[System]
Age: 19
Year: 1st
Gender: Male
Species: Warlock (Water specialization)
Physical Description:

In Depth Physical Description: Standing at five and a half feet tall, Morgan is a rather thin individual, though not completely devoid of muscle. He has a mop of dark brown hair, always parted in the middle, that falls to his shoulders. Often hidden by his hair are dark blue eyes framed by sharp features that always seem a little distant. He tends to wear a scarf and jacket no matter the weather, and will do without the jacket before abandoning the scarf. Running from the back of his neck to his lower back are jagged scars, from falling through a crust of ice into a frozen lake and shredding his back on ice and stone.
Personality: Morgan is generally seen as quiet and reserved, and for good reason. He is prone to get lost in introspection, even in the middle of a conversation. Equally slow to judge and to trust, his every move and word in public seem to be chosen with deliberate care. Even among friends he tends to be seen as a little odd, though once he warms up he becomes more free and talkative. He tries hard to avoid drama of any kind, but inevitably tries to help his friends as best he can.
Hobbies: Reading, observing nature, drawing and writing (mostly to record notes), and dabbling with potions.
Familiar: Judas, a grumpy, grey-eyed black cat.
Extra: Morgan was born into a predominantly female coven, and has several full and half-sisters of varying ages. His only half-brother is much younger.

---

[User]
Suleykaar

"Silly dragon, balls are for dancing, not talking!" His smile turned more into a frown and before he could say anything she had moved on to see one of her newest friends. Though, Sulley thought it was more f her next emotional meal than anything else. A slight grin appeared on his face with the faintest set of hungry looking eyes. 'Your such a tease...' He turned his attention back to Laurel and... Her mother?

He sighed as his posture and face became more stoic with his head cocked slightly to the side. "A little early to introduce parents don't you think?" A twitch in the mouth. "Suleykaar, this is my mother Nadia. Mother, this is my acquaintance Suleykaar. He is friends with my roommate Kiara of the Unseelie Court."

"Friends? A bit of a rush to call us friends."

"Suls, from the way you two were interacting I wouldn't be opposed to the idea that you like her. Suley shot him a glare before looking away. "Preposterous. She is nothing but a mere toy for me to play with."  Anders smirked before drawing his attention back to Laurel and her mother.

".......You do." A light growl and a smoky snort came from Suley.

I do apologize for the digression. As stated I am Suleykaar and this here is my dear friend Anders." Anders gave an almost graceful bow before standing back up, his hand on the but his sword's hilt. It wasn't in a menacing manner but rather a gesture out of habit. It was comfortable.

"I see m'lady that beauty runs in the family. I would have expected nothing less." Suley rolled his eyes.

"What do we have here? A dragon and a human who smells of dragon. An armed human. Do tell young dragon, what use is an armed human to you?"

Anders spoke up before Suleykaar could answer. Instead Nadia's comment left Suley with a bad taste in his mouth. 'Smells of dragon? So this is the path you wish to walk, Gifted? So be it.' Suley looked over at Laurel and saw the pleading eyes at which he responded with the faintest of smiles.

"A friend and brother." If eyes could tell the history someone had with someone else, his word tell a story for the ages. They showed war and experience on the battlefield, they showed the loses he suffered and the painful hardships he dealt with. But more importantly, they showed the defensive side of Anders. His voice though only complemented what his eyes told.

Suley looked over at Anders with a smile before looking back at Laurel's mother, a snort of smoke escaping his nostrils. "If you were looking for a more in-depth answer you will not hear it. That is something between me and Anders and if you are displeased with said answer-"

He pointed over towards the door were the beginning of the hors d'oeuvres table. "There is a suggestion box by the door should you need to voice your complaints. Come Anders, I've been wanting to try this one thing called pizza." Him and Anders had begun to walk away until Suley had gotten this gleem in his eyes to which Anders took quick notice and sighed. ' Forgive me Laurel but I will NOT be spoken to like this."

"The funny thing is though, gifted-" A bit of venom was added in with gifted. His tone seemed to have shifted into what could be described as cockiness but for Suley it was more of a challenge towards Nadia as he turned to face the three of them. "the smell of human isn't any better and considering that the gifted-" Waving an open palm towards Nadia in a gesturing manner. "such as yourself are nothing more than glorified humans with magical capabilities, you carry this appalling scent that is just as pungent if not more so than any human thanks to that gifted side of you. It draws in this air that is a bit revolting but I guess that comes with the title, hm?" He contorted his face to that of a mild disgust as he sniffed the air.

[Assistant]
Morgan's blush didn't go unnoticed. So innocent, so tempting. But innocence wasn't very useful to an unseelie faerie. Lust would taste so much better. Piper grinned wickedly and Kiara smiled at her. Perhaps the girl would be more fun? Morgan introduced her as his sister, to which she promptly shoved him towards Kiara and insisted that he'd love to dance.

"Um.. Well then… Let's dance? I guess?" he stammered awkwardly. "You guess?" Kiara teased him with a laugh that sounded like tiny, tinkling bells. "My goodness, this place is so dull! It needs more faeries!" That much was true, Kiara had yet to meet another faerie at Rosa Claire, and boy was she looking! Perhaps that was for the best, though, what if she had met one and they turned out to be some seelie scum? Kiara nearly growled in disgust. But, there was the matter of flustered boy in front of her right now, whose feet were much to still, and she needed to do something about that.

"Come, leave your guessing behind…" Kiara insisted as she took hold of his wrists and tugged him towards the dancefloor. "A few moments with me, and you'll never want to stop." her tone was a seductive purr. Once among the crowd of dancing students, Kiara let go of his wrists and began to move to the beat of the music. The cool stone felt heavenly beneath her bare feet as spun around Morgan, always keeping at least one body part of hers in contact with him as they danced, much like a tango. Dancing with a faerie was enchanting and hypnotic, often leaving both partners with an overwhelming sense of euphoria. Back home, it was common practice for unseelie faeries to steal the humans that they found prettiest, and bring them back to Faerûn. The faeries would then tempt the humans with faerie foods which, after a single bite, would bind the humans to the faerie realm, where they would forever dance and play as the faeries watched, like one might admire the scene in a snowglobe. It was a cruel practice, but the unseelie were never known for their kindness.

The song came to a close and the crowd of students stilled their bodies in preparation for the next song. Kiara looked up to the rather tall warlock and her eyes shifted from yellow to a red color that was slightly deeper than her hair. Standing up on tiptoes, Kiara was able to plant a butterfly kiss on his cheek. She pinched the feathers on both sides of her dress as she curtsied before him. "Thank you for the dance." she said. Ever the slave to her unseelie temperament, Kiara flitted off to chase her next passion, leaving poor Morgan dazed and in the dust.

As most dances did, this ball offered a host of finger-foods and refreshments, and this little faerie had a hankering for something sweet. Kiara browsed the selection and decided on trying something labeled 'strawberries'. They were small, red fruits that somewhat resembled yelkies from back home, except yelkies were bright purple. Kiki was just about to try a nibble when a more mouthwatering scent reached her nose. Violence, bloodlust… war. Kiara looked to the source of the delicious aromatic assault: a tall, proud woman who stood beside Laurel across the room.

"War calls to you, doesn't it?" a deep, familiar voice asked from behind her. Kiara's eyes widened, could it be? "That's my blood in your veins." he explained.

Before she could even take a bite, the 'strawberry' fell from Kiara's fingers with a plop. Shocked, she turned slow on her heels until her eyes met her father's. His hair glistened like silver moonlight and his pale skin mirrored that of her own. Cynbel was a breathtaking representation of all the ferocity and beauty of the Unseelie Court. After a few moments of speechlessness, Kiara managed to squeak out a single word.

"Daddy!" Kiara chirped before throwing her scrawny arms around him. Cynbel chuckled and kissed the top of her head. He ran his hands down her arms and separated their hug enough so that he could get a good look at her. "By all the gods… you look just like her." His voice was rapt with emotion as he studied her, curling a lock of her cherry red hair around his finger. Kiara directed her gaze to the floor in shame. "But not just that," Cynbel continued and tilted her chin up so he could look once more into her eyes, smiling with pride. "Your beauty would make Queen Morrigan herself green with envy." That brought forth a smile and even a small blush from Kiara.

A slower song began to play and Cynbel extended a gloved hand to his daughter. "Care to share a dance with your old man?" Kiara wanted nothing more…

The pairs of dancing students and alumni gave Cynbel and Kiara a wide berth as they swayed to the soft music. Seeing the two of them together, it was no question where Kiara had inherited her aura of menace. Kiara closed her eyes and rested her head against her father's ornate breastplate, savoring each and every moment with him as they danced. He had told her that he could only stay for a song or two but his presence, however brief, meant the world to the daughter he only saw a few times a year.

"Should I introduce myself?" Cynbel's voice caused her eyes to snap open once again. "To whom?" Kiara mumurred. "The man staring at staring at us." Kiki was about to ask a humorous, yet relevant question: 'which one?' before her father added, "He's about my height with long black and red hair…" Kiara froze up, if only slightly. "Oh! No. No... that won't be necessary." she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing completely.

"Oh reealllyy?" Cynbel mused.


[System]
* Age: 18
* Gender: Female
* Appearance:
* Personality:
Haruko is unambitious, preferring to do things for her won sake. She does not seek anyone else's approval but her own. Life is taken one day at a time and she prefers not to dwell on any doubts or fears but tackles them them head on instead. She is compassionate and polite, treating others and their problems with the same attitude that she would prefer they treat her.
* Skills: Haruka is skilled in Judo and as a result her body is very fit. She also has a exceptional memory and has little difficulty in working her way through life's everyday problems.
* Equipment: A modern smartphone with a smartwatch that has a braille interface that allows her to read whatever she runs her finger over on the phones screen. The phone is also connected to a Bluetooth earbud.
She also has a white cane to aid in navigation.
* Soul Arts:
	+ Second Sight: Haruko sees through the eyes and to a limited degree can hear and feel the sensations felt by another person. With some effort she can also make small changes to what they sense for better or for worse. Maybe in time she will be able to use this ability on more than one target. This goes behind her right ear.
* Brief Backstory: In her first year of junior high school Haruko suffered injuries in a car accident that left her blind in both eyes. She missed a full year of school to recover and relearn how to live her life. The change in circumstance did little to change her attitude towards life, but presented new challenges to overcome.
After returning to classes she became active in the schools Judo team, Judo being a sport that caters particularly well to the blind. She made friends most readily with those on the team and had few outside of it. In competition Haruko did well but had no desire to compete at any higher level. Haruko is a year behind in her classes, now in high school, and continues with the same hobbies.

[User]
"...As long as you can keep it short. The quicker we get home, the better it'll be," Manami replied, her tone completely lacking in the casual spirit displayed by Keita. The disciplinarian seemed incapable of dropping her no-nonsense persona, even after school hours, which made conversations very difficult with her. Not that she seemed to notice. After all, Manami was only looking out for her fellow students. She walked alongside him to the supermarket, deciding she could get a few supplies in the meantime. If nothing else, it'd be one or two less items on the list for the weekly shopping later on.

Her eyes glanced towards him as he tried to advertise his father's restaurant in an awkward manner. What had gotten him so flustered, all of a sudden? Perhaps he was worried about pushing his family's products? How silly. Manami may be tough about studying, but even she could understand if familial obligations took precedent... somewhat. Either way, it was disheartening to know that the issues with Strange Gospel were even affecting their business. She held no illusion that her patronage alone would keep them afloat, but every little could help, right? Besides, it couldn't be so dire that they were about to close up shop or anything.

"I don't mind visiting, I suppose," Manami replied to Keita's advertisement coolly, "if nothing else, I suppose it gives me an opportunity to discuss your slacking with your family..."

Manami was more likely serious with that statement. She wasn't known for her wit, after all.

[Assistant]
HOSHITANI YUUGA

Yuuga froze at the sudden announcement, dropping the last of the arrows into storage. This was… uh… What?

He flipped through his mental catalogue of the students of Yamamura High, hastily trying to identify the girl addressing him. Chiyu Shoukei. Pink hair. Second year. Treasurer, surprisingly. Now this was an interesting case.

Cute. Diligent. But notably unpopular. These were just things he'd heard through the grapevine. All three qualities seemed completely justified from the bluntness she'd just shoved in the faces of everyone in hearing distance. It was the last point that made Yuuga jot a mental note to avoid spending too much time with the Treasurer. Reputation, both good and bad, had a habit of spreading quickly.

The girl's sudden interruption had roused a sudden wave of whispers from the club members. They'd heard her budget cut announcement too, huh. Not ideal.

The long-haired boy glanced around for the club president. The guy was currently indisposed, having gone with the advisor to discuss tournament details. Guess Yuuga had to cover as the face of the club. Geez, if he'd known that having his arrow-nocking image emblazoned on this year's recruitment papers would bring so much trouble he never would have agreed to it. At least club membership had gone up by at least 150%.

All eyes were on him. It was up to him to protect the club's prosperity. Yuuga felt his back stiffen reflexively at the realisation. Damn. He didn't even know how to handle club finances. He could've just told the girl to wait until President came back, or just pointed her towards the staff room. Or…

He could make this look good.

"Woah, hey!" the tall boy raised his hands in surrender, flashing an awkward but still sparkling smile. Those sorts of showy moves usually eased troubling situations. All he needed to do was stall until President returned. And girls generally did whatever they could to spend more time with Yuuga. This should be easy!

"Can't we discuss this a little before any hasty decisions are made? What brought this on anyway?"

[User]
"Yeah, don't worry, I shouldn't be too long," Keita responded in turn, pausing for a moment as his companion commented that she'd end up discussing his 'slacking' with his family instead. His pace slowed for a moment before the programmer shook his head and looked at the young woman beside him with a look of incredulity.

"...Really. My slacking? I don't think you can call placing in the top 5 rankings on every exam we've taken 'slacking', Motoyama-san. Though it may be the start of the school year, I'm still able to keep up with you, y'know. Well, 'cept for anything athletic, but that'd cut into time I have set aside elsewhere. Even so, catching a few z's during break isn't on the level of 'slacking', is it?" he continued on, a plastic basket whisked off its place on the stack and now hanging on the crook of his arm, before the young man walked over to the produce section to scan over what they had of... Reasonable quality.

"Regardless, thanks for hearing me out, though. My dad's been getting waaaay too many grey hairs over this mess, and I fear I might follow suit. Most stressful weeks of my life, I tell you what," he remarked, picking up a potato and looking it over from multiple angles before chucking it (along with a few others) into a plastic bag. "Hm... Today's feeling like a curry day, from the looks of things... Meat's next on the list, I guess... Ah, goddamn, can't decide. Yo, whaddya think is a good fit for curry in April? Pork, chicken or beef?"

The question itself seemed to come out of nowhere, but as programmers were, lazy was lazy. If someone else could make the choice for him, then it'd end up saving him some time staring at the choices until he finally gave up.

Deciding on food was easy, but when it came to choices within choices, well... He wasn't so quick on the draw there.

[Assistant]
Maiko made a faux pouting face in response to Hikaru's statement. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to go and get kidnapped on my own then." She had already made up her mind that it didn't matter much either way. She also wasn't about to just stop living her life because she might get nabbed at any time. While she might not need the money, she kind of enjoyed her work, and when it came to a mysterious force that could seemingly kidnap you from anywhere, it's not like it mattered if she biked around the city or hid away in the bowels of her house.

"Speeeeeeaking of which, I do kinda sorta need to get back to work. The people still need their newspapers. Heck, Strange Gospel is what half of the newspapers are all about..." It was almost like Strange Gospel was finding a way to permeate into every aspect of her life, sometimes. "Oh, and could you write me a note or something to mention this? If I'm late finishing up, I'm going to need to prove this happened so I don't seem like I just stood around for a while." However, Maiko did think she could still feasibly finish on time in spite of this delay. It was better to have an excuse on hand just in case though. They were definitely going to notice that she didn't finish at the same time she usually did.

[User]
CHIYU SHOUKEI

We already discussed this for hours.

It wasn't that she didn't understand where the upperclassman was coming from, but he definitely wasn't the first person to protest to her about the Student Council's decisions. Although yeah they were at least protesting to the right person, given that she did give opinions on where and how to balance the budget but the President was still the one who made all the final decisions, and that decision (after all the discussions back in the meeting room) was that the Archery Club was going to have to deal with having less cash around for the time being.

"Sorry senpai," she replied apologetically, a note of formality dripping into her cadence as she gave the archer a short bow. The one where she was bowing, not the weapon that the guy probably already had. She needed to pull back a bit; that had been way too direct and casual. But damn this was getting awkward.

She really should've thought things out more instead of being stuck bowing to Hoshitani in front of his entire club. All the attention being put on her was really, really not what she was down the alley for, or something like that. She had just wanted to talk a bit about the budget then leave and find the next guy so she could get home before it got too late.

Goodbye, pillow-chan. I'll see you tomorrow night instead.

"The President decided that you didn't need as many funds," Shoukei continued, looking back up. She was beginning to feel very aware of all the gazes in her direction. She needed to find a distraction. Like that funny smile on Hoshitani's face. "All the clubs are undergoing budget rebalances, not just Archery."

The administration was pretty intent on funnelling more money into the Kendo club. Every other club she'd talked to today were victims of the intense desire to throw more money at their most successful sports ... physical activity? She didn't know if kendo was actually a sport. But yeah, she had been telling a lot of people about budget cuts today, and there were still a few more places on the list.

She really wanted to go home, but this was her responsibility.

[Assistant]
HOSHITANI YUUGA

"Oh really?" Yuuga raised an eyebrow but cringed when Chiyu bowed. This girl really didn't know how to sugar-coat, huh.

This was not the sort of response he wanted with so many people watching. Were his club members going to think of him as some kind of tyrant? Or was he gonna come off as more of a charismatic diplomat type? He guessed that it depended on what kind of stance he was taking, whatever the mood was. And right now the mood was getting really, awkwardly formal. Yuuga laughed nervously in response. He needed to defuse quickly.

"All the clubs, huh? Even those guys on the Kendo team?"

Damn, was that too on the nose? Too cynical? He must've sounded like a salty bastard just then. Quickly now, before the tide of conversation became too unfavourable for the both of them.

"I mean… it's just that…" More effort into his smile. Don't let the Treasurer know that he had no idea what he was doing. Yuuga scratched his head, recalling President's rant last week about the other 'glory-hogging sport hounds' and their budget bonuses, "The Kendo Club's the school's clear favourite. Nothing wrong with that. But we've got more than twice as many recruits than last year. You'll have to ask Prez for more details but personally I don't know how we're gonna handle these many members with a cut budget. Are you sure there's no way to work around us?"

Was that good enough? No, one more push should do it.

"And this is just between us," Yuuga said lowly, knowing full well that his club members were listening in, "But we've got a lotta first years still showing up. Wayy more than we can handle with a cut budget. Plus, kyudo's been a staple in the school community for ages! A lotta people could get affected here."

His strategically off-hand remark triggered whispers of agreement from the older club members, garnering some small satisfaction in him. Jackpot. Even if he couldn't negotiate their budget back, it'd still look like he tried.

[User]
Sasegawa Hikaru, the Stalwart Lightning Detective of Yamamura

In the face of that pout, Hikaru was as stonefaced as ever. It was regrettable that they couldn't spare escorts for every potential victim of the kidnappings, but there wasn't any way that they could possibly supply that many officers. The best option was to increase patrols, especially around areas that had the most density of kidnappings. At the moment, that was worryingly a rough ring around Yamamura High School. But from what she understood, it wasn't limited to this city. No, other departments across Japan were dealing with their own rash of disappearances. There had to be some sort of organized element here, but what was it? Was it some kind of strange cult? Some sort of terrorist organization?

Of course, this internal speculation was cut short when Umeda Maiko asked for a note to explain why she'd been held up. It only made sense, and there was no reason not to provide it. Taking a notepad from her pocket, Hikaru scrawled a swift note down.

Held up during investigation. Apologies.
Detective Sasegawa Hikaru

She quickly offered the note to the girl.

"If anything strange happens, be certain to report it, no matter what it is," Hikaru asserted.

[Assistant]
— Convenience Store —

Haruko took the bread and walked up to the counter, pulling out a handful of coin from her bag and sorting out the correct amount.

"Sure, that sounds great."

She put the rest of the coins away along with the bread and lifted the bag onto her shoulder. Haruko didn't really know the other student that well either.

"Well, I think a movie might be a bad idea, but anything else sounds good."


[System]
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Species: Human

Physical Description:
Gray stands at 5'11. He is broad-shouldered and lanky, his advantage against his enemies is obviously not brute strength yet he has exercised thoroughly to try to make up some of the difference if he ever has to get that close. He has a long face and a pointed chin and hazel eyes, characteristics that seems to run in his family. His hair color is dark brown and he has mutton chops and doesn't bother to manage his hair so it stands pretty unkempt. He keeps it just short enough in the front that it won't become a problem in combat.

Talents:
Creative Combatant - Gray is a very experienced killer and it comes mainly from his ability to think on his feet and react quickly. Even without weapons on his person he can figure out ways to kill something by using his environment and playing dirty. He certainly doesn't hold back on the playing dirty part which might irk off those noble vampires or whatever the hell else thinks they have some kind of fair fighting spirit in combat. It's always life or death and Gray doesn't plan on being the one dying.

Broad Monster Knowledge - Gray knows how to kill all the common creeps. Werewolves, vampires, zombies(Those are the easy ones), etc. It comes from a personal history of doing just that. If he can't kill it he'll get away and study for some way to do so. After all, his hefty pay check rides on this important task.

Extensive Arms Experience - Gray is both a military veteran and an arms enthusiast. As such he has both experience and extensive practice with firearms. Having talent and practice make him a very accurate shot with long weapons in particular.

History:
Killing monsters runs in the family and family is what really matters. Gray grew up with values, often unapparent to others, that keep him from going too far in the field. He grew up with several brothers and a sister and for the earliest part of his life had no idea what his family really did. They sheltered him from it until he was ready to know the truth. That truth didn't come until it was nearly too late.

Gray joined the military. He was in the army on tour in the middle east when he encountered his first taste of the supernatural world. They seemed like normal middle-eastern villagers. Lured into their village on their patrol, Gray's team didn't pose a very good chance. They had the resilience and constitution of ghouls. Meaning they wouldn't go down without a good headshot or leg shot. Most of his team was felled by their inhuman stamina with mere farm tools. Their adversary was quick and dangerous but he had and the remainder of his squad had the resolve to survive. It wasn't until later that he understood what they were. They weren't undead. They were the "blessed warriors" of a demonic duke known as Abigor that had been piggybacking on wars and feeding off of them since iron was used as a weapon. It made sense why he'd be making his rounds in the most war torn nation in the world.

On his return to the States Gray reunited with his family. Upon hearing his experience they began to explain to him the finer parts of their history. The Conover's have been killing monsters for nearly two-hundred years. Gray had a legacy he was willing to uphold.

Unfortunately that legacy was difficult to acquire with the councils of creatures banded together throughout the world. With the councils keeping everything in check his family didn't indulge in hunting so much anymore. The councils were a necessary evil but they were still monsters and Gray couldn't personally trust them to keep things steady. He needed a group that would let him bypass getting a hit on his head by an organization that vastly overpowered him. It took a while and he took up jobs killing rogue beasts in the process which the council overlooked because of the nature of the cases. He wasn't that good at first. Not many people are. The evil monsters that let themselves be tracked by an amateur are generally the easiest to kill. Gray had mistakes and near-death experiences but his resolve and ingenuity always had the tendency to save him.

When you're feeling hand over hand through the dark you always find something.

Psychological Profile: Gray seems to be morally ambiguous to people who don't know him. To those who do, they see the bold line he won't cross. If a creature isn't a killer and has no potential to be he won't take its life. He sees many jobs he's taken as necessary evil to protect humanity. Overall he views himself as a protector, but damn if he doesn't like a good paycheck.
Gray loves humor in all its forms. He'd be pretty depressing if he couldn't take a good joke every now and then. Even if it's completely misplaced and awkward.

Possessions:
Gray has two large suitcases that are normally too heavy for normal airport admittance. One stores his set of armor. The armor is customizable on the job with many spots for Kevlar inserts, a bite guard, a helmet and a few other minor items to help him adapt to circumstances. Teeth, claws or (preferably not) bullets. He's got something to give him some edge.

Aside from a few spots in the first suitcase for some Glocks and ammunition (Affordability, you lose guns a lot when you're hunting.) he has saved room in his other suitcase for a few sets of street clothes(primarily gray t-shirts, blue jeans and a black jacket) and a compartment for his modified AA12 with silver slugs in three drum magazines. Either crammed in this case or in a car he keeps an Ares 16 with a variety of attachments for use as a long-to-mid range rifle and a grenade launcher(For that beasty who just doesn't want to go down).

Gray wears a small titanium chain around his neck that has several items dangling from it. A small pot-like skull about the size of a thumb that has dried herbs in it, consisting primarily of wolf's bane to ward off a werewolf's ability to smell him. A small alienish shell filled with holes is also affixed to it. This shell happens to be the only item he has that is magic and he only uses it as a last chance item. Thankfully he's only ever used it once before. He isn't quite sure if it has lasting consequences but man does it become handy in a bind. By saying a set of keywords the artifact teleports him an indeterminate distance away to a random location(or whatever location it wants him at, he really has no idea if it has its own agenda. Eerie). The last item dangling from his chain is a simple Celtic cross because it's cool.

A useful item that is never far from his reach is his trusty silver kukri knife.

Yes, and:
Arachne, a master of information has a real talent for finding what she needs and hiding what should stay hidden. Well, Arachne found Gray Conover. A relatively easy, if a little volatile, person to manipulate and point at targets. Contracting Gray for missions with a high paycheck is really quite easy to do.

[User]
With the door open Autumn entered. Having eyes everywhere she didn't bother much with looking around. But of course Grey did not know that. A great amount of effort went into hiding that Autumn Weltich and Arachne, Queen of Spiders were one in the same. Those in on it consisted mostly of court members that she had a hold of. If others knew then they would kill every one of her children that dared show itself. However here circumstances were quite a bit different. Both of them were not getting out of this and she needed someone she could trust. But to prevent any trouble from arising later she most likely was going to need to reveal her secret to the human before her. There were not many humans that could claim to have seen Arachne as she truly was and live to tell about it.

Crossing her arms whilst listening she processed the information. Grey always did quick work and this was no exception. Autumn could trust his word over the sketchy information floating about. Part of what he said she knew already, but having confirmation was good. She nodded in reference to their previous encounter. That had been some years ago and she pulled him out of the fire then. A rare smile flashed itself across her face. Humans were always nostalgic about things. Hard to blame them with such a short life span. Casually looking around the room she waited till he finished to speak up. "Excellent work. I have noticed several of the same particulars you have. Some of our employees that are more in the know have not returned. They are trapped in here like the rest of us. I'd rather not get them involved though so I haven't contacted them. Probably best it stays that way." He spoke low which meant there wasn't much in the way od privacy here. This would not make a good place to stay for very long. They almost would be better off in a much higher end suite than down here among the rabble. But that might not be a great place to start a brood.

"We are going to need a better place to stay. You're really the only one I trust enough not to kill me in my sleep. But there is something that I must show you that you may not be pleased about. But not here." Something drew her attention and she looked off to the side a bit. No one was there, but she seemed to be listening intently. "If we are going to move then now might be a good opportunity. Pack your things and make yourself presentable."

[Assistant]
Another concussive blast barrelled into the wall Beth hid behind. The shockwave sent even her into the street, her concentration hampered by the endless tirade of bullets and noise. Her body flickered in and out of tangibility as she rolled across the road. Bullets coursed right through her, each one starting a ripple of burns through her form. Albeit the only physical pain she was ever likely to feel again, the combination pissed her off.

Enough, apparently, to set some things in motion. One of those things happened to be the nearest dumpster. Beth tossed the oversized trash can towards the origin of the bullets and used the momentary lapse in their barrage to pin her sights on the daycare center. Her spiritual spidey sense couldn't get a lock on anything, but she saw the rest of their merry band taking up arms. As soon as Flint erected a solid dirt shield, Beth darted behind it.

She heard someone shouting and it took her a second to give the voice a name—Parry's telltale tone clued her in. She perked up at the sound of her name.

"Making a mess is what I'm good for," she called back to him and took off.

Beth took a shortcut through—literally, through—the buildings on the right side of the street and came around to the back of the shooters. She didn't bother to count them. What was the point? Numbers had no effect on the already-dead. She threw herself into the body of the closest assailant.

Whoever this was, they were not wholly human. Mortal, perhaps, except it felt like they'd been tampered with. They fought the possession with a strength unfamiliar to most mortals, and dropped their semi-automatic in the process, but Beth's fifteen years of experience won out. The internal struggle only fuelled her abilities. She snatched up the gun and returned fire.

[User]
Rikive pulled her hand away from her injury when the pain started to fade, looking toward Parael when he shouted his plan. It was good, but what if they pursued them rather than go into the building? Flint's dirt barrier's didn't look like they held up to bullets well, much less the fiery death the enemy could rain down upon them.

At her hip, Rikive felt Winterthorn begin to shake in its sheath. Blinking she shifted to look at the sword, being sure to keep her head down. The old weapon had never done anything such as this before. Untying it from her belt she pulled the sword around in front of her. She slid the blade from it's black and silver sheath, the soft ringing sound of sliding metal filling her ears over the loud gunfire.

She looked at the sword, waiting for it to do something when she felt the sheath move. Her eyes snapped to it and widened, watching the scabbard turn to mist over her arm. It felt as though leather straps wrapped around her arm before the cloud of mist solidified into a black and silver round shield.

For a moment she stared at the shield before shaking her head to be rid of the shock. She rolled over onto her back and lifted her shield covered arm into the air, shutting her eyes tight to brace for possible pain. She felt the impact of the bullet's into her shield but her arm remained steady. Opening her eyes she saw the bullets embedded into the surface of the shield but they hadn't broken to the other side.

"Ha!" She laughed, her mouth spreading into a wide grin. "You beauty!"

[Assistant]
Moving made sense. If this rebellious faction were paranoid enough to attack these two strangers the thin walls of this little motel room would be like paper to a beast's claws. "Thanks." He said in response to the compliment. Gray threw on his black jacket to conceal the shoulder holsters beneath and tossed the remaining loose articles into his suitcase. She was right to keep other people out of this, no need for additional corpses.

Gray laughed a little as she mentioned that she trusted him enough to not kill her in her sleep. "Don't make me blush." His mood became a little heavier at the mention of something he may not like. It was mysterious. Not that he didn't know she may very well have enough information to topple a small nation. More disturbing was the fact that she wanted to share some of that with him when it wasn't her norm . Tension's rising.

"I don't know if you drove in or not but I'm taking the suburban. It's got the rest of my stuff." Gray hefted the suitcase up and started on down the hall. When the suburban had quit on him as he attempted to leave it started up again when he wanted to go back into town like nothing had happened to it to begin with. Damn magic. At the exit he stopped. The all too familiar noises of explosive combat hailed his ears in the far distance. These guys had explosives. Great.

Ignoring the distraction for the time being he popped the back of the suburban open and crammed the suitcase in with its sister. He had no idea who was who in this town and what sides were fighting. He was at this point a confused bystander - and man did he hate it! "I'd love to get out there." Gray shook his head with a frown. "Let's figure this mess out before they blow up the rest of the city." He got in the driver's side and made ready to take directions from Autumn. They would have to avoid the conflict for now. Unless Autumn knew who they were they'd both be in the way.


[System]
Age: 23

Magic: Tatsumi has a natural proficiency for Darkness magic, the dangerous nature of the skill perfectly fitting his reckless nature. Despite the risks he relies heavily upon his magic in combat.

Weapon: It is perhaps a stroke of irony, or typecasting, that the first weapon Tatsumi received upon arriving in the World of Wasted Dreams was a katana. He wields the sword as his primary weapon, favoring it greatly over other weapons. When forced to attack from a range Tatsumi does not rely upon conventional weaponry, instead turning to the somewhat dubious magic he wields. Besides his skill with the katana Tatsumi is a skilled martial artist, noted as a practitioner of Muay Thai and Kendo.

Bio: I remember something... it feels so long ago. It's like another life... The Shinai made a harsh thunk as they repeatedly crashed against each other. I can hear that sound so clearly, but everything else feels distant. He knew that the match that happened there was what mattered most to him. Everything else was pointless. Yes... that's what matters. The opponent. The dojo. Nothing else. I remember... wanting a life like that. A life of adventure, where I fought seemingly insurmountable foes... but I won. The thunks sped up, blows of increasing fury meeting each other. But one simple slip up, and it was over. There was no protective gear, was there? Why? After that, everything was fuzzy.

He remembered the blinding white lights of the hospital. Being propelled down the hallway on the gurney. The thumping, throbbing, all-consuming pain in his head. And the blood. The blood was everywhere.

And then Tatsumi woke up. That must've been a dream, nothing about that made sense... Tatsumi wasn't sure where he was, but it felt right. He knew he belonged here.

Personality: Tatsumi is perhaps first noted by those he meets for his sheer amicability. He's very friendly and outgoing, and meets strangers with an unusual eagerness to make friends. He's a natural when it comes to getting along with people, and is bound to make new friends in every locale he visits. He has what could be defined as a 'hero complex', wishing to be seen by those around him as someone strong, someone to admire. He's a paragon of morality, a shameless goody-two-shoes. He's incredibly helpful, willing to lend a hand to those in need, notably a sucker for the 'damsel in distress' stereotype, oft going out of his way to save the girl.

Tatsumi's negative features come in the form of his cocksureness. He's dangerously confident, reckless, and ridiculously cocky. Naturally, this combined with his wont to be a hero leads him to crave adventure and danger. Despite his somewhat 'goofy' attitude Tatsumi is surprisingly bright, perceptive, and calculating. When approaching an enemy clearly out of his league he always endeavors to have a plan to beat the insurmountable odds.

Underneath Tatsumi's shell of cheerfulness even he seems to harbor some sadness: Perhaps some lingering resentment from his time in the world before that of Wasted Dreams...

[User]
Jenniver looked to either side of her as what she could only describe as monsters took a rather unhealthy interest in her, with the holy book in her hand she slowly reached around to her back. At the moment the two beasts lunged for her she felt something click, a switch flipped and her body moved more gracefully than she could have ever imagined with such a large sword. Spinning around she lowered the blade so it lined up with her back to block the incoming strikes!

As the two attacks slammed into her the tip of the sword dug into the slabs below from the sheer force that hit her, thankfully stopping her from being flung back, and the book she had used as a cousin did its job wonderfully~ "That hurt about as much as I was expecting..." She was being suprised by this world by the moment and a certain amount of fear and glee welled up inside her, not that one could tell just from her face mind you.

Reaching up she placed her other hand on the large hilt of her blade before using the leverage she had to force the blade up, attemping to knock the beasts weapons above her head as she unleashed her own attack! The pages of the now ruined holy book fluttered around her as she gracefully extended her foot to use her falling swords momentum to swing it as hard as she could towards both of the beasts midsections!

[Assistant]
The steps came naturally to Tatsumi. He slashed diagonally, the monster ducking the blow then skirting out of reach. Tatsumi knew he had to assert himself and pressed the attack, lunging forward with an overhead blow. The creature barely blocked, and Tatsumi pulled away momentarily, keeping up the pressure with another blow from the side. Another block, but Tatsumi kept going, this time he sent a sudden kick towards the creatures knee, catching it off guard and sending it to its knees. Tatsumi unleashed a series of overhead strikes to beat the beast down, but it managed to raise its sword and defend against the assault. Tatsumi delivered another kick, aiming for the creature's chest, sending it sprawling onto the ground. Tatsumi went for the finishing blow, stabbing downwards towards the beast's stomach.

Tatsumi himself was surprised by his aptitude with the sword. He was momentarily surprised, but than recalled the battle with wooden swords once again. He had experiencing fighting like this. Except this time if he made a mistake he would die.

[User]
"You think I know nothing yet you haven't even been here for a single day. I've been here for what feels like centuries. In that time, I've seen more than you could ever imagine." Leo put the girl in her place and prepared to take his leave, but when he turned away she quickly jumped in front of him and grabbed ahold of his hand. "You know what? I like your determination. You're literally shaking in your boots yet you managed to muster the courage to speak your mind. That's the kind of attitude that will get you somewhere in life. Do you really want to know what's out there? It's just as I said. Nothing. There is nothing out there besides suffering and pain. I have traveled for hundreds of miles in every direction. This is just the eye of the storm. The further out you go, the worse it gets. If you don't believe me then you are more than welcome to accompany me on my journey. It's been a while since I've talked to someone besides myself." Under his mask, Leo's face wore an unnaturally twisted smile. If you could see it you would you would think he was in excruciating pain.

"My name is Leo. Don't ask for my last name because I can't remember it." Without letting go of her hand, Leo turned towards the city gates and began to drag Macey behind him like she was a piece of luggage. If it wasn't for the random villager who approached the two they would have left without ever turning back. "You see that Macey? Even the village people mistake you for one of their own. You should really do something about the way you look..... As for you big fellow. Why don't you take a nap?" Reaching into his pocket Leo grabbed a small vial and held it under the man's nose. Immediately after smelling the what was in the vial the man collapsed. After a few seconds, he began to snore rather loudly. "Now let's go see what this commotion at town hall is all about."

When Leo reached the town center he was greeted by far more than he had expected. On one side of the fight was a group of fresh hunters. On the other side was a group of beast men. "That's enough fighting for today" Leo chimed in. "Didn't anyone tell you I was the only one around here who could disturb the peace?" Leo then suddenly tossed a strange canister in between the two groups. After a few seconds, it began to release a thick cloud of mysterious green gas. "Unless you want to be blind for the next few days I'd recommend getting out of the gas."

[Assistant]
Sinthe finished the job on the dog that he had beaten senseless, grabbed the dog monster by it's muzzle and the back of it's head with both hands and quickly snapped it's neck with a loud popping sound, he stood up and noticed the others attacking the rest of the dog monsters with their weapons and magic."Magic and Weapons." Sinthe shook his head before crossing his arms and keeping his eyes on the action, when he saw Tastumi stab the beast in the gut he shook his head."Don't aim for the gut, aim higher, stab your enemies in the chest or cut their heads off." Sinthe told Tastumi.

Before they could take down the rest of the dogsmorphs, there was a burst of green gas that filled the air, Sinthe covered his mouth with his bandaged forearm."Get out of the cloud of gas !" He yelled Tastumi and Akemi, he grabbed both of them and began running out of the cloud of gas and towards the guy that threw the gas bomb, when he had Tastumi and Akemi out of the cloud he let go of them and looked at Leo."Did you throw the gas bomb ?" Sinthe asked, he didn't sound threatening or angry but sounded curious.

[User]
One by one, the monsters were being finished off by the newfound Hunters. They battled with unrivaled skill, almost as if the touch of a blade in their hands was something felt before, perhaps in some earlier time. The beastmen perished at the hands of these unmatched warriors, retreat no longer an option as they were cut into bloodied corpses.

The remaining creature that still breathed was the first, the one Akemi had been torching. With half of its right eye gouged out, it lunged in a final attempt to kill the fools before it. Only half of its vision remained and that half would soon be snuffed out completely as a torrent of green gas covered the area. The beastman howled in pain, clawing out blindly as its eyes burned and stung.

Before it could retaliate, something sharp and wicked pierced its black heart through the matted fur, slashing crookedly against its chest. With a final cry, the monster collapsed forward in the middle of the green gas. Something was off however, for the finishing blow came not from one of the Hunters present, but from an external source. Who or what it was couldn't be said for sure as the presence quickly left as soon as it had appeared.

Only the sharpest of minds not corrupted by their exposure through time here would have been able to note the arrival and departure of this mysterious savior. The battle was over, coming to a fitting close. The stink of corpses already filled the air, only baffled more so by the continued apathy the townsfolk displayed. Their lust for bloodshed satisfied, they carried on with their bleak lives.

The woman from before, who had inadvertently started this whole mess, finally creeped out of her hiding spot. With a neutral expression, she strolled right up to Tatsumi, the one who had initially helped her escape. It was to be assumed that she would thank the young man for his hard work. Thus, it must have come as a deep surprise when the woman brutally slapped Tatsumi.

"Fool," she hissed with angry tears in her eyes. "You've ruined the ritual! Are you mad? H-How could you….why would you interfere!"

The woman's voice became louder and louder in pitch as she backed away like a panicked animal. Dry sobs heaved her body as she pointed an accusing finger at Tatsumi.

"Heretic! Heretic! I drowned my own daughter, consumed the flesh of my only son, and this is how I am repaid for my sins?"

She was making no sense and was only becoming more paranoid until she finally brushed up against the town well. Turning to look down at the dark hole, she turned to Tatsumi and flashed him a smile of triumph. Hope was not lost yet.

"Ut absolutam gratiam tuam," she spat to him before jumping over and plummeting to her watery grave. The splash was only countered by the loud crack of bones being split and flesh being splintered.

The woman had killed herself.

[Assistant]
Tatsumi suddenly found himself lifted off the ground, taken away from the green gas by Sinthe. All the beasts were dead but one, the one that had originally engaged him. The creature began bounding towards the group, but was suddenly silenced, a blade suddenly erupting from its chest, only to suddenly disappear. What?! Was that and effect of the gas? No, that can't make sense... someone else must've killed it. But he's left so quick! Tatsumi got up from the ground which he had been not-so-gently placed by Sinthe. "Well, that went well, for our first fight. Thanks for your help, errrr..." He looked towards the man in the bird mask, "What should I call you?" The young man asked politely, "I'm Tatsumi."

Tatsumi's introduction was suddenly interrupted as the women he had rescued began to approach him, I'm glad she's safe. Maybe if I'm lucky she'll have some information, and maybe a place I could st- He was taken aback as he was suddenly slapped in the face. He rubbed his face "Wha-" Suddenly she was yelling at him, calling him a heretic, ranting on about her crimes. Killed her own daughter? Consumed the flesh of her son? How could a person do something like that? His expression morphed to one of shocked horror.

"I-I..." Tatsumi was at a loss for words.

And then she backed into the well, and everything got worse. The moment she smiled at him he knew what came next. "Wait! No!" He stretched out his hand and ran for the well, but it was too late. She was gone before he could get even halfway there. He ran to the well and looked over the cusp. Dead. He looked back to the group and shook his head, then turned away. He stalked away from the square, heading down the main street, and down into the alley that lay between the tavern and the building next to it. He didn't want the others to see how pitifully weak he was. Once he was out of view, a tear ran free down his face.

I've never seen someone die... I couldn't save her... but is it really right to feel bad for someone like that? Her words ringed once again in his head, "I drowned my own daughter, consumed the flesh of my only son, and this is how I am repaid for my sins?" He braced himself against the wall of the tavern, This doesn't make any sense, she was crying for help! This place doesn't make any sense! More tears flowed down his face. "Dammit!" He shouted out loud, pounding his fist against the wall. He felt useless and weak.


[System]
Appearance Description: He's 6'5 and 198 pounds. What more can I say?
Age: 17
Year: 2
Reason for Joining: Gael didn't have a mystery club back in Norway, and it sounded like a fun thing to try out. So essentially, yeah, he IS curious about these Seven Mysteries.
Skills: Gael's most prominent point is less a skill and more of a quality. Being a foreigner, and one that goes out of his way to regularly exercise, his physical attributes are top notch. Chances are, in his year, he is unparalleled in strength and stamina. He's probably more physically impressive than most of the third years as well.
Being an international student with a knack for languages, this particular student is capable of speaking four different languages fluently: Norwegian (home country), English (international language), Japanese (international transfer program), and German (personal interest).
Funnily enough, he's also frighteningly skilled at making desserts, his repertoire spanning from crepes to egg tarts, cakes to rice sake. Maybe it's because he has a sweet tooth? Or maybe it's because he wants to become a cross-country dessert vendor.
Gael has started taking lessons in singing just since last year, and considers himself to be better than the average student. Not that it means much.

Personality: Gael Ericsson is a free spirit, someone whose self-confidence borderlines arrogance. He's an audacious, prideful figure, caring little for what society as a whole thinks of him. If he wants to do something, he'll do it. If he doesn't want to do something, he won't do it. And while he IS smart enough to know when to back down, all the compromises that he makes are simply what he considers to be 'tactical retreats'. An impossible situation to him is merely an interesting challenge, and, above everything else, Gael absolutely adores challenges. In a way, it's almost as if he's what you'd get if you combined a stubborn idiot with a talented elitist. Thankfully, he's at least capable of showing some degree of kindness to those that he considers his friends.

Biography: People often think that a colorful individual like Gael Ericsson obviously must have an equally colorful past that made him who he was. Unfortunately, he didn't. For as long as Gael could remember, he had always just felt like an invincible superhero, superior to all those around him. Born in a normal family, in a coastal town in Norway, he spent his early years scampering around in the port, cheekily stowing onto fishing boats and the like. His parents rarely indulged in his antics, and punishment in the form of slaps or chores was common. It's not like Gael disliked it though, because it served to toughen himself up. Hard work builds character, as his father always said.

It was when he was older, in elementary school, that he realized that his hometown was too small for him. Applying for a lower secondary school in the big city, he began to study as hard as he pleased, drinking in new sights until he tired of them at the age of 15. By then, he was aware of international schools in the area, and, without another thought, applied. Out of whim, Gael chose Japan, and out of hard work, he managed to raise his Japanese language skills to a high enough level that he was selected to be one of the few students who would be sent to finish their education in the Land of the Rising Sun. Others congratulated his luck.

Gael knew that it was all just skill.

At the age of 16, he found himself a nice little suite to live in, and began his school life in Miyama Academy as one of the more…interesting individuals at school. Gael did love the attention though.
Relationships: N/A
Other: He likes looking down at people. Physically and mentally.

[User]
April 26th. After School. Classroom A-013

It was the after school, and the only person in the classroom filled with the orange rays of light of the afternoon was a single girl. The president, Hiiragi Tsumiki, was reading a book while she sat on a single chair, put in the middle of the room right beside a table. The other chairs were all piled up in the back and the room was neatly cleaned up. There were merely some things lying on the desk, as well as some other things inside the lockers and whatnot that should have been used by the students that would use the classroom under normal circumstances. If there was something normal about the classroom, at the very least.

A repugnant, malicious aura came out of, well, everything about it. Anyone else would hardly be able to remain calm under the oppressive aura. However, for president Hiiragi, that was nothing. She was already used to it. Two years in there, two years that seemed to be even longer than that. She had a good feeling this year. Capable people might come today to the Mystery club. And she was going to make sure that each and every one of them had what it takes. If they didn't, then they'd just throw their lives away. A test was necessary. Necessary to see whether or not the new people would be able to survive.

The door made a sound. They were seemingly trying to open it. And with that, it started. A whole new resolution to solve the mysteries had set in in Hiiragi's heart. No matter, who they were, Hiiragi would do her best to keep everyone alive. She owed her senpai at least that much.

The door opened.

"Welcome to the Mystery Club." The girl closed her book, giving the person who had just come through the door her full attention. "I hope I can help you with something. My name is Hiiragi Tsumiki, the president of this club. If you are here to join, then I congratulate you, for both your courage and resolve. It'll be needed in what is to come."

[Assistant]
Shiromi walked through the door at snail's pace, barely taking notice of the president or the book she was reading, nor the oppressive aura that covered the otherwise normal-looking room. Why was she here, anyway? All she wanted when she told Takeshi that yes, she would go check it out, was some calm - the past few weeks he hadn't been able to shut up about it, and though she was an easy-going person, there were only so many times you could poke a sleeping bear before it wanted the poking to stop, no matter the cost. Only she wasn't a bear, and rather than maul him, Shiro made an even bigger mistake and promised him she would go at least once. She got away with being a phantom member of other clubs, 'technically' signed to them but hardly ever showing up, in the past two years... but something told her it was not going to be quite as easy for this one. Just once, just to make him happy, and more importantly to quell his excitement, she told herself... how bad could it really be?

With a blank expression Shiro finally made her way into the room, raising a hand and waving towards the president idly. "Mornin'..." She closed the door behind her and dropped the black bag she had slung over her shoulder to the ground, the suspicious lack of a sound it made as it hit the ground giving away that it was mostly empty. All the chairs had been moved aside, and for a few seconds she looked over to the piles in the back, debating whether it was worth the effort to take one for herself... before she made up her mind and leaned against one of the walls instead, allowing herself to slip down until she was sitting on the ground, looking up at the president when she heard the question, her head braced against the wall behind her and arms loose at her sides. Now that she was sitting, the white-haired girl began to feel the foreboding aura of the place, like an itch on the inside of her head that kept her on edge and that she couldn't quite shake... she shook her head a little as if to clear it from the feeling, but it didn't go away. Shiro let out a little sigh. She was calmer than one might expect given just how prevalent the aura was in the room, but she didn't feel especially happy either, and even she couldn't relax nearly as much as she liked with this... Shiro sighed again, bringing her knees up a little higher and a hand to her chin.
"Nah... I'm just here to check it out 'cos I promised someone... that's all. Sorry."

[User]
Takeshi walked with his schoolbag slung across his shoulders and his hands thrust into his pockets - deep. It wasn't that he was walking slowly because he was dreading something, but the things he had heard from some third years after he'd already dragged Shiro into it made him a little nervous. He brushed it off though, lifting his head and smiling, offering greetings in return to everyone who shot him one. Everyone was rushing to get out of school or to the first meeting of their club for the year. Takeshi grinned at them all, but inside he felt a little less sure of himself as he approached the door and turned the handle.
He'd asked Shiro to be there. He wasn't convinced she'd show up. Damn it.

Turning the handle and pushing the door open, Takeshi first stood in the doorway for a handful of seconds, the chill of the room assaulting his senses immediately and freezing him in his tracks. Perhaps the only thing that egged him on to speak was the girl with the blue eyes in the center of the room, just finished introducing herself as club president.
"Yo." He smirked over at the girl, gritting his teeth to stop their chattering. He shut the door behind him and walked into the afternoon sun, only to notice a flash of white in the corner of his eye. He couldn't mistake that colour anywhere.
"Shiro senpai. You came!"

The boy finally seemed more at ease, returning his gaze to the president. He looked her over. Tall, and quite serious. He wondered why a girl like her hosted a club like this. She didn't seem the type for practical jokes.
"Miyazaki Takeshi, at your service, ma'am." He offered a little bow, dropping his much heavier book bag next to Shiro's. No doubt trying hard to get a head start on subjects he wasn't very good at, like maths.
His amber eyes behind the spectacles glinted in the orange of the room's light. It almost accentuated their natural colour, giving them a catlike mischief about them. He grinned over at the girl now, only just holding his tongue from getting him immediately kicked out.
"Hiiragi-san, I look forward to seeing how this goes. Or shall I call you 'Prez', Prez?"

He looked down at Shiro, sighing awfully exaggeratedly before moving over to the chairs, pulling one of them out and setting it a little in front of the white haired girl, and another one for him, not sitting himself down just yet.

"And pardon me for saying, miss. Err...Prez. You're kinda cute to be running a club like this, heh. Not that that's a bad thing, but I expected someone..." He paused to choose his words carefully, "...more occult."

[Assistant]
Funny story was that Gael had almost forgotten about the Mystery Club by the time his classes ended. Without any particular goal in mind, he headed down the stairs to the school entrance, picked up his shoes from the locker, and was half-way to the fancy-smancy gates of Mayami Academy, when he realized that there were things to do back at school. Now the question was…did Gael really care about showing up in the first meeting?

No, he probably didn't, but it was nice to show his subjects some kindness, right?

Spinning 180 degrees, Gael headed back to school, marched up the stairs, and walked into Classroom A-013. Certainly, it was a fitting room for the Mystery Club, complete with a feeling of dread and disgust and heavily aged, moldy cheese. What a shifty place. Without paying much attention at all to the other plebs in the room, the tall, handsome second year walked to the back of the room and began to systematically open the windows, one by one, until a nice, afternoon breeze wafted through the mostly empty classroom. Not that it helped with the super dramatic edgy fear-feels that he was still getting there, but at least the abhorrent smell was pretty much gone now.

He pulled a desk over next, sliding it casually before him and then sitting on top of the table, finally paying attention to the other three that were present in the room. Two relatively nameless girls and Takeshi, who was making it painfully obvious that he had only came to the Mystery Club to get some of dat ass. Well, being direct was fine as well...

"Sup, Takeshi, White, Hiiragi," Gael said, with a toothy grin, "Name's Gael Ericsson. Or Ericsson Gael. Let's get along, yeah? And some Febreeze would be nice as well. This place still feels like shit. Feel sorry for the kiddos who have to take their classes here."


[System]
Title/Nickname: -
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: He's an Oiosyyiathaom, that is... a demon. The expression is not used for the class of demons in general, but for a very special subset of them. The knowledge about how to summon them is commonly assumed to be lost, though this could very well only be the result of it being a very dangerous and difficult process that very rarely is executed.

The realm they come from is named Qu'Nor. The term is the human transcription of what it is called in their own tongue. Little is known about it because the inverse process of getting a human there and letting him return alive is even more difficult. Those very few who managed to do this weren't very fond of openly sharing the knowledge gained. It can be assumed that the majority of what common mages know about it has its origin in torture chambers that have seen members of Vekyzz' race. It is said that there exist a multitude of creatures, not only demons, but the Oiosyyiathaoms being the dominating race. Not all of them are flat-out hostile to everything and everyone, but most are however. Vekyzz is a tad in the middle: Not willing to kill on sight, but easy to push into a decent rage that can become quite violent.

This raises the question: Why would anyone be interested in summoning such a creature ? The standard answer would be 'because he can', but there are other reasons. One of his kind, once succesfully forced into submission, would be a formidable asset for both personal protection and boosting one's ego: The average individual stands well above a large human male and usually weighs at least twice as much. They feature a very dense skeletal frame and pick up large amounts of similar muscle even with hardly any training at all. There is some inherent magic in them, but they can't purposefully control it. It virtually 'leaks' out of them as raw energy. It is assumed that this phenomenon is not natural and only appears in the foreign environment they are torn into when summoned. In fact, some of his kind have been subjected to experiments trying to artificially trigger and harvest it. The outcomes were rather mixed: While it turned out to be possible to release large amounts of magical power, the price in terms of killed test subjects that needed to be replaced by performing new summonings outweighed this benefit.

It is not known how many individuals are currently present in the world, but it is fair to assume that their number is very, very small. Their lifespan is dramatically reduced by the leakage effect and is estimated at no more than 50 years if not sent back in time. However, as long as their inner pool doesn't run out and they are sufficiently supplied, bodily degradation is virtually unknown to them.Appearance: As an individual he is an imposing figure: The man stands about 7 feet 2 inches tall (excluding the horns) and is packed with dense, voluminous muscles.Trope/Archetype: The Big Guy

Profession: He doesn't really have one. He's basically become a survivalist capable of living off the wild land. He still seldomly accepts more or less shady jobs, but more for fun than out of necessity.

Background: Vekyzz has never experienced the freedom of having parents that keep you nourished and well-kept during your childhood. He hasn't even experienced the luxury of never having to switch the world one's living in, allowing as much time as possible to adapt. He was thrown into this realm by a mage craving for power, but the first thing that happened is another case of the scientist-runs-an-experiment-without-preparation-for-the-case-it-yields-exactly-the-outcome-he's-hoping-for trope. The summoner doesn't live anymore, killed in an instantaneous act of outrage. Unfortunately, Vekyzz thereby has also slain his only hope of returning - or at least the only one he knows about. Being doomed to continue living the life that had just started to exist, the demon started roaming the land.

Equipment:* What would he be without his trusty, colossal, vintage looking sword ? Technically it isn't even really a sword, but merely an outstanding piece of mechanical butchery consisting of a thick piece of sheet metal that was ground to have a sharp edge on one side while the other was bolted to a large handle. It's purely makeshift.
* An equally impressive collection of... one might be tempted to say 'garbage', but let's just call it an armor consisting of pieces of leather, fur and cloth stacked upon another and combined and held together with chains. It covers most of his body.
* A cheap, but complete set of 'civil' clothing.

Pros:
* + Very strong and tough. He's capable of moving and lifting things an ordinary human couldn't dream of.
* + Rather intelligent, though not outstandingly.

Cons:
* - His appearance. When people see him, prices go up, and when he leaves, they go down again as if by magic. He's really not far from being an outcast and scorn can be achieved by a wide variety of methods.
* - He's lean and wouldn't consider himself particularly tall or heavy. By human standards however he is a crushing, walking tower and thereby prone to more or less embarrassing accidents. Furniture, badly maintained buildings and the like aren't exactly designed for him.
* - He's inexperienced with this world and the habits, traditions and reasoning of its inhabitants. The negative impact of this has considerable lessened since his 'arrival', but is still noticeable.

Other: -

[User]
Taking a primitive mathematical-theoretical approach, one could state that the probability density of encountering the correct lock was a flat line across the number of coaches already tried. The chance of the last coach to be the right one was equal to the chance of the first or the middle one to be it. However, this statistic did not consider some more subtle factors, one of them being the wannabe-thief being a tad nervous, hasty and thereby not very gentle or even precise with the key-lock-pairing. There were hardly any coachmen (who wanted to wait outside when there was a tavern ?), but after almost a dozen of hard bounces, jams and rubbing against more or less badly lubricated cylinders, the damn key just broke. It did not necessarily mean that the plan had to be abandoned. There were other ways to get in: Break the thin glass, for example. Or take that large iron rod that was leaning against the back outer wall of the tavern and use it as a makeshift crowbar. Or take that other coach that still had two horses hitched up to it and just drive it away. It would be the goblin's own decision if he wanted to leave for greed without his friends or not.

Vekyzz sticked to his slow approach. His shadow more and more started to encompass the harp player, and since he was so tall, he knew that he very soon was in reach of him. The demon didn't care much about the other persons currently present. There was something going on on the upper level, but the first to deal with still was Mr. 'Lard Arse'. He'd soon see why Vekyzz was so freaking large and heavy!

As if he weighed almost nothing, the musician was grabbed at the collar of his shirt and lifted off the ground at the very end of Vekyzz' outstretched left arm. With his biceps bulging beneath his dark skin, the demon pulled the man towards him, holding him high enough so they could stare into each other's eyes. "Now... what do you say ? Shall me make a few tests of strength to see who of us is more worth his weight ?" Speaking this, Vekyzz allowed for his large teeth to be clearly seen.

[Assistant]
The musician, eyes bulging, breathing heavy, sweat literally dripping, said nothing at all. The terror of what stood before him had overloaded his brain, he hadn't counted on anything like this to happen and he genuinely feared for his life.
Suddenly something hit Vekyzz in the back. the sudden spray of wood of varying sizes and shapes, as well as the painful imprint the object had made told the demon that it was one of the tavern's many chairs of dubious standard, this one had obviously seen better days. As Vekyzz turned his eyes on the room in order to figure out who needed a swift punch to the groin the most he caught the end of something bright blue as if wafted through the rapidly closing door. The rest of the room was filled with people too stunned to move, some perhaps thinking that they'd be safe if they just stayed perfectly still.

Outside, the goblin known as Baxxink did his best to look inside all the coaches. He was too short for some, and had to stand on his toes or jump to get even the faintest of looks. Sure, he could climb them like nothing, but his clawed hands and feet tended to leave some scuff marks and that was not the mark of a good thief. The key had broke, and some unlucky bugger would have to get a locksmith before he could get in his coach again, Baxxink only hoped that the guy was very comfortable inside the tavern still.

The coachmen had been careful to remove any baggage from the roof and back of the coaches, the only place he'd find anything of value would be inside the locked compartments. He got up on the back end of one and looked inside. While there was no visible luggage, the seats in the coaches often opened up to allow people to stash stuff down there. The coach he'd chosen looked like it belonged to someone rich enough to stash some money in there, but still not rich enough to set a trap. That is a very specific kind of rich.
Baxxink drew his right arm back, curled his hand into a fist, aimed for the centre of the glass sheet and thought about it.
Glass is hard, brittle, but harder that the average fist. Breaking the glass like that, if even possible by a weak goblin, would hurt like hell and probably scar him for life and drain his blood. He jumped down and looked around, all he needed was something harder than glass, a stone, a good branch, a turtle... Something he could use and then throw away...

[User]
Stones were the most obvious option. In fact, right from where Baxxink was standing up to several miles away, the object was nothing but ubiquitous. The road leading to the tavern was reinforced with gravel pressed into the softer ground by years of people stepping and vehicles driving on it. The problem was that these were small stones. Very comfortable to grab for a small goblin's hand, but also not very powerful and even less protective. Turtles ? Well... the comedy option was nowhere to be seen. A branch however was available - broken off from the piss tree which could be seen from where Baxxink was. The plant was dying slowly, its life being pissed off by so much piss. But maybe the goblin would remember about a more clever option ? Glass could be selectively weakened by deeply scratching it. This was a job even a bit of the small road pebble would be sufficient for. Maybe a part of the glass could be removed with less brutality (and thereby noise) required than with the brute force method.

Speaking of brute force - Vekyzz was busy remembering what he was damn good at. The musician was slammed back onto the ground harder than gravity alone would have done it. The demon's eyes seemed to burn - and so did the wound the impact had left on his back in the metaphorical sense. It was littered with splinters and would require a bit of attention if one didn't want to risk it becoming even uglier. Right now this wasn't the time for such things however. The demon turned around completely infuriated, the door he had seen the bright blue thing going through fixed in the middle of his view.

With great anger, Vekyzz slammed a table which happened to block his straightforward way out of the same. He kicked the door open and once again, fast progress was hindered by him not fitting through it. Once he was outside, he yelled: "Which bastard did this ? Come here at once!" Yet apparently he wasn't expecting the coward to show up. Vekyzz stepped further away from the door towards the area where the coaches and horses were waiting. It was there that he expected the person in question to seek refuge because of the many obstacles and possibilities to make a quick escape. Unintentionally his path lead him almost directly towards Baxxink, but the rageful creature didn't have the goblin on its list of suspects. Vekyzz had already decided to leave and therefore he was heading for a saddled horse near the coach. The demon didn't care about its owner - he just wanted to get away from here.

[Assistant]
The horseman, somehow oblivious to the adventures of Baxxink, was frozen in place, much like the musician inside the tavern. He only went limp when Vekyzz tugged him out of the saddle, and folded himself into a neat pile of human on the ground.
The horse on the other hand would have none of that. As soon as it felt its rider leave the saddle it started to whine and tried to get away. As the demon grabbed the reins to hold the beast still the damn thing panicked and shot of like a lightning bolt down the road, leaving a puzzled vekyzz with a slight burning sensation in his hand. As the horse ran for its life past the far wall of the tavern something bright blue shot out of the shadows, got on top of the horse and rode away at break-neck speed.

Baxxink on the other hand, had grown tired of looking for proper glass-smashing tools and had settled on the urine-coated branch from the infamous tree behind the tavern. He swung the yellowish-brown thing high above his head and smashed the window into a million pieces just as a horse went into full gallop just a few coaches over. While the beast did not cover the sound of the glass, it was likely to draw the attention of anyone nearby, lucky.

The goblin crawled through the hole without too much hassle and started to rummage around in there as soon as he could. As the passenger compartment was fairly small it didn't take him long. While he looked over his findings something moved outside the window and the demon Vekyzz became clearly visible, he obviously had no intention of staying at the tavern any more. Getting out of the coach as quickly as he could, he immediately jumped into the coachman's seat of the next one over and started to shout and wave his arms to get the attention of his companion.


[System]
Element: Titanium

Age: 41

Gender: Female

Appearance: Hannelore is a tall Caucasian woman, tall and perhaps a little thicker in the middle than might be fashionable. She wears the latest business fashions. Her blonde hair is beginning to fade, but her blue eyes maintain their sparkle.

Powers: Hannelore Buchholz can, at will, turn her body into pure titanium. In this form, she has massive immunity from harm and possesses immense phyiscal strength, able to press up to 25 metric tonnes. However, she also had no feeling in this form, nor is she able to speak.

Weapons: Improvised from the environment.

Backstory: Hannelore Buchholz. College graduate, single, no children. Career woman. Broker at the Frankfurt Stock Exchange. Her ten-year plan has never included superpowers, though. That's a recent development, and as yet Hannelore is unsure what to make of it. Her life has been largely unremarkable up until now, it's time to decide whether or not it stays that way.

[User]
Mahmoud Nobakht

Mahmoud reclined in his chair, a puff of smoke from his cigar wafted in to the air as he awaited the reports from his informants. Mahmoud was a busy man, it took much time to maintain the secrecy and the fluidity of his organizations work. But these were not the reasons for his meeting today. There were other matter that Mahmoud had interest in. This informant was one of many who worked between the nations of the EU for Mamhoud, seeking out others that, like Mamoud himself, had certain powers. Powers that were of great interest to the crime lord.

"Mr. Nobakht, I belive I have some information that is of interest for you." said the informant, triumphantly reporting on his catch. "We have heard reports of a guy who hits up places in the EU, he robs places and when the cops come, place is frozen up. No one has been able to catch him, but I got someone tracking him and reporting back to me. If we're lucky we'll find him, but it might take a while; he never stays in one place understandably."

Mahmoud smiled and tossed some rubles at the Informant. "Do you have any idea where he might be at the moment?"

"Nowhere specific, but we suspect somewhere in Central Europe"

Mahmoud nodded his head, "You have done well"

Alessandra Guillory

Alessa's body shot up as she awoke, looking down to see she had fallen asleep studying again. She groaned before looking over to the clock and gasping. "Shit!" she screamed, grabbing for her backpack, only for her bags and homework to spill out all over the floor. Alessa groaned loudly before shambling to the floor to straighten out her papers. Once in order, Alessa bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her as she sprinted out of the apartment complex and towards the campus halls. "Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck not again. He's going to kill me if I'm late again." she muttered to herself as she made her way thought the living wall of students and into the hall.

Archaeology class had already began, the professor in the middle of a lecture on the alchemical artifacts of Islamic Egypt. As the pointer made its way to a primitive distiller, Alessa tried to sneak in unnoticed in the back row. It didn't work.

"Ah, late again Miss Guillory?"

Alessa groaned as she hid her face behind her purple backpack in shame. Not again, not again. Maybe buying an alarm would be a good idea, assuming she didn't accidentally kill anyone when she tried to plug it in. Alessa tuned into the dissertation on the Muslim Chemists. Chemistry, ugh, how she hated chemistry. Too much math, too much dangerous chemicals. Archaeology was safe, and just her kind of thing.

[Assistant]
Ra lifted up her eyepatch, looking at the mass amounts of scarring around where here should be. It was an ugly area of her face. And her eye had been damaged without any hope of repair. Stabbed and mutilated beyond belief. But, this wouldn't stop Ra from living life as best as she could. And with that she walked out of her dorm room, heading to the first class of the day she had.

---

Fa sat on his bed. His first class wouldn't start for another twenty minuets. So Fa had a hood five minuets before he would have to leave for it. He thought about his sister. Her sweet blue eyes and lilac hair. How they had played as children. But that had been years ago. And Fa doubted that Ra looked the same as she had the last time he had seen her. But for now Fa had to prepare for chemistry class. An ironic class for someone like Fa. Francium.

[User]
The smell of chlorine wafted into Chloe's nostrils as she sat at the edge of the large, rec-center pool that she'd just spent the last two hours swimming in. She used to love the smell, but now she wasn't so sure. Chlorine had been the smell that hung in the air after she killed that poor guy, who had stalked her through the darkness after the party. Half of her wanted to run straight to the police station and turn herself in, but the other half doubted the police would quite believe that she had killed a man with her breath.
She took her feet out of the pool and halfheartedly dried herself. Sitting at the pool and thinking about that night wouldn't help her get over anything. It was an accident. Just an accident, she repeated to herself mentally, but she couldn't help the relief that washed over her when the smell of the swimming pool finally faded to nothing.

[Assistant]
Jan looked out at the New York sky line from his penthouse apartment enjoying his view as the sun reflected off the skyscrapers. He had enjoyed his time in Europe, but the banks were getting annoying with all the security measures that he had forced them to institute. Hopefully the American banks had not caught on yet to what had happened and were still easy enough to break into that he wouldn't need to reveal to much about himself to become rich.

He had been enjoying the currency exchange rate from Euros to the U.S. dollar which made him feel richer than he actually was, which meant that he had been blowing through his money faster then he probably should have. It was time for him to plan another heist which meant he needed a new crew as he had left his old one back in Germany. As he made his way from the living room back into his bedroom, he picked up his cell and shifted through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for.

"Yuri, listen I need you to put together a team for me in New York. I heard about someone that might be very interesting, I hear she is very flexible and can melt stuff. Track her down and recruit her along with maybe two more and of course don't forget to buy them all gas masks."

[User]
Tecumseh walked into his office and smiled as he saw that his intern had already made him a cup of coffee. It was black as pitch, and probably just as bitter though much less viscous, exactly the way he liked it. He sat down and started reading through his e-mails. He noticed one with the subject "Sweetest Teas" and glanced up to be sure his intern wasn't back yet from delivering the in-office mail for the day. He opened it and read it carefully, it was apparently a exactly what it was supposed to be, an advertisement for sweet tea, of various flavors, made by a popular tea brand. Few understood the cipher used due to it's reliance on highly personal events and experiences shared by exactly thirteen men, of which only eight were still alive. Even with the cipher, the information was vague at best, reports of a man in the EU that left his crime scenes frozen in place, hints of new leader in the middle east with a "fiery" disposition, a man found on the side of the street diagnosed with chlorine poisoning. He glanced up as he heard his intern coming back up the hall and erased the email. It confirmed his suspicions, he wasn't the only one with ... "elemental" qualities.
 Tecumseh filed the information away for later and dived into the day's work with his usual vigor. The day looked to be another busy one judging by the width of Sarah's smile. She was an undergrad student working on a history degree, so she could get a masters in Forestry and Resource Management. She was a bit of an idealist, and a naive one at that, but she worked hard and was very good at keeping things organized, something Tecumseh needed. She laid out his schedule for the day as if he were some big shot CEO, and he laughed at her performance. Sarah ignored him and continued with the day's events and then the major to do list for the week. Tecumseh sipped his coffee as he listened and then officially started his day, with a call to his senator about a bill going through the state legislature that could make his life as a resort owner and vacation planner much more difficult, just so a few rich men could widen their proverbial girths. Thankfully his senator had a personal stake in the matter, since the senator's current free family pass to the resort would become worthless if the resort was closed. As the Senator's secretary picked up, Tecumseh put the call on speaker while Sarah pulled an iPad and stylus out of her carryall and got ready to take notes.

[Assistant]
It was yet another day at the Stock Exchange, really. With a heritage dating back as early as 1585, the Frankfurt Stock Exchange was unquestionably one of the world's foremost financial institutions. Though the methods had changed over the centuries, the simple facts were the same- fortunes made and lost within moments, the financial word divided between the quick and the dead.

Outwardly it was the same for Hannelore Buchholz, a middle-aged woman married to her career. She was, as always, seated between Schumann and Nguyen, having orders barked to her by her boss Weisser. Billions of Euros she would never see or touch passed tantalizingly close before her, untouchable despite being only inches away on her computer screen. Pantsuit, earpiece, screen, it was all there, all comfortingly familiar.

But today things were a bit different.

Unnoticed beneath her desk, Hannelore was practicing with her free hand. It had been two months since she had figured out what she could do with her entire body, and she had spent a couple nights afterwards at the old railyard, cautiously lifting coaches when she was sure no one was around. But she was unsure of the extent to which she could control her transformation, and so here she was today. Her left hand out of sight under her desk, she tried to will it to turn into titanium- her left hand and nothing else. Her educated, orderly mind insisted on these tests, it was good to know her limits and capabilities as she searched for an actual use for this strange ability.

She concentrated, eyes squinting, brow sweating. Perhaps too much.

"Buchholz!" Weisser, her supervisor, snapped. Despite his dreamy expression and wooly cardigan, the old man always knew when someone's attention lapsed, even momentarily.

She automatically spun around, looking guilty and apologetic, as she had done a hundred times before. But this time was different, of course. She miscalculated her turn.

And her hand tore through the wooden desk without difficulty, simply the horrendous sound of wood splintering and tearing. Guiltily, she looked down to her left hand, only briefly taking in Schumann's open mouth or Nguyen's subtler arched eyebrow. She expected to see metal.

But instead, her hand was only flesh and blood.

"Frau Buchholz," Weisser said after a long moment, staring at the massive hole in the wooden desk. "Perhaps you might like to return home for the remainder of the day?" It was a rare display of charity from the unforgiving old man, doubtlessly brought on simply by confusion.

Nevertheless, Hannelore took it. It would be smarter for her to practice at home, anyways. "Yes, Herr Weisser, perhaps I should," she said humbly, gathering up her few items as Nguyen and Schumann stared at the torn desk in confusion. She left quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The confused silence was soon overtaken by the sound of typing once more, though. The quick and the dead.