued with their more specialized magic... David was left with some very basic magic that doesn't adhere to any sort of theme. This, at first, got him bullied around by the others, who all had their magic down to a specific thing, their magic all just fit together, whereas David's was just sort of all over the place. He could create fire, he could create lightning, and he could heal... but... he couldn't really figure out anything more than that, whereas some of the more musically gifted monsters shaped their magic into notes, and actually used that to create music, David... could just sort of create the magic. He couldn't get it to do anything special, such as change the color of another monster's soul to force them to move a certain way, or have it shaped like something he likes... it was just sort of there. But... he always tried to make it into something else, but... he just couldn't figure out what, exactly. That being said, he never stopped trying. He continued trying to do something special with his magic... he tried with fire, then lightning, but all throughout his school years, not only did he not have a subject that he was best at, but he couldn't do anything spectacular with his magic... other than just produce lightning or fire.

 'This lack of specialization seemed to follow him into college, where, instead of focusing on one, maybe two subjects, David just took whatever classes appealed to him at the time... which, of course, means that he has a bunch of credits... that don't go towards any sort of degree. This ended with him spending a ton of gold on random classes that have basically nothing to do with one another. His magic, even though he continued trying to make it DO something different was still as plain as ever, even if he can use it to heat things, and power things respectively. Thankfully, the bullying has stopped as it usually does after high school, though, he occasionally refers to himself, jokingly, as 'Plain Dave' just due to how uninteresting his magical spells are. It was around this time that David caught a show about Mettaton fighting a strange creature, one that's been described as a 'human'... he thought it was odd, but, he didn't really want to get involved, as, for some reason, he figured that the human would end up getting killed either by Mettaton who really put up an amazing show fight, or the king... er... fluffysomethingorother. David just sort of figured that, much like the other times these 'humans' entered the underground, it would end with another soul taken...'

 He was wrong. Apparently, not only did the human make it past the king, he also broke the barrier. For the first time in his life, David would be able to see the sun, the stars, and probably so many other things... however, David was one of the last monsters to hear about it, so... despite his enthusiasm, he was also the last monster to leave, aside from whatever few might have actually decided to stay down there. Once he finally made it out of the underground, one of the first things he saw, other than a beautiful sunset, of course, was another human... this one was taller than Frisk, and, at first, David was actually somewhat scared of him, but... soon enough, Erion, the human, convinced David that he meant no harm, that he wants there to be peace just as much as David did. The two became friends after that, and soon enough, David was in a new college on the surface, where he continued the running gag of never being able to really work towards any particular degree. This was just about the time where he found out that the human he saw fighting Mettaton, who was apparently named 'Frisk' vanished... said human was also responsible for the peace between humans and monsters, and fearing a possible war, David tried to give a speech about how people and monsters alike shouldn't judge one another... but, it seemed to fall on deaf ears, as nobody wanted to listen to him... he was apparently a joke in that college, so, the crowd he had amassed just laughed, and left soon after.

Appearance: David is a strange creature. While he has the general appearance of a bipedal dragon, there are some decidedly bird parts on there... more specifically, he has feathers covering his back, wings, shoulders, and the top half of his tail. His arms also look quite a bit like bird legs, though, they have exactly five fingers, and he's capable of using them to manipulate tools (such as pencils). The feathers range in color from white to a light blue, however, his scales, which cover basically everything else are a contrasting red and orange color, with the occasional black scales. Oddly, he has a bird's beak rather than a dragon's scaly snout, but, said beak actually has a set of teeth for unknown reasons. He stands at about 5' tall, which makes him short among adult humans, but rather tall among children. His eyes are somewhat reptilian looking with slit-like pupils, and a yellow color around the pupils with almost no white area. His horns are a jet black color, as are his claws.

I dunno... that's a good question. CAN I, or would I just phaze through the ghost?

[User]
Sans wanted to smack his face at the fact that Asgore didn't catch on. But he managed to withhold that action (or he was just too lazy to do so right now), and he answered Papyrus, "Well then, I guess that means he has a...baaaaad memory?" Skylar couldn't help but laugh at the pun, and Sans grinned widely.

However, the joviality in that grin faded quickly when a certain person appeared.

Skylar and Sans looked to see a new person came into the picture. A boy with a manly bandana and a saccharine exterior appeared and said that he wanted to join them in order to learn more about the Underground for school. Flowey who was still in Papyrus's hands, seemed to have that look of recognition, before its mouth contorted into a small, devilish grin.

Sans stared at Chen silently not letting his emotions show, while Skylar answered with a hesitant and polite smile on her face, "Ye-Yeah, life's pretty strange," She couldn't say why exactly, but she had a feeling that this person was dangerous...A feeling of deja vu, perhaps? Considering what happened earlier, she wouldn't put the feeling past it.
Sans and Skylar looked to Undyne and Papyrus when they spoke up. The shorter skeleton chuckled, "Sure, I don't see why not, bro. The more, the merrier,"

*~*~*

Skylar wasn't sure why Sans agreed, but she wanted to speak up and give a reason as to why this guy shouldn't come. But she never did get the chance. David brought up a valid point, flew up to her, and helped her down. She held onto David (making sure that it was tight enough so that she didn't fall, but not tight enough to hurt the poor guy). When he whispered to her, she nodded and she answered him, whispering just as David did, when he was done talking, "I'm glad I'm not the only one who got that feeling! Something about him is really off. We'll have to keep an eye on him," She then realized something and she introduced herself before David landed, "My name is Skylar,"

After David landed, Skylar watched as he flew back up, and she mumbled "I better stay here and wait for the others," She noticed that she was standing amongst a patch of yellow flowers. They seemed to have been well taken care of. She also noticed among the yellow flowers, was a small light. She reached her hand out towards the light out of curiosity, and after a brief flash and a feeling of determination, the light had disappeared.

*~*~*

Sans noticed how different Chen's behavior towards Papyrus was in comparison to Frisk's and Skylar's when they first met him. He held back a derisive snort, and ignored Flowey as it shouted towards David and Skylar "You all know you're going to die, right?!" He wanted to throw Flowey using his blue magic, but he didn't want to do so in front of Papyrus and the others.

When David came back and Chen asked the bird monster, Sans spoke to the kid casually with a shrug, his hands in his pockets, "Huh, you're quite prepared...and determined to do that assignment, aren't ya?" He shrugged and continued "I'm sure you can hitch a ride with Mettaton, kid. I think our bird friend here, will...egret carrying another person down while they're tired," He then turned and said "I'll meet you guys down below," He walked into the trees and disappeared, only to reappear at the bottom of the hole, with Skylar.

He looked to said girl, and he noticed that she was looking towards the entrance of the ruins. He asked "'Sup kiddo?" Skylar mumbled quietly, "I hear noises ahead...Listen..." Sans remained silent and he heard what Skylar was talking about. There were people ahead, and they were talking. But they were too far away to tell if it was Frisk or not...

[Assistant]
"ALRIGHT, I'M DONE WAITING, HURRY UP AND JUMP INTO MY ARMS!" Mettaton threw his arms around, pointing at the group angrily, he placed his hands on his hips and waited.

Asgore looked at the robot, and nodded. He turned to the rest of the group, and decided that now was the time for a speech, the group needed a morale boost, and Asgore knew how to provide that.
"Howdy everyone! I'd just like to say how glad I am to get your help, it has been far too long since we saw Frisk last, and if you are all as dedicated and determined as I hope you are, than we will find them sooner than any of you will believe, however, I have a feeling that there are those among you who do not believe in our mission." As he said this, he looked around, seeing if anyone made a movement that signified that Asgore was telling the truth, nobody did, so Asgore continued.
"To those people, I'd have to ask for your trust, as we all know how important Frisk is to monster-kind, and humankind alike, and without your help, we stand no chance at finding them." He frowned and lowered his head, but then smiled and raised it again as he began the next sentence.
"Even if that is the case, I will not stop until all of my friends are safe, whether you join or not! I will find my...son?...daughter?...Uh, anyways, I won't stop until they're found, and we all know how committed I am, so join with me! Save Frisk, and bring monster-kind and humankind together in a way never seen before, we will be heroes! No matter what happens, stay determined! And we will succeed!"
Asgore then raised his trident to the sky triumphantly, it reflecting the sunlight to the crowd, as if it was radiating from Asgore himself.

[User]
Celes on her side jumped into Mettaton's back, ready to go now, ready to go and get down to her old home again. As she waited as she was going down, she breath deeply. Her old home... This would be nostalgic. But there is something else... That human that was lost down there... Frisk was it? Well, hearing what Asgore said, it seemed no one even knew his or her gender. Anyway... she waited before arriving in the cave with Mettaton and probably a couple others, before walking to Skylar and David. She whispers.
"That... other guy... I don't know why but he gives me the creeps..." she then says shivering. She would need to be careful...

Meanwhile at the surface, Erion looked as the people went downwards. He breath deeply after hearing Asgore's speach and smile softly.
"Spoken like a true leader... even if one part of it was... off. I guess no one even knows the gender of Frisk? I mean.... kinda weird." he then says softly before looking towards the hole and shaking his head.
"I hope David will be ok... and everyone else. I just... don't know..." he says, his fencing sword well holstered at his side. It might be best to take care that this guy that stays at the surface end up safe... he probably was really worried about that kid also, so he probably was going to wait until the group comes back.

[Assistant] I smile at Sans' joke, and respond with "Yeah, guess you're right, Sans. Sorry buddy, but I'm gonna have to take a break. I hear Mettaton doesn't get tired, though,", and while I had a plan for actually lowering the new guy into the hole, I then recalled the fact that Skylar got on my back to get down there, rather than having me pick her up with my arms. Yeah, I guess he's right, trying to pick him up when I let Skylar ride me would make him suspicious of me, and letting him ride me would give him the perfect opportunity to back-stab me. I thought as I headed over to Asgore. Once his speech was over, I ended up whispering to him "Hey, Asgore, got any spare soul jars? I don't want to accidentally absorb either Skylar's, or the new guy's soul if anything happens to them, and heck, if I do bring back the jar, maybe Alphys could give them a new body, after all, she made Mettaton and put a soul in him, right?" I then waited for his response while looking over who might stay and who might go. It was obvious that the younger boss monster would go, and we couldn't keep Papyrus or Undyne from going down there if we tried. Mettaton would probably end up going down there, as that's where most of the drama would be... as for Sans... I had no real idea. It seemed like he could just come and go as he pleased with how he seemed to move. I almost wanted to head down there, but I'd really need at least one soul jar, just in case, before I do. Of course, the real reason for the jar was just to prevent the hooded fellow from reviving, or doing whatever it is humans do when they die and come back, but I couldn't let him, or really anyone else know what I was planning.


[System]
~Reika Kuroke~

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Pre-Transformation

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Post-Transformation
Age: 17
School Year: Third Year
Arcana Card: Card XV: The Devil
Magic Color: Black with red outline.

Powers:
Card XV - The Devil: By successfully parrying or blocking an oncoming attack, Reika can then inflict the same amount of damage or force right back at the enemy almost instantly. However, this ability can only work when defending against physical close-combat attacks, such as sword strikes. If one were to carelessly slash at a defensive Reika, a cut of similar proportion would immediately present itself on the enemy. Unfortunately, this unique power reverts Reika's fighting style to retain more defensive capabilities than offensive ones, forcing her to rely solely on counterattacks and first strikes.

Weapon:
Reika's only weapons are her pair of clawed gauntlets and her increased, strength, speed, and stamina as a Magical Girl. One could even say her brutality in battle can be as sharp as a blade for she becomes silently ruthless in combat. She will not hesitate to slay her prey.

Personality:
Outside of personal life, Reika is a powerful public figure and maintains that image rightly so in the presence of her peers. As Student President, it's quite obvious that she possess excellent public speaking skills and an ability to run entire operations to their course. As such, she's often been called crazy for even accepting the job in the first place due to the role's many responsibilities and duties.

Though closer inspection would reveal the façade Reika puts on for the people around her. Dig a little deeper, and one would find a girl brimming with apathy for others and has a tendency to wander alone. She's not depressed and she's not anti-social, but she does prefer to not be in the center of bustling activity. As Student President, the irony is obvious to see.

Work as Student President and her own real lack of caring have taken away many chances to actively integrate with those among herself, and she will often politely decline gatherings and parties hosted by other members of the Student Council. But if, by chance, she does form a rare bond with another, then she will do all things in her power to keep said bond and never let it sever.

Bio:
A girl who became a Magical Girl some time ago. Despite being quite popular at her attending school as the Student Council President, she has kept her identity as a denizen of magic a secret from mostly everyone else. Reika doesn't usually use her authority as Student President to really do much of anything unfortunately.

The girl is near apathetic to events around her, only stepping in when she's required to such as disciplinary actions amongst the students. Even so, she's gathered a following of some kind from within the school, mainly cause of her looks. As such, she's been labeled as the "Most Attractive Girl in School". She is also "The School's Coldest".

---

~Theme~

[User]
Yukimura Chiharu

The brown-haired girl didn't speak to anyone. Even her friends didn't receive much today. In truth, Chiharu didn't want to talk to anyone today. Seeing those who went to their clubs after classes had made her feel... well, it wasn't as if anyone would want her in a club, would they? No-one would. So there was no point in trying to sign up for one, even if she felt no small amount of longing to join one of them. She didn't have any skills they'd find useful or interesting... And so Chiharu wanted to go home. Maybe she could read her new volume of Buster Climax. Sumiko had just blown up the Arch-King's walking fortress, things were getting really good... maybe she could try that new recipe, too... It wasn't as if anyone wanted her here, so she should just get home as soon as possible.

Quietly, Chiharu made her way towards the lockers, getting out her shoes. To say the least, there was nothing for her to do here right now. Idly, her mind wandered to other subjects. What if... what if she actually was able to help people? Like the protagonists out of one of her favorite manga. What if she could do something like that? The idea of it at once filled her with excitement and crushing disappointment. It would be amazing, yes... But that kind of thing was impossible. Chiharu quietly changed her shoes and rose to her feet.

She had to get home, and stop thinking about ridiculous things.

[Assistant]
Reiko Kimura
"Reiko!" A student called. She ran towards one specific table where another weary-looking girl sat. "Wanna go out with us tonight?"

The weary girl looked up in surprise. She had just finished packing her things and she looked like she was about to leave.

"Ah! Um, I was going to go to the library to study..." She stammered out, "I'm falling a little behind on my homework so I need to catch up..."

"You could always borrow just copy mine you know," The other student said with a huff. "It's not like sensei woould notice."

"But I'd feel guilty..." She replied "I can't just steal someone else's work..."

The other student looked at her for a second and let out a resigned sigh.

"Alright... I guess we'll have to go without you." She said. She turned and exited the classroom, while Reiko stared down at her desk for a while.

She always had a hard time keeping friends. She could make them, and she would never treat them badly, it's just they'd eventually find out she never went anywhere with them. Of course, that was mostly the fault of... it. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out.

She never let the Hanged Man card out of her possession. A little pointless, because it always found its way into her hands anyway. The main reason she never went out with friends was that she was never sure what would happen if she did. There was the potential her black outs wouldn't be so benign if there were other people besides her family around, so she made sure to be cautious. Sometimes she would find herself drawing it out without meaning to and she would black out before she knew what had happened.

"I should get going, I suppose... She said, getting up for her chair.

At least she never really lied to her friends. She really was falling behind a little, and she really had been going to do homework. She would have taken the opportunity to copy her friend's work really, she really would've liked to go out with friends for once. But if she told them her real reason for not going, they definitely wouldn't believe her.

She wished there could be someone that would.

[User]
Delia Lin

Delia was draped across her desk, dreaming of a world where she didn't have to get up early in the morning to be imprisoned in a room where she was babbled at. This earned her the ire of some teachers who tried to ambush her with questions. Delia managed to pick up enough context clues be right about 60-70% of the time, however that just made the teachers all that more confident.

Ughh! Why can't they just leave me alone! I'm right more often than wrong. Don't they get board! as the bell rang Delia was shocked out of her thoughts and was up and out of the classroom like a bolt of lightning before the teacher had a chance to yell at her. Unable to contain herself Delia laughed as she ran, almost falling down the stairs in her haste to get away from her prison.

Getting her things in order Delia burst out the school front door, but didn't particularly feel like going home. Pulling out her wallet Delia checked how many tokens she still had from yesterday.
Yes~! Another afternoon to hit the arcade~ and shot into town. Changing in a public restroom Delia exited now wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts instead of that insufferable uniform. Stopping by a vending machine, Delia grabbed a can of some foreign sounding passion fruit soft-drink to have on the way.

Entering the arcade Delia she let the sound block off the rest of the worlds and immersed herself in this little pocket of heaven. She noticed some students from school, but didn't call out to them. She was here to enjoy herself and play some games, not talk to others she knew only in passing. Heading to the back Delia found her favourite pinball machine and inserted a token, almost glad that pinball was going out of fashion leaving the machine all to herself. As she relaxed into a wide stance, Delia launched the ball a devilish grin on her face as she decided today was the day she beat her high score. Today's the day, I can feel it~! I will not panic on the multi-ball and be totally defensive this time!

[Assistant]
Yamamoto Rika had been slow to exit to exit the school today.

She had not been in any particular rush to leave, especially since she lived only twenty minutes away. While it may be easy to imagine someone like her having a personal driver to ferry her to and from school, such a thing felt... cliche. Besides, the simple act of walking home seemed to gain her respect points with a lot of classmates, so why not milk that for all its worth?

And besides, she could stop on the way home for some art supplies. Rika had a hunch that she could almost eyes symmetrically, now!

And during her slow exit, the homeroom teacher had pulled her into a conversation regarding her scores. The usual spiel; 'I know you can perform better, if there's anything you're having trouble on, you have the makings of top student'... Rika could understand it was all meant in good faith, but damn it, what was the point of trying, when her current scores were enough?

When she was finally able to escape the conversation, Rika walked to the exit, which contained very few students by now. A few moments later, having changed her shoes, her gaze turned to the nearest student - probably a first year, with dark hair tied into small twintails, who was just leaving, as well.

Rika gave the girl a bright smile, and figured she should give the girl a polite greeting/farewell, "I hope you enjoyed your day! See you tomorrow!"

And with that, Rika was stepping towards the main entrance, expecting no more than a simple courtesy reply as she exited the building.

[User]
Mura Sahashi

Mura sat in class, tapping away on the desk with her finger out of sheer boredom. She had already given up listening to whatever the teacher was saying and instead was reciting some arbitrary poem she had read.

We Are The Seven Deadly Sins,
Be Careful Or We Shall Win.
We Come And Go, But We Are Strong
Ignoring Us Will Do You Wrong.

only to stop as the bell rang, snapping her back to reality. She packed her things away and made her way out, headed for her locker for her shoes. Today was one of her chosen days; a day where she would actually come to school. Even if it was a waste of time, it was good to come once in a while. Some people were kinda surprised that today she had actually showed up, but that was to be expected. She hadn't been around for a couple of days due to some studies, but she felt that today was good a day as any to drop in.

Making her way out, she pulled out her phone and began writing a couple notes down from what she had actually picked up during her lessons. With this Mura began to walk home, looking very, very bored. Since she was in no real rush, she decided to make her way into town. The orphanage people wouldn't be making dinner for a while longer so she had to do something to pass the time. She could grab a drink, head to the arcade, do some shopping, whatever. The arcade did sound appealing, but she didn't exactly have enough money to waste on machines that would return to her nothing. But it could come to profit if she was lucky... That did sound goo- Like hell that was gonna happen. That was just greedy, and that was something she couldn't afford to be. Mura pulled out her wallet and checked how much money she actually had. Huh, there was some left over from yesterday; which meant she could go to the arcade if she actually wanted to. Well, it was good to indulge oneself at some points in time, so she began to walk there.

Arriving, there was already quiet a few people around; most notably some girl furiously going at it on the pinball machine. Some people really had no control of their desires, and by the looks of it hers were running rampant. Getting some arcade tokens, Mura walked over to a grabber machine with some stuffed cats inside. These are kinda cool. I think I'll try my luck. she thought, inserting a coin and attempting it; failing, but getting kinda close. Once more and we'll try something different. trying it again, she actually did it; to her surprise. That was a first. She picked up the cat and smiled, looking at it and wondering.

My Name Is Greed, How Do You Do?
I'm Deadly Sin Number Two.
I Make You Want All That You See.
Those Desires You Have Come From Me.
I'll Take What's Mine, I'll Take What's Not.
No Matter What, I Will Not Stop.
I Will Never Leave Your Side
Because I'm Never Satisfied.

[Assistant]
Reika should have slapped her. In fact, she should have slapped the girl five times over. No, it had to be much more than that. How many times had the feckless otaku waltzed into her Council room just to freeload and sample her snacks? Better yet, how many times had the girl claimed to help out when everyone knew she was just here to read and eat.

Yes, the Student Council President should have kicked the glasses-bearing girl out of her office a long time ago. But these days-actually everyday-she just couldn't find the energy or the motivation to enact these thoughts. So she beckoned Akane with yet more silence as she ate her own meal in relative peace.

Said meal consisted of raw fished packed into little cubes to which she bit into gingerly while taking the occasional sip of tea. Seriously, where were the other Council members? They didn't all call in sick again, did they? That left Reika alone with the overeager otaku and suddenly the raw fish didn't sit well with that prospect in mind. At last though, she suppressed a deep sigh before turning her blank and probably uncaring gaze onto the other girl.

"Inquietude? That word seems a bit large to fit into your vocabulary Chinatsu-san," the President said with little emotion, making it hard for one to decipher if her words were compliment or insult. "As for the tea, I really can't say. Someone added honey, I think, to the brew earlier today."

Looking up from her meager meal, Reika began to play with a few strands of her white hair. She took her time in answering Akane's second question, the third member to their happy little trio. That girl was always late to everything so she wondered why Akane was surprised about it now.

"I have no idea. You know how Owari-san is so there's no use in invoking her arrival. Now, can you please quiet down? Your droning is becoming more intense than this so called sense of inquietude that has you intrigued. And yes, I can feel it too. It's probably the birds again."

Reika hoped it was the birds. Otherwise she would be forced to actually do something about it. A pity really. And she was having such a good meal. For now though, she appreciated the calm before the storm and went back to chewing on her fish in peace. At least, until Akane decided to open her mouth again.