[System]
Age: 22 years old

Appearance: Isaac is 6' tall and a wiry but muscular-tone 155lbs. He has bright blue eyes, messy blonde hair, a boyish face and a bright smile. Out on the road, you will usually find him wearing a plain tee shirt, maybe some combat armour strapped over, combat pants and hardy military grade boots. Often carries a backpack too.

Above: Isaac aged 15 years old - Stood outside New Brooklyn settlement, posing for the camera

Background: Isaac Storm was born Isaac Carson, in Vault 118. He'd always had a knack for getting into trouble, but one particular escapade had gotten him into so much trouble, it changed his life forever. You see, Vault 118 was deathly scared of the outside world, and believed New York to be completely poisoned by nuclear fallout. They had a strict rule that the vault door was never to be opened, and anyone who tried to do so would be sentenced to death by the overseer. When 11 year old Isaac snuck up to the main entrance of the vault and released the seal that'd been shut since the very bombs dropped, the Overseer commanded that Isaac pay with his life. His mother begged for her son's life, and she managed to negotiate one final option. Her and her son had to leave vault 118 for good.

It was an option she did not relish, but with her son's life on the line, she took it.

Luck was not on their side. Mother and son were not long out of the vault when they were hunted and set upon by a pack of wolves. Isaac's mother sacrificed herself to give her son a chance, screaming for him to run. And run he did. With tears in his eyes, and a nasty bite wound bloodying up his arm, he fled the scene. Moments later he ran into help in the form of a trade caravan, whose bodyguards were led by the boy back to his mother. But they moments too late.

The wolves were slain and a hysterical young Isaac was taken to the nearest settlement, New Brooklyn, where the first words of Sheriff Luca burned themselves into the memory of Isaac and marked the man he was to become...

"You're mother died so you could live, son. Make sure you live a good life, to pay her back."

He would live a good life. He would save lives. He would become a wasteland hero. He would pay his mother back.

[User]
Isaac awoke to the sound of chatter on the streets. He opened his eyes slightly to see the sun beaming in through the window, stirred in the chair, stretching an arm up in the air as he yawned. Sitting up, he looked to his right and saw Zara sprawled out in the bed, then his eyes widened as he realised that her flimsy tank top had moved and twisted in the night, revealing far more than it ever should about Zara's body. He turned his sight away and shook his head with a smile.

"Jeez," he muttered as he walked around the bed, grabbed the quilt that was supposed to be covering her, and gently threw it over his companion. He left the room quickly after that, not before grabbing his toothbrush and going to the bathroom to wash up.

When he went downstairs and straight outside, looking both ways before heading over the town square to grab some breakfast from the outdoor diner. Exchanging some smalltalk as he ate his squirrel-on-stick, he paid up.

"Damn," he said to himself after the store owner took the bill to and turned around to get change. "I've burned through this cash faster than I thought."

He had. Payment for the convoy to Boston was perhaps his biggest score to date, but he'd spent more than half of it while relaxing in Diamond City, not to mention the travel back to New York.

"Yup," the store owner agreed as he gave Isaac his change in the form of caps. "That's what cash does... burns faster than we thought."

Isaac shot the man a wry grin and finished his breakfast. He and Zara would need to start taking some jobs on the way to Liberty Point. Best to start now before all his funds were gone entirely.

He went to the the notice board in the town square to if there was something he could do this morning, maybe a quick job he could wrap up before lunchtime. His eyes darted around at the various messages. One of the notes was the warning of an angry man who was threatening to find and kill the man who'd slept with his wife. That got a laugh. Most all of the jobs would take days and some would take he and Zara in the opposite direction to the way they were going. But there was one. Isaac snatched the note off the board and read it more closely.

"The town of Brixton is in need of a gunman for pest control," he read aloud. "Bingo."

With that, he headed back to the tavern to see Zara.

[Assistant]
By the time he arrived back at the room, Zara had aroused and washed up. She was currently brushing her hair out with her fingers as she stared out the window. She had been lost in thought, her eyes blurred and not actually taking in what she was seeing. She was thinking about her life and what had become of it now. She was a free woman, able to wake up when she chose, sleep when she needed or wanted to. She only needed to care for herself. Yet she felt oddly driven to care for Isaac as well. She cared to ensure he ate, washed and was looked after.

Giving a startled slight jump when he entered the room, she looked over to him as her eyes refocused. "Good morning. I figured you had wandered off early. Got yourself something to eat? Slept well I hope." She asked him curiously as she attempted to style her hair. She contemplated growing it out so she could put it in a bun or style it. She did notice the paper in his hand, wondering what it was for.

[User]
It seemed he'd caught her lost in thought. Or maybe she was just a little jumpy. As she turned about and washed that green gaze over him, he gave her a nod. "Mornin."

"Good morning. I figured you had wandered off early."

"Yup. Couldn't help myself," he bounced back, walking over to her as she styled her hair. He passed her and looked out the window, habitually checking the surround. Wasteland philosophy. Next to him, it was easy to see that the fire-cracker of a girl was only little. Couldn't have been more than 5' 4". Skinny too.

"Got yourself something to eat? Slept well I hope."

"Yeah not bad. A cushioned chair isn't bad when you've spent the last few nights on the floor with nothing but a bedroll for a mattress," he said. "I had breakfast down at the square. You should get something in you too. We've a long morning's travel ahead of ourselves, and err... you could use a decent meal or two..." he grinned mischieviously. "...or five."

He hoped she didn't take offense. He just couldn't help himself.

Raising his hand with the paper in it. "Got a job for us," he told her. "Pest control. Probably just some mole rat infestation. Good caps. We could use em. And it's on the way, so happy days."

[Assistant]
"Hey now, the slender body allows me to be stealthy." She giggled a bit, running her hand over her stomach and hip. Of course she was too slender, but she'd work on that. Food did sound good, though she wasn't sure what she would want. Maybe she'd let the chef decide something good for her. The freedom to be able to decide what to eat was a little overwhelming.

She glanced over to him when he mentioned the job. "Seems decent enough work and easy to do. Wanna head out there once I've eaten and gotten some rations for the road? Or are we staying here another night?" She asked him curiously, picking up the gun holster he had given her and strapped it to herself. It still felt weird to be carrying it, but she'd get use to it soon enough.

One last look in the mirror, she seemed to be pleased with her appearance and headed for the door. She was eager for their day to begin. She could work on her target practice dealing with these pests. She wondered if she should get a bladed weapon too, for the melee battles she was sure to get into.

[User]
"We're getting on the road just as soon as you're ready," he replied. When she was done in the mirror, he smiled at her, then made for the door.

They went around Grasscroft, Zara got some breakfast and a few extra rations. When Isaac found out that Zara had left his knife back in the apartment block they'd stayed in the night before, he shrugged it off and they went to the weapons shop to get a replacement for him and one for her. Isaac secured his new knife onto his belt. It wasn't nearly as quality as his last one, but it would do for the time being. He'd wait to get a really good one from Katie Wensdale at Liberty Point. No doubt she'd have a few lying around at the General Store.

After that, they hit the road.

The sun beamed down on the dusty road, the wasteland vista of wreckage and dirt going on for miles. Isaac remained vigilant on the surround, his eyes constantly scanning left and right as he walked.

"Brixton's a quaint little town, if I remember right," he told Zara. "Not so far off the main trade route that they're unwelcoming of visitors. But it's not a big place, and it'll likely go by the Sheriff's law and wasteland justice, so we should be careful - stay out of trouble, ye know." He gave her a glance, then looked back on the road. "We go in, get some details on the job, get it done, get paid. Light work and we're out before sundown."

Wasteland justice meant no jails for criminals, just exile or death... usually death. People didn't usually waste time with arguments and fist fights. And town folk didn't often side with visitors or their own. It was worth explaining in advance.

They walked for an hour on the big roads before turning off the main trade routes and heading toward Brixton. They arrived in good time and went to the Sheriff's office.

"Hey," Isaac greeted as he walked in. There was an old man who was sat with his feet up on the desk. Two more younger men lounged about on chairs in the room. It was obvious which was the sheriff and which two were deputies. "We're here about the pest problem."

"Uh, good. Had my deputy post that job just yesterday. Grasscroft always sends them in good time." The Sheriff took his feet off the desk and explained the siutation. "Mole rats breeding like mutants down in god knows which sewer. Rodents keep coming up and chewing up the wires at the town generator. We ain't got the resources to keep fixing the damn thing and none of our guys can pin down the exact location of the nest to nip the problem in the bud."

"Uh huh," Isaac nodded. Seemed simple enough. He negotiated the pay without any hassle too. "Alright gentlemen, we'll get to it. Should be done by evening."

"Oh yeah," one of the deputies said, looking Isaac and Zara up and down. "You that good huh?"

Isaac smiled at the deputy, let the question hang in the air for a few moments, then looked back to the Sheriff. "By evening, Sheriff."

And with that, they left and headed for the town entrance. This would be a good lesson in tracking and shooting for Zara. "That went smoothly enough," he said to her. "How are you holding up? Y'okay?"

[Assistant]
Zara walked with him to the town, enjoying the sights that were around them. The world was coming back, slowly recovering from the atomic bomb issues. It wasn't as beautiful and luscious as it was once told, but she was enjoying the views anyway. They just needed to find a way to eradicate all the ruins and broken buildings. She hummed to herself softly until they entered office. Opting to stay back and listen rather than intervene, she checked out the two deputies. Neither seemed relatively capable of doing their jobs either so why was one sneering at them?

His question irritated her. She wouldn't be that good but she had seen Isaac in action. That was a man of talent and of skill. She was sure he'd get it done before supper if he wasn't training her how to actually fight and defend herself. Keeping her opinion to herself, and her gaze hard on him, she balled her hands into fists. She flashed him the middle finger before turning to leave the office with Isaac. Maybe being around a bunch of men who always underestimated her and other women had an effect on her and now she was free to express her disdain. Or maybe she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but she wanted to fight him.

Her eyes went to Isaac as he spoke to her. "I'm fine. I'm doing okay. Wanted to make that man taste his own balls but that's pretty average for me. Mole rats seem to be my target practice today? Good, a moving object would be a great place to start. How are you holding up? Having to cart around a novice such as myself."


[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]
When the humans boiled, out, Tony decided that the situation was screwed and they better hit while the chaos was happening. But he told Autumn first, "Shieldmaiden and I are hitting the front door. Tell the others that the plan is hosed, do whatever they can."

He added, even as he pulled off the jump suit, going down to shirts and a wifebeater, "Incidentally, you might want to tell your hunter to go easy on the silver. I'm the only lycan in this bitch and if he shoots me, he might not be able to escape, because the vampires are going to get him after he gets me. There's an AK in the van, lever down all the way for rock n' roll because the thralls are packing. Short, controlled bursts, you got it?"

He didn't like leaving his back to a hunter. Not at all. And he didn't like it. Not one little bit.

It was funny that Rivike managed to create a stir all of her own as she got to Parael first, but while they focused in on her, Tony made his way into the club, stiff-arming and pushing his way past panicking mortals while yelling, "Terrorist attack! Chechens are on a rampage!" in a spin that the Court would have appreciated back in the day -- with all the fucking Russian types running around, that made total sense, especially after the Boston Marathon bombings.

But once it was down to vampires and thralls, the latter of who couldn't smell a lycan, he changed is tactics; the thing was, the thralls weren't sure what the hell was going on, so they were confused and it was easy to slip past them. But as soon as he pushed into the vampire club behind the restaurant.

When he finally did encounter a vamp, snarling obscenely and not even realizing that he wasn't some vamper out for the happy juice out of a Celestial, he yelled, "GET PARAEL OUT NOW!" and he shifted rapidly and brutally, prying two sets of fingers into the vamp's head, and tearing off the jaw in one brutal motion.

It got pretty chaotic from there on out. Once in man-beast, he ran on a great deal more instinct than intellect in this form, and it was hard to necessarily distinguish friend from foe when the hormones were flowing the way he did, as the thrill of killing and struggle overtook him. A vampire could certainly relate, but that was perhaps why Lycans and vampires detested each other so. Most of them had, perhaps, dealt with the wolves before, but never quite so close quarter -- when the celestial blood entered the place, the vampires got sloppy in the throes of their great thirst and desire, and the thralls were, quite frankly, not the first line of defense in these situations anyway.

Still, it wasn't quite so easy as just ripping a couple thralls. The next vampire fought fast too, striking, using a table leg as an improvised weapon, bringing its muscle and speed into play. It was true that a lycanthrope was a nasty customer for a vampire, and probably the match for a couple in a toe to toe fight, and it was also true that Tony, possibly the only big cat running around town, was actually a good bit scarier than even some of the wolves, probably was good for a couple more.

But there must have been fifty or so vampires in the room. Even more thralls. That was just too much, especially if they did recover their wits and start organizing.

[Assistant]
"I'll take your word for it" Flint said, as he noticed the Cinema explode into a frenzy of mortals ."Well the shit has hit the fan" Flint was soon outside the vehicle and to the boot of the car, inside he grabbed his beloved Thompson and racked the slide. "Ok stay beside me, I've got the range covered, but if they get close enough to caress my hair I'll need you on point" The orders where directed towards Karrem, and before he gave him chance to respond Flint was on the move towards the club.

When he got to the entrance he saw the chaos unfold, vampires and thralls in troves as Parry lay bloody. Rikive thought with her sword and yelled something Flint could not hear. Tony was slashing and ripping people a part. Flint took a swig from his bottle and smashed it onto the floor by his feet. He was back in the 20's, the enemy gang drinking and brawling in front of him. He was the leader of the Booze Hounds, and he began to clean up. Flint fired from the hip, the gun in one hand as he began to light up fireballs in his left. The recoil was controlled, and the gun hit its mark as vampires and thralls where spattered by .45 calibre fire. In ten seconds the entire 100 round magazine was empty, the bodies of the men he had shot barely had hit the ground before the Thompson was dropped and his right hand erupted in flame.

Flint aimed his two hands at the crowd and a wave of orange flame erupted over the masses, he hoped his comrades would be safe from the blast but his main concern was causing as much damage and as much panic that the Vampires would think they were up against an army of flame thrower wielding, machine gun toting bad asses. Instead of the ragtag group of sword wielders, drunks, monsters and the rest of the motley crew.


[System]
Sex and preferred gender: ♀
Species: human
Factional Alignment: explorerBeck is technically a slayer, but her goal isn't killing; she likes to record supernatural history & culture and deliver justice. She's basically a nerd that might shoot you.Proficiencies:
Age: 22
Physical Description: Beck is an African-American woman with a neutral mocha complexion. Her shoulder length hair is styled in Senegalese twists. She wears simple rimless glasses. Beck has a small but somewhat short nose, full shapely lips, and heavy-lidded dark brown eyes. She has a slender, muscular figure; arms noticeably toned, bust slim, posterior taught, shoulders a bit on the broad side. She dresses a touch masculine out of her sheer utilitarianism, opting for baseball tees and mom jeans for everyday wear, but in more contentious situations may wear plain combat clothes and tactical rigs. She's just about 5'7"
Alignment: chaotic good
Personality in a nutshell: To the average individual, Beck likely comes across as a militant conspiracy theorist with a lot of weaponry. However, for a homeless vigilante, it must be said that Beck acts remarkably sane. She's very calm and kind, perhaps a bit bold. She's very open about her interest in the supernatural, despite the consequence of being outcast in human society and a very visible target to violent vampires. She's very independent, nearly isolationist, not fond of being helped by others. Beck is exceptionally focused and studious, unshakably committed to her self-appointed role as a vigilante and historian among the shadowy creatures of the world.
Any Important Backstory: Beck was raised by her parents and grandparents in a neighborhood of Boston. As a teenager she grew fascinated with all things supernatural, stalking the urban neighborhoods with friends at night in search of trouble; when she got older she found it, happening upon a small coven of new vampires feasting on the local homeless. As a young woman she joined the army, but received a medical discharge just after her second deployment for reasons she's not been open about. Since then she's been gallivanting around New England in a converted hybrid VW bus, breaking up covens and keeping extensive notes on lycanthropic and vampiric culture.
Her parents still live in the family home in Boston, somewhat worried about her nomadic lifestyle. They call her "Loree."

Name or Nickname: Evren
Sex and preferred gender: ♂
Species: vampire
Factional Alignment: Old Owl
Abilities: daylight walking
Strengths: Evren is a shapeshifter, and while he can transform into nearly anything, there aren't many forms he can hold for long. He can remain shifted as a humanoid indefinitely as long as he's unhurt, while taking less human forms is much less sustainable; generally, the further from human a form is the harder it is to stay shifted, though he's strong enough to hold most shapes for at least a few minutes.
Weaknesses: Evren is vulnerable to traditional herbs and silver, and has a fear and weakness to religious symbols, to such an extreme that any symbolic manifestation of love or belief could burn a hole through his body. If hurt, Evren must take his vulnerable true form until he can heal.
Age: He's not totally sure, but he's at least 900 years old.
Physical Description: Evren's true form hasn't aged well, though few have seen it. His skin is tawny brown but uneven and spotted with age, but seems pallid as if lifeless despite it's tone; it's papery and wrinkled, clinging to his bony form. The sclera of his eyes are jet black while his irises and pupils are shocking crimson. His teeth are uneven and fanged, frighteningly large and often stained from when he last fed. His nails are long and yellowed, curled in towards his palm and sharp like an animals talons.
He doesn't have a "usual" form, shifting his appearance frequently without sticking to any shape for very long.
Alignment: true Neutral
Personality in a nutshell: Melancholy hangs heavy on Evren's shoulders. He's very somber and can come across a bit cold at times, but he loves conversation and is quite protective of young people. His favorite thing in the world is ginger wine.
Any Important Backstory: Evren was born to a Romani family what is now Turkey nearly a thousand years ago. He spent most of his life living nomadically across Europe, and travelled to America with English Puritans to find some solitude in the wilderness. These days he mostly keeps to himself, feeding rarely and reading voraciously.

Name or Nickname: Hadrien "Haddie" Abner
Sex and preferred gender: ♂
Species: human
Factional Alignment: none
Abilities: necromancy
Age: 19
Physical Description: Haddie is a short young man at barely 5'3", with conspicuously Satanic tattoos on his hands. There are bracelet-like strips of Hebrew words around each wrist, a Seal of Solomon on the top of his right hand, and a thelema on top of his left hand. He has slim shoulders and wears second-hand clothes that never fit quite right. Haddie has a birdlike nose, bushy eyebrows, and dark purplish bruising under each dark hazel eye. He has several piercings; right eyebrow stud, septum ring, lower lip stud on the left side of his mouth, and a barbell stud in his tounge made to look like a bloodshot eye. Both of his ears are pierced in several places but he doesn't always wear ear jewelry. He has ratty black hair and a distinctive white mallen streak that frames the right side of his face.
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Personality in a nutshell: Haddie is an ambitious but cruel young man. He has an incredible ability to focus and achieve nearly anything he sets his mind to. He's known to hold grudges and seek revenge for even minor offenses against him. Despite his stern nature and self-discipline when it comes to working and learning, in the moment he often makes very rash decisions, say things he doesn't mean, and pick fights he can't win.
Any Important Backstory: Haddie was born on a commune near Fairfield, a picturesque town in northern Vermont. When he was just seven, he and several other children on the commune were infected with meningitis. The infection ravaged the commune and some even died; Haddie became permanently deaf in his right ear and hard of hearing in his left. He now relies heavily on reading lips to understand others.
After the epidemic, the cult was broken up and Haddie was sent into the foster care system for quite some time. As a teenager he was put back into the custody of his now devoutly religious mother, and they moved to a suburb of Boston to live with his aunt. Here he became aware of the supernatural, and yearned to control the seedy darkness of the afterlife. Haddie became fascinated with the occult, reading all he could find of any esoteric ritualism; satanism, alchemy, wicca, he wanted to know it all. Over time he refined his own brand of necromancy, creating his own practices and a belief system he believes gives him limitless power over the undead.

[User]
"I intend to." Beck replied stalely when her apology was rejected. The day was shaping up to be quite gloomy, the dim bluish clouds prohibiting any rays of dawn from streaking the sky. It was still early and this lot had walls on all but its north side, so it was relatively safe from the sun for quite a few more hours. Safe from cops and slayers following the trail of blood leading to the body before them, that was another story. Beck stood up. "Do you need to go somewhere? Mornings coming and I'm not waiting around for more Guard."
Beck tilted her head toward the van as she spoke. She knew the last thing Nessa wanted was to spend even another second with her but it didn't seem right to strand her out here without a word.

[Assistant]
Vanessa Poirier

---

Nessa observed Beck every time the she turned away. Golden eyes examining the other person in an annoyed, but curious manner. It was hard to read what Beck's deal was. She was a slayer, that much was obvious, but she seemed more like a lone wolf than a pack animal.
Soon Beck asked, if Vanessa had somewhere to be. Sighing with a nonchalant shrug, the ravenette replied: "I was going somewhere, but then this happened, so..." she motioned her leg. Most vampires had a strong healing factor. Nessa did not. She couldn't walk even if she tried to, not without support. Not that she wanted Beck to figure that out. She was pretty much out of options, however. Maybe she could stall for a bit.
"Might want to get rid of that thing," Nessa commented, nodding at the now corpse of a man with carefully controlled distain. "I apologise for the mess. Doing things the old fashioned way isn't my style. Usually, that is." Although Vanessa apologised, it was clear she wasn't apologising to Beck, but rather her own erratic behaviour from earlier. Nessa hid behind a shell of elegance, after all.

[User]
Beck shrugged. "I know the cops in this town, I'll tell them I found him like this on my way back to the van. I didn't touch him, his own gun killed him, and somehow I doubt you're in the system. If they come to double check my story it won't be until after the coroner is done with him."
She looked disapprovingly at the dead slayer. The shot had caved his forehead in a bit, and with all the blood it looked like he'd been beheaded. Pretty gruesome, and she felt a twitch of guilt, but he was the one who decided to stalk town with a gun and shoot whoever he thought he could get away with.
Beck went back to the van, putting the medkit back under the seats and closing the large door. She opened the passenger door and looked back to Nessa. "Seriously, I'll take you wherever you want to go. It's the least I can do."

[Assistant]
Vanessa Poirier

---

So, the woman knew the cops. Vanessa nodded to herself mostly, making a soft 'hm' sound with the back of her throat. That could prove to be profitable for Nessa. Choosing her alliance was of utmost importance. A new plan began forming in Nessa's mind.
As Beck went to the van and opened the passanger door with an inviting motion, telling Nessa she would take her wherever, Nessa hesitated. The woman had already proven to be pretty trustworthy. That didn't mean Nessa trusted her, but she from what she'd observed Beck seemed like a woman of her words.
After musing for a while, Nessa nodded and got up gingerly to avoid putting too much weight on her left foot. She tried to walk to the van as normally as she could, both to maintain her dignity and to hopefully make Beck think her leg was already healing. It wasn't. Or it was, but it was doing so rather slowly. Vanessa would feel this gunshot for at least a week even if she wouldn't limp with it more than a few hours, a day at most. Still, Nessa hoped Beck wouldn't question it. She'd already roused suspicion by revealing one of her abilities.
"Very well," Nessa said as she mounted the van with a smile that was more out of politeness than genuine emotion, "It'd be rude to turn such an offer down."
It was kind of cosy inside the van, actually. Now Nessa could truly appreciate it. It wasn't overly clean and high-end, and it was what Nessa liked about it the most. Despite her more... posh appearance Nessa found herself being pulled towards this sort of decor. It was something she'd never had growing up, all she'd ever had was a lot of objects you weren't allowed to touch and rooms you weren't allowed to play in.
"Do you know where the Redhaven Bar and Grille is? You can drive me there - it's a mile south," Nessa said. She didn't really feel like going to a bar, but she wasn't about to reveal her home address to this woman, no matter how trustworthy she might've been. And as it turned out, Nessa lived practically next to the bar in question. So it was the perfect disguise.

[User]
The bus was quite a spectacle, especially with its faded paint and boxy shape, but it was cheap to maintain and perfectly suited for Beck's purposes. On the inside it was worn but clean, clearly lived in but organized. The fabric seats were nearly threadbare in places but free of stains or holes. Two dog tags and a silvery pendant depicting a nun were hanging off the rearview window with, and they jingled quietly against each other when Beck shut the drivers side door.
She withdrew her car keys from a pocket on her rig and started the car. "Yeah, I know where that is. Hold on for a second." Beck made a point to throw the van into a speedy reverse, making deep and noticeable tracks in the gravel to turn out of the lot as hard and fast as the weathered vehicle could. She reduced her rate of speed, decelerating to a safe speed by the time they came to the end of the block. "If I've just seen a murder and I'm chasing a vampire, I'd get out onto the road as fast as I could to pursue them. Unfortunately I wouldn't call the cops until after I've lost track of the suspect. Sorry if I startled you, though."

[Assistant]
Vanessa Poirier

---

Vanessa had to admit, Beck was a quick thinker. Something she greatly appreciated in a person. Hearing Beck's explanation for the less than comfortable start on their journey earned her a little appreciative look from Nessa. It was the most impressed Nessa was of Beck's doings so far.
The van drove a safe speed on the cobblestone pavement, filling the charged silence between the women. Nessa was out of words, and the silence betweem them was filled with unanswered questions and secrets. Although theor destination was just a mile away, Nessa could tell this was going to be a long ride it things continued this way.
Trying to keep her calm, Nessa stared determinedly out of the window, trying to appear busy or in her thoughts. She couldn't help but glance at Beck ever so often though, breaking the illusion. What was she thinking, Nessa wondered?


[System]
Age:
20

Magic:
Drill Magic
A magic that allows the user to rapidly spin their body, or just individual parts such as limbs or digits. Drill Magic can allows the user to move quicker and even fly when used properly, as well as actually drilling through solid objects. The rapid spinning motion adds more power and speed behind attacks. Enough spin can even turn a simple attack deadly.

Magic Level:
B

History:
Beatrix Valente was born to Miguel and Janet Valente. Both Dark Mages of the guild White Hydra. Along with the title of Dark Mage, Beatrix inherited her father's Drill Magic and strength. While she was being raised and trained to be a Dark Mage, she was being raised in the guild alongside a young Maddox Colburn. The two were born several days apart and the only two children in the guild, so it was inevitable they eventually befriended each other. Only this was after Maddox was initiated as a Dark Mage, as she didn't care for him while he was still a slave child.

While Maddox only pretended to enjoy his future career, Beatrix actually did want to become a Dark Mage like her parents. Due to their similar age and their friendship, they often worked together as kids when out on illegal jobs. At ten years old, Janet Valente was ambushed by the Magic Council and was accidentally killed when she resisted. This left Beatrix with only her father as family, though she viewed the other members of White Hydra as family. As she was a few days younger than Maddox, Beatrix was more or less considered the baby of the guild, so it was clear that the others were close with her as well.

Her general life of crime and sin came to a screeching halt when she was eighteen. While out performing an assassination job with two other guild members, Maddox destroyed the entire White Hydra guild and all those inside it. Including her father. When the small team returned to find the guild hall destroyed and all the dead bodies in the ocean, they were totally shocked and blindsided. It took some time to discover the culprit was Maddox, as he was the only one unaccounted for among the dead. While the other two surviving White Hydra members decided to call it quits, having no friends or guild to turn to anymore, Beatrix decided to stay as a Dark Mage by herself and avenge her father's death.

The years after this have been spent trying to find Maddox Colburn. Of course, a life of lawlessness has led the Dark Mage to live like an outlaw. Constantly stealing things she needs to survive and simply breaking into homes to find places to sleep. Her journey to find Maddox was mostly dead ends and useless information, but several months ago she happened upon an old copy of the Weekly Sorcerer, which featured Maddox inside it. Discovering that he belonged to the famous guild Phoenix Wing, Beatrix crumpled the magazine and made her way to Magnolia.

Personality:
Full of energy and brash, even somewhat vain. And of course: highly aggressive. These are all ways to describe Beatrix. Her generally volatile behavior is perfectly accompanied by the fact she has a constant desire to break rules and laws. She is prone to do as such on mere whims, ranging from simple boredom to having one of her angry fits. While she is headstrong and not much of a thinker, she does have common sense and the capability to think before acting. This is just a rare occurrence, not a totally impossible feat. She has a soft spot for sour candies and cute animals, but not much else. Though generally despicable in her acts, she does have a strong sense of family and friendship. It's just that she has so far had family and friends of immoral aptitude, and she has thus followed suit. General anarchy is her favorite environment and she will often make the effort to change the environment around her to fit that quota.

Team Members:
None. Not like any would really want to join forces with Beatrix anyways.

Three Strengths:

1. If Beatrix has one thing going for her, it's her raw physical power. She hits like a truck.

2. The versatility of her magic allows her great ease for navigating difficult environments.

3. Quite speedy, even without her magic. Fast and agile.

Three Weaknesses:

1. Not the sharpest tool in the shed.

2. A little too quick to act. Brash.

3. A tendency to focus on only one thing at a time.

Greatest Love:
Sour Candy

Motivation:
To destroy the man that killed her father and ruined her life.

Appearance:

Beatrix stands at an unimpressive height of 5' 9", making her middle-of-the-road in stature. Her clothing choice varies often, but she typically prefers to wear a style similar to that depicted in the image above (short shorts, revealing tops, etc). She almost always wears tall, black boots with black laces and her signature greaves. She has a black guild mark on the right side of her right thigh, about midway up. While travelling or outdoors in general, she often conceals herself in a purple hooded cloak to help evade unwanted recognition.

Additional Details:
Beatrix Valente has a standing bounty of 200,000 Jewel in just one of the towns she has a bounty in, given to her by the mayor of Regala, the town that White Hydra used to bully the most before its destruction. She is wanted in several cities and towns across Fiore for infractions ranging from petty theft to aggravated assault to vandalism and even destruction of property. Regala is the only town she has charges for murder in. The Magic Council is yet to post its own warrant for her arrest. And of course: theme song.

Supplementary List of Spells
Note: All foes hit with any of her spinning attacks will also be spun themselves. The sheer power behind each blow makes blocking a difficult and painful task, but successful blocks or simply being strong enough allows a victim to resist the spinning effect.

Drill Magic: Breaker Fist - A powerful haymaker punch with the influence of her magic. Her arm spins rapidly as she makes the punch, adding to the pure power and speed behind it. Enough power, in fact, to break steel.

Drill Magic: Swiveling Blast - Similar to the above spell, only performed with a wide kick rather than a punch. Even more powerful than her Breaker Fist with slightly more reach, but also somewhat slower to perform.

Drill Magic: Spinning Propulsion - By rapidly spinning her lower body, Beatrix propels herself through the air. This allows her to move even faster than running and she can even fly like this. It must be noted that she cannot hover like this, as she always has forward momentum. This can be used to add even more force behind her attacks as well as for maneuvering around her environment. She can make her entire body spin to go even faster, though this limits her attacks to only charging directly at a foe to cause damage.

Drill Magic: Air Burst - Beatrix rapidly spins her arms after putting her hands together directly in front of herself, facing an enemy. After spinning her arms for a moment, gathering the air around her and spinning that along with her arms, she shoots the spinning, compressed air at her foe by splitting her arms apart. Her only form of ranged attack, and it retains the same power as any of her regular strikes. However, due to being a different composition, it has different ways to get around it. Moves at high speed and is actually quite wide.

Drill Magic: Burrowing Mole - By rapidly spinning either her lower body or both arms above her head, Beatrix can actually function like a drill and easily carve a path through the ground. Her drilling capability allows her to easily go through stone, and go through steel with difficulty. Hitting an opponent while using this spell has a different effect compared to the other ones. While her other attacks inflict blunt force trauma, this attack is actually "sharp" and will not only cut opponents but can completely impale them.

Supplementary Combat Details
Martial Art Style:
Beatrix doesn't use a named art as he form of melee combat. Rather, she uses her own self-developed style that is reminiscent of Western Boxing, placing an emphasis of a combination of light and quick strikes to open up an opponent to a heavy, hard-hitting blow. While her most common form of striking comes from her fists, her most powerful strikes are from her legs. Her leg power makes her sweeps highly effective when she uses them. While her martial art is unnamed and self-taught, it has been proven to be of a comparable status to the more traditional fighting styles.

Aside from the basic striking plan mentioned before, Beatrix's body actually has a lot of motion in her fighting stance. This allows her to bob and weave around attacks with greater ease, allowing follow-up strikes and counters. When it comes to defense, her preference is to dodge rather than to block. But she keeps her arms in and will block attacks that are aimed toward her face/head and attacks aimed toward her center of mass (with her legs more so than her arms). The general rule of her combat style: quick upper-body movements and strikes, strong lower body blocks and strikes. Due to her natural strength, and especially when amplified by her Drill Magic, even her light jabs have respectable power. Much how her style is unnamed, she has no named techniques to attribute to her martial art.

Supplementary Records
Criminal Record:
Her rap sheet has no shortage of marks. Cities and towns all over Fiore have her name on file for various crimes committed in their territories by Beatrix. The most common crimes being theft, aggravated assault, and vandalism, though she has committed far more than just those. It should be noted that she does have several murder charges related to assassination jobs of the past, though those are few and far between. Different cities have different bounties for her capture, with the highest being 200,000 Jewel in the town of Regala, and a cumulative bounty of 376,000 Jewel. Despite her "impressive" records, no actions have been taken against her by the Magic Council.

The Weekly Sorcerer:
Beatrix was featured in a brief article on up-and-coming Dark Mages that are potential threats to how magic is perceived but also don't belong to a guild. She was only mentioned by name without listing any deeds or providing any pictures.

[User]
[Damian]

Damian timed his counter attack perfectly, sliding under the attacks and ramming his shoulder into the girl, knocking her back and away from where she'd started, switching to the Ares Blades and then summoning a Blade Shield to catch one of her attacks as she countered upon recovery. "Yes, very well then. How does it make you feel knowing you've torn apart innocent guilds just to feed your own greed?" He summons a piercing blade as he slashes horizontally, one of his few spells that had to be dodged. "We will bring down your corrupt government, rest assured. And I will beat you." Following up the piercing blade, he sends out a triple blade strike, sending out a second and third piercing blade, to keep her moving, and then dropping a sword blade from above in an attempt to surprise her.

[James]

"So you think, dark one." Moving forward, James began to prove how fluid and skilled he could be, even with a sword and shield. He moved in quickly, slicing from the right horizontally, but had the blow blocked. Spinning back away, the shield found it's mark with the right side of Angelica's body knocking her off balance enough for the light magic sheathed blade to leave another cut on her arm, this one feeling as though the arm had had a chunk of meat torn from it. Her counter, an attempt to use his shadow against him, was countered with a use of Holy Might, which also gave his blows more oomph. Rolling forward and standing inside Angelica's guard, James head butted her then caught her head as it went back and slammed his knee into it. As she stumbled away, if a tad involuntarily, he blasted her with another Divine Light, which put her on her knees after colliding with a wall. "Surrender dark one, you can't hope to beat us."

[Assistant]
Karn's ears perked as he smelled another feline and his emerald eyes looked around the room. He managed to spot the black figure, recognizing it as Kali, whom hissed and meowed viciously. His fur fluffed, fluffy tail lashing side to side as he crouched when the black cat jumped onto the table with him. As Kali lunged, Karn quickly rolled onto his back and kicked the black feline, flinging her over him and off of the table.

A cat would be fine and would just land on their feet, so Karn quickly climbed into the man's lap, curling in a crouched ball. Ears flattened with fur fluffed, giving a meow at his attacker. This was a predicament. He hadn't expected to be found by the black feline and be outright attacked. She just seemed like a regular cat and he could handle her easily if he changed, but that would blow his cover and make this mysterious man possibly nervous and think Karn was trying to ambush him or something.

[User] Mayt sighed as the woman threatened them, and turned to face her. "Funny, I didn't think we were doing anything wrong." He drew his sword almost casually, holding it diagonally across his chest as he approached the council mage. "We were just hoping to get some information t help another one of our guild-mates, and you just come along and start yelling at us. I personally don't appreciate it at all." He focused the heat he always kept around him to the edge of his sword again, but was careful, anticipating she'd throw another one of her attacks, and hoping he was right in assuming it was just focused heat with no force. "It's what someone with something to hide would do honestly."

[Assistant] Lazarus clenched his fists in surprise when everyone came crashing in. He watched the events unfold, and Master Jamie was wrapped in shadow. Jamie called out his and Sasha's names. Whether the master wanted them to run or not, he didnt know. His eyes narrowed. "Do not fear master..." He paused for effect. "We will defeat these two." He was referring to the twins. "Easy? Ha! You know... you shouldn't underestimate the man who is about to put you on your ass." He cracked his knuckles, and removed his white jacket. He wouldn't give them the chance to do anything first. "Regulus impact!" He held his palm out, firing a beam of light magic towards the chest of Ted. He grew his wings and acrobatically jumped upwards, grasping Sasha, bring her into the air too. "Now Sasha!!! We will defend Phoenix wing!" If she looked, his expression was filled with fury. He looked like a man who would die for the cause.


[System]
Sex: Misanthrope Motorcyclist
Age: 17
House: Stardust House

Duel Disk RUNNER: Fyodor's duel runner is a sleek, black motorcycle with no rims inside the wheels. When it is running it gives off a faint orange neon glow in the wheels and inside the wheels. His duel runner has an attachable component for his duel disk which Konstantinovich can remove and use separately if he so chooses. The duel disk is black and has a dark orange blade which is shaped like a scythe.

Personality: Konstantinovich is a rather miserable man. He is a bitter curmudgeon and lone wolf. While he claims to hate humanity alongside constantly wishing death among them, he does in fact yearn for people to be near him. This is solely because he wants people to be around to hear his dark and brooding monologues that he is fond of. The only things he truly loves are reveling in the mayhem of darkness and motorcycles.

History: Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich was a 'little miracle' to his family, namely because this was the first time his father was able to properly spawn a child with his wife. The boy who would become The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell, lived in a cold, but not terribly dreary, cozy little town. From an early age Fyodor had a troubling temperament that worried those around him. He was always off on tangents of doom and despair and claiming he was sent by the Devil to make sure the world of man would be cloaked in his vision. In order to help cure this boy's melancholy his father made him work in his garage. For a brief period of time, it seemed that Fyodor was getting better as the boy did like getting to help in the workshop.

This was not the case, as Fyodor was simply biding his time to create a Duel Runner. At the stroke of midnight he rode from his home and across the bleak and snowy landscape to find other settlements of population to torment. He caused mayhem for quite sometime until he got involved in a crash accident, in which police were finally able to apprehend him. While it seemed likely Fyodor was doomed to perish in prison for the rest of his days, a Japanese man showed up out of the blue and managed to get the boy off scot-free. Well not exactly scot-free, because in exchange for freedom from prison he was essentially told that he would go to the Saotome Duel Institute.

Wish: To dance with the devil in the pale moonlight, after ensuring the world was engulfed by darkness and sin.

[SOLAR LEGACY] Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned
Level 8 Dark type Zombie/Synchro/Effect monster
3000 / 2800
(1 Zombie type tuner monster + Dokurorider)
As long as this card is on the field, your opponent cannot target anything else on your side of the field and can only attack this card. If this card is sent from the field to the graveyard, you can banish 1 zombie-type monster from the graveyard: Special Summon this card.

Monster Card
Mechanic of Dokurorider
Level 6 DARK Zombie/Tuner/Effect monster
1500 / 730
When this card is tributed for the Ritual Summon of "Dokurorider", you can special summon this card and its level becomes 2.

Spell Card
He's Going the Distance
Equip
Equip only to a "Dokurorider" monster. When an attack is declared involving the monster this card is equipped to, target up to three of your banished Zombie-type monsters: Shuffle that target(s) back into the deck. If you do, draw a card.

MONSTERS - 30
Castle of Dark Illusions x1
Pumpking the King of Ghosts x1
Pumprincess the Princess of Ghosts x2
Clown Zombie x1
Armored Zombie x1
Dragon Zombie x1
Plaguespreader Zombie x3
Spirit Reaper x1
Pyramid Turtle x3
Il Bud x3
Zombie Master x3
Mezuki x2
Ghostrick Ghoul x2
Ghostrick Mummy x1
Ghostrick Skeleton x1
Ghostrick Warwolf x1
Summoned Skull x1
Dokurorider x1
Mechanic of Dokurorider* x1

SPELLS - 16
Revival of Dokurorider x1
Zombie World x2
Pyramid of Wonders x1
Temple of the Sun x1
Call of the Mummy x1
Foolish Burial x2
Book of Life x3
Pre-Preparation of Rites x1
Everliving Underworld Cannon x2
Overpowering Eye x1
He's Going the Distance x1*

TRAPS - 11
Call of the Haunted x2
Dark Illusion x2
Escape from the Dark Dimension x2
Shiranui Style Samsara x2
Tutan Mask x2
Trap of the Imperial Tomb x1

EXTRA DECK

MONSTERS
Revived King Has Des x1
Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned x1 [SOLAR LEGACY]

MONSTERS - 30
Castle of Dark Illusions x1
Pumpking the King of Ghosts x1
Pumprincess the Princess of Ghosts x2
Clown Zombie x1
Armored Zombie x1
Dragon Zombie x1
Plaguespreader Zombie x3
Spirit Reaper x1
Pyramid Turtle x3
Il Bud x3
Zombie Master x3
Mezuki x2
Ghostrick Ghoul x2
Ghostrick Mummy x1
Ghostrick Skeleton x1
Ghostrick Warwolf x1
Summoned Skull x1
Dokurorider x1
Mechanic of Dokurorider* x1

SPELLS - 16
Revival of Dokurorider x1
Speed Spell - Advanced Ritual Art x1
Speed Spell - Tribute to the Doomed x3
Speed Spell - Brain Control x1
Speed Spell - The Shallow Grave x2
Speed Spell - Acceleration Limiter x3
Speed Spell - Faustian Bargain x2
Speed Spell - Final Attack x1
Speed Spell - High Speed Crash x2

TRAPS - 11
Call of the Haunted x2
Dark Illusion x2
Escape from the Dark Dimension x2
Shiranui Style Samsara x2
Tutan Mask x2
Trap of the Imperial Tomb x1

EXTRA DECK

MONSTERS
Revived King Has Des x1
Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned x1 [SOLAR LEGACY]

[User]
Matt Ronwell

---

Matt glanced at his ringing duel disk with mild curiosity. It really was wonderfully convenient. The annoucment was quite interesting, it seemed this would shake things up considerably, not for him of course but he could imagine those folks who used the extra deck and those pendulum monsters would have to get used to these changes. Matt shrugged and began looking for Lua to follow up on his duel request. He'd held off on the duel on account of having already gone through the tournament but today nothing really was going on except for classes and those random people that were supposed to show up.

[Assistant]
Carnel did what he could to grow more accustomed to his new home, going through his usual routines of getting ready for the day. He warmed himself up before jogging a few laps, getting his morning exercise in for the day. When he was done, he got ready to go get breakfast at the cafeteria. Ignoring the somewhat menacing appearance of the lunch man, Carnel approved of the quality of the meal he had received and found a spot to sit down and eat.

As he was eating, his Duel Disk suddenly lit up. Carnel, surprised, immediately turned to see what was going on. What was currently being shown was the image of Mokuba Kaiba, the CEO of Kaiba Corporation, and the sudden announcement of the new Link Summon mechanic completely caught Carnel off guard. Carnel took a couple moments to think about the new information, and found that he rather liked the new development. The majority of his decks never had a need for an Extra Deck, so he realized that he found himself with an advantage over others who relied on the Extra Deck for their main powerhouse monsters. Granted, the advantage would not last as people would eventually adapt to the new rules, so Carnel would make as much use of it as he could. The idea of the new Link Monsters was quite interesting as well, making Carnel wonder how well he could use them.

Finishing up the last of his breakfast, Carnel gathered his things and readied his Duel Disk. Carnel hoped to be one of the chosen for this new event. The idea of obtaining a Link Monster was a fascinating one, never mind one before most others could, and he did not intend to let it pass.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 15

Appearance: Blake sits at an ordinary 5'7''. He's in pretty good shape considering he's a rather active person, but he doesn't really have much of a fashion sense. He's never without jeans, sneakers, and some sort of white or yellow shirt combination.

Personality: Blake's a kind person at heart. He doesn't normally mean anyone any harm and usually tries to be as considerate and accepting of others as much as possible. Everyone has their slip ups, though, so Blake's not immune to the occasional foot in mouth. This kindness stems from his desire to live up to the ideals of a superhero. Kind, caring, and always willing to stick up for those in need. In that last regard, he's a bit reckless, but he honestly just can't abide by someone getting picked on or worse. He considers anyone who can jive with that sort of attitude a friend.

Beyond all his kindness, he has an adventurous and curious side to him. He's always loved trying new things, investigating something he doesn't know about, or just plain getting out and seeing what lies beyond his home. With those tendencies in mind, Blake's attention to wander away when he's cooped up inside and forced to do things irrelevant to his interests. As you might guess, this reflects rather poor on his grades. Not that he minds too much… At the moment.

Background: Fifteen years ago, a pair of twins were born to a loving Filipino couple. Blake is the eldest twin and can be described as the energetic to his brother's chill. The adventurous to his brother's stay-at-home. The less-studious to his brother's more-studious. The "more likely to jump into danger and call it 'being a hero'" to his brother's "I enjoy living and would rather stay right here." From a young age, Blake's always been greatly interested in exploring the world beyond his own home, and that feeling was only exacerbated when he started getting into superhero shows and comics. He dreamed of being a superhero when he was a kid, but as reality set in he ultimately just decided to follow the ideals set by them. That is, being as kind and caring as possible, helping the innocent or struggling, etc. etc.

Relations: Blake considers anyone that gets along with him his friend! (Undecided)

Power:

[User]
Thursday March 21st, 2016

Hal followed everyone aboard the strange ship, and ignored what everyone else had to say, as he instead focused on trying to find buttons to push. A weird spaceship has to have fun buttons to push, right? He was so thoroughly engrossed in finding said buttons, he failed to notice the extending apparatus above him, and was caught completely off-guard when it switched on. The last thing he could remember before blacking out was a single thought.

Well, shit.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Saturday March 23rd, 2016

Hal woke up Saturday morning to the sound of his alarm. His arm felt heavy as he reached to shut it off-

and his eyes snapped open at the sound of crunching wood.

He stared in shock, and not quite horror, as he stared down at his hand, encased in a heavy, golden gauntlet. Where the hell had this come from? After a few seconds, he could place its familiarity; he'd drawn a gauntlet just like it before he left...

Wait just a second. The last thing he remembered was the inside of that strange sky-machine. How in the world was he in his bed? Hal got up, and changed into some fresh clothes. He glanced at his phone as he went downstairs;

"Saturday. It's Saturday. How is it Saturday? I must've passed out for longer than I thought." He went in search of his father, hoping maybe he could shed some light on things. He threw on a sweatshirt, pulling the sleeve up over the gauntlet. He slowly opened the door to his father's "office", finding him passed out over his newest piece. That figures, Hal thought. All right, Plan B. That directory had to be around here somewhere...

Hal starting quietly rifling through his father's drawer, raising the school directory triumphantly. He went through it, looking for familiar names. Finally, he found one. "Richard Calhoun. He's the one Largent beat up, right?" He copied down the address, and set out. It wasn't too far away. The gauntlet was starting to become very annoying, and slightly worrying. If strange things started happening to him, then surely the others would be affected too...

[Assistant]
Saturday March 23, 2016

"Wake the fuck up you lazy little shit!" Largent was startled from a deep sleep by a blow to the face. A moment later he experienced a sense of vertigo as the ground beneath him shifted, tilting had to his left and he rolled along until he crashed hard into another surface. Oh right. The ground hadn't shifted, his bed had. He blearily opened his eyes to find that his dad had lived the side of his bed, tilting him out of it and onto the worn and scuffed hardwood floor of his bedroom.

If Largent was the tallest person in his grade, his dad was one of the tallest people in town. Close to seven feet tall and almost equally as rotund, Gareth was not a pleasant man. He and his wife had married young when she'd ended up pregnant with Largent, an accident they hadn't wanted or planned for and they made sure to let him know it.

"We don't pay to send you to school so you can laze around all the damned time, you slept all day yesterday so get up and get some fucking work done!" Gareth roared and Largent cringed despite himself. The anger built up in his chest again. The same anger that always resided there like a cold knot of iron just behind his heart that he could never get rid of no matter how many people he took his anger out on.

He went to stand, too stunned from his fall and bleary from whatever happened to him to realize his mistake before it was too late. One thing he'd learned early on in life was that, when Gareth knocked you down, you didn't get back up until he left. Not if you wanted to keep all of your teeth. He lifted his head just in time to catch the crushing fist to his face. The blow lifted him bodily off the ground and tossed him across the room where he crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor again, taking a nearby desk lamp with him.

There was a crashing sound as the lamp hit the floor and the bulb shattered. Largest hand landed a scant inch from the broken bulb and he cried out in surprise when tiny tendrils of bright blue electricity arced from the lamp toward his hand. What in the fucking hell? he thought. five tiny bolts of lightning connect his hand to the bulb and instead of the pain he expected a growing warmth spread through his body. The cobwebs were swept away from his mind and strength flooded his limbs. The pain in his cheek and jaw slowly receded as well until they vanished entirely.

The whole time Gareth kept screaming, ranting at Largent over one imagined slight or another, but Largent wasn't hearing him. He held his hand out to the empty wall socket beneath where they lamp was plugged in. He could feel it. Humming through the floors and walls. Flowing, sighing, moving from one place to another. There was a beauty to it, a sense of order among the chaos.

"Mine," he growled and a thick bolt of electricity snapped from the wall to his hand with a loud hissing, crackling sound. The air began to smell of burnt ozone and hair as all the hair on his knuckles flash fried into nothing. He gasped and spasmed, his muscles clenching and convulsing throughout his entire body as he pulled the energy into his body.

"What the fuck are you doing? You stupid fuck, I hope you plan on paying the electric bill this month," Gareth snapped angrily. Largent still didn't hear him, and even if he had, he wouldn't have likely responded to the ridiculous statement.

The electricity suddenly vanished and Largent rose to his feet. Small tendrils of lightning crackled around his hands and when he raised his head and locked gazes with his father, the old man could see bits of lightning flashing in his gaze.

"You," Largent hissed. "Are never going to hit me again."

Outside, if anyone had been nearby to care, a loud crackling noise could be heard, accompanied by frenzied screams of terror. The screams went on for some time before they finally fell silent, and no one left the house again for several days.

----------

Richard

It hadn't taken long for him to get ahold of the right people. Took a little creative searching, but he managed it and by noon he had made contact with Mina and Alden. Hal, he hadn't been able to reach. But the others were on their way over to Sophias house. The door opened and Richard glanced up just as he was putting his phone down.

"I got ahold of a couple of people, they should be on their way- GAH! Why are you still naked?" he asked, hand coming up to cover his eyes.

Sophia looked down at herself and frowned before signing, I'm not naked, stupid. I'm wearing jeans.

"But no shirt, or bra."

She glared at him, not The Look, but still effective nonetheless and he sank back on the bed. "Anyway, some people are on their way so you might want to consider getting dressed. It seems like they've been experiencing some weird stuff too, so it looks like we'll have more to talk about than I think we ever have with some of them."


[System]
Jasper Theat
Species: Human (Uslam)
Faction/Unit: Imperial Army, serving as adjunct to Moff Wyte
Location: Lorya, Imperial Military Command
Synopsis of Role:
* Served in The Clone Wars aboard the Venator 'Absolution'.
* Supported Chancellor Palpatine's transformation to the Empire.
* Served in numerous campaigns, specifically under tarkin eradicating separatist holdouts.
* Returned to Uslam under Wyte's request.
* Became adjunct under Wyte.
* Put down early resistance movements personally arresting people.
* Is known as a ruthless and efficent attack dog of Wyte.
* Currently leads the imperial forces on and around Lorya while Wyte is away.

[User]
Uslam, Aryon Mountains, Two Klicks South of Acting Imperial Command

The sky was on fire.

Xaxus Shang stood at the old mine entrance- a small, rusted metal doorway in the side of a sheer rockface- the ruin of his face turned up, enjoying for a moment the spectacular and terrible display of light as the Moff and the Admiral's ships brawled in low orbit. Flashes of emerald and crimson scarred the sky; fiery trails burned in all directions as debris rained down from the embattled vessels and ignited on descent- like a thousand comets, like the stars falling. Lightning arced through the clear winter sky: stray energy shots dissipating in the atmosphere.

"Beautiful," he said, wiping spit from where it had leaked and frozen through gaps in his mutilated left cheek.

"Trapped the old pirate up there, I guess," said a Bothan soldier to Shang's right. He was peering through a scope not at the sky but at the Imperial Command Center down the valley, an octagonal compound of grey plasteel and low, square buildings at the base of a long white slope. The command facility was bustling with activity. The faint whine of TIE patrols was a clear beneath the howling mountain gale and the thunderous crackle of the orbital battle, "That's it for fleet support."

"Wouldn't be so sure," said Shang, "I've worked under Xen's command before. The man has a way. Rumor is he's spooky, touched by the Force, but don't let him hear you say that. Unreconstructed Seperatist- he doesn't take kindly to Jedi types, or the other kind."

"I doubt any of us'll get much to say to the good Admiral again," replied the Bothan.

Shang shrugged and turned his gaze from the heavens to the men around him. A semi-circle of SpecOps soldiers in white fatigues, hunkered down among the pines and the boulders, most wearing rebreathers and goggles against the cold.

Two blasts of static came over their comm-units. The wookie's team had planted the charges.

Shang clicked his communicator thrice, then once, not speaking.

Get to the speeders. Blow it when you're out of range.

In Orbit, the Ancestral Right

The observation chamber was dark, like the nave of a temple, the only light coming from the blue glow of the central holodisplay, Uslam's pale radiance, and the turbolaser exchange taking place just beyond the thick glass windows.

Admiral Xen stood at the holo-projector, where the ferocious and silent battle outside was playing out in miniature before him. His head was bowed, like a man at prayer.

He was not praying.

His narrowed eyes were tracking the markers for Intruder squadron as they completed their run on Punisher. He watched as the squadron CO's X-Wing flashed red, then was gone, and as the XO's ship spun masterfully out of flak and tracer fire, taking out two TIEs in the same number of seconds.

Clang. The XO's callsign was Clang.

The Admiral tilted his head a moment, seemed to consider something, then straightened up. Outside, Punisher drew near, venting flames and atmosphere from at least four serious holes punched in her hull by Cutlass and Intruder. Good sized, but not fatal. Xen would see to that. Behind Punisher loomed Vronskr, already directing long-range fire at the rebel flag-ship, shrugged off for the moment by the Right's intact shields.

The battery exchange between Xen's battlegroup and the Punisher intensified as the rebels closed on the Star Destroyer. The Imperial vessel's forward shields glowed red, with ragged tears beginning to open along the energy seams.

"Alright, get in close and ugly," said Xen, "Keep Punisher between us and Vronskr."

Captain Zyme shot back a terse acknowledgement from the Right's bridge.

"All vessels," said Xen, "get your shots in on the Victory destroyer, then jump. Scimitar and Saber squadrons stay with me, keep those TIEs off the Right and use the vulture-screen to absorb fire. When I jump, you jump. Intruder, Cutlass, Broadsword and Stranger squadrons, get out of here."

Acknowledgments crackled in over the comms. The Right pulled alongside Punisher and let loose a catastrophic broadside, popping the Imperial ship's shields in a bloom of azure and crimson light.

The rebel fleet unloaded on the un-shielded Victory as one by one ships disappeared into hyperspace, fleeing to relative safety. Not all of them were so lucky. Vronskr's guns claimed the Corellian corvette Ashland and the Recusant destroyer Gamekeep as they powered up to jump.

Xen watched their icons disappear on his display. He spat onto the deck with a sneer.

Meanwhile, his flagship and Punisher danced, the rebel ship pivoting constantly to keep out of Vronskr's line of fire. The space between Punisher and Ancestral Right was a blinding flurry of scarlet and jade. Explosions raked Punisher's failing hull and the vessel began to come apart, its serrated-dagger frame splitting crookedly.

Vronskr- eager for a chance to take the rebel flag ship- fired on its lesser cousin, obliterating it and sinking a row of shots into the Right's prow, setting scores of decks ablaze.

There was an azure flash, and it was over. The Right was gone.

Xen had fled. The only rebel ships remaining were a handful of suddenly mindless vulture droids and the burning husk of Gamekeep spinning in the void, amid the vast smoldering ruin of Punisher.

Uslam's orbit belonged to the Empire once more.

[Assistant]
Aboard the Warspite.

The growl was almost audible from Wyte as the Rebel ships cut as close to the Punisher as possible. Credit where credit was due, the bombing run had been effective. The asteroids in the system had always had strange properties, she was told it was something to do with the mineral composition in them. Something warranting further study, however for now she had bigger things to worry about. The Punisher was going to go down, there was nothing she could do about that. She'd soon bring an end to this Rebellion, her tactic had been strong however in doing so it decreased the ability to take down a large number of ships, had she jumped into one formation she wouldn't have takena nything with her, and now she knew what she was up against. The loss of life was regretable, however in war it wasn't unexpected. The Rebels were better prepared than she had previously thought, fighters and bombers more heavily armed. Luckily numbers had prevailed and the sheer volume of TIEs in the conflict had eliminated a large amount of the Rebel Squadrons.

"Have the Vronskr fire across the Punishers prow, order Captain Fillx to abandon ship-" there was nothing she could do about the Punisher now, but she'd show her resolve. She could see as the order was instantly relayed, the Vronskr lashing out at the aging Providence, some of its shots missing the dying hulk of the Punisher others striking her and tearing through. As the last Rebel ship jumped into hyperspace she couldn't help but notice that not all the fighters had made a retreat into hyperspace. "-Admiral." She turned to face him, and he looked up in acknowledgement "Order the Vronskr to actively ignore the Rebel Fighters in their retreat, have it appear to focus on the rescue of personnel from the Punisher however I want an officer tracking each individual fighter on sensors. They've got a base somewhere, and I want to know where it is."

Quint nodded. "Yes Governor."

Things were moving along nicely, track those fighters discretely back to their base. That would give her wherever the Rebels were planning to launch their assaults in system, then all she had to worry about was the fortifications in Lorya. The city itself was already in a defensible position, situated up in the mountains. The shield generator that she had installed was the best available to the Imperial Military for shields of its type. With the fact that her space station was missing important components she had to run under the impression that the rebels had further fotified the capital, it wasn't that much of an issue for Star Destroyers but it was an issue for launching TIE fighter support and landing craft.

The information packet from the Colonel came in, detailing where the Rebels had dug in. The Warspite and absolution continued to pull into orbit. She smiled as the ship then slowed, it's powerful engines preventing gravity from taking her. "Begin blanket bombardment of Rebel Positions-" She turned to look out of the viewports. "-Clear a path to the capital, all ships and all batteries." She watched as the turbolasers lanced out down towards the planet, she could only imagine the fear from the Rebels as they heard the shots ring through the sky. It wasn't precise fire, given that the ships were holding in orbit and the targets weren't designated and marked. She turned around. "Prepare my shuttle, inform the Colonel to prepare Firebase Alpha for my Arrival. As soon as the orbital bombardment stops, launch the Gunships to clean up any survivors."

[User]
Near Phase Line Bravo, Grolsk Wilderness Reserve, 5:04 AM

---

The fire died down soon after, the Imperials seeming to draw back their fire altogether as what was left of the company cowered and waited behind felled trees, disabled hover sleds, and other debris. Stojan took a deep breath, flooding the hot air in his lungs and throat with cold air. He tucked his DL-44 back into its holster, adjusting his position as the sound of repulsorlift engines grew louder, until the sound seemed to come from everywhere, and the white vehicle, no larger than a cargo truck, pulled forth, the E-Web atop it swiveling wildly as the gunner searched for targets.

The entire company was abuzz. The wounded were packed on by those brave enough to stay, and the rest of the disorganized mass began to pile aboard, taking seats or simply taking place on the metal floors between the cots of wounded. Stojan made to be the last on, standing at the end of the cabin as the door closed, shrouding them all in darkness, leaving only the sound of moaning wounded and quiet chatter to flood the ears of all.

It was not a long ride, supposedly only half a kilometer, but it seemed so much longer as the cabin illuminated idly with what seemed like a million stars bursting and falling to the ground. But it was simply a bitter reminder that the battle had truly begun. The fleets were engaged, and the main Imperial force was gathering just beyond the woods, with enough men to simply trample the partisans. Stojan mulled at the thoughts as he looked through the port which the E-Web gunner stood, watching the exchange far above him.

[Assistant]
Secondary Imperial Command Center

"Sir, the rebels have fled. Moff Wyte's fleet are on trajectory to bombard the rebel lines as we speak." A comms officer said with an uplifting tone. Jasper gave a sly smile as well as he moved closer to the comms officer. "Lieutenant Stevenson, contact Major Conrad near Usal Tor . Confirm that the city is surrounded and still in rebel hands and that no troopers have entered the site yet." Jasper said the lieutenant nodded and began contacting the major meanwhile another comms officer Lieutenant Hesik called for the colonel's attention.

"Colonel, we had sent out a medical transport that was supposed to pick up some wounded. They arrived but when they got there they found a trandoshan with them seemingly unconscious. They aren't aware of what to do and are asking for orders." Jasper's eyebrow raised taking a moment to recall the trandoshan report he had read earlier. Kle he recalled and quickly narrowed his eyes, thinking of all the information he could obtain from her. "Lieutenant inform the team to bring her back. Be sure to restrain her, we wouldn't want her getting back."

Jasper then returned to Stevenson. "Major Conrad, confirms they have the city tightly locked down and awaiting further instructions." Jasper smiled with his gleaming white teeth. "Inform him to maintain positions and record the siege. Then get Squadron Commander Cassie on the comms. Inform her to prepare a bombing run against Usal Tor.We shall show Uslam any city housing insurgents shall be dealt with accordingly." Stevenson gave a look back to Jasper with eyes of dread yet knew enough not to say anything and carry on his orders. "Yes, sir." Jasper then began walking away informing Stevenson to prepare for the Moffs arrival, by sending men to the landing bay. Which was where Jasper had planned to meet her as she requested.


[System]
*Universe: Ranma 1/2

*Appearance: "I'm the best."

*Personality: Under normal circumstances, Ranma is fairly carefree and generally friendly to those around him. However, he also lacks experience in social situations and frequently speaks and acts without considering the consequences, or the feelings of others- leading to severe bluntness and the patented "foot in the mouth disease". He has no small amount of pride in his skills and will easily get angered by those who call him out on it or "annoying" people.

*Powers/Skills: Ranma is a master of several martial arts schools of Japanese and Chinese origin, his specialty being midair combat via the Saotome Branch of the Indiscriminate Grappling School. He is also considered superhuman as he can punch and kick several hundred times in only a few seconds, survive blows that would outright cripple or kill normal people, jump fifty feet into the air, and lob around heavy objects such as boulders and concrete rollers with abandon. Ranma also has an extremely fast learning curve, able to dissect and come up with counters to techniques after seeing them only a few times as well as liberally use clever on the fly tactics to outsmart opponents with a superior quality and a master of using any ordinary object as aides in combat such as but not limited to chopsticks, pencils, basketball hoops, his own hair, boulders, trees, pantyhose, ceremonial tea sets, forks and knives, kettles, and scarves. As of this point in the timeline, he can shoot balls/beams of ki that depends on emotions as well as several variants of a twister.

*Brief Bio: Ranma Saotome was raised to be a man amongst men by his father, a rather amoral thief and coward. After enduring a dozen years of outright insane training, he now resides in the house of his father's friend, Soun Tendo and engaged to his youngest daughter, Akane Tendo. After surviving a lifetime's worth full of jealous rivals, pushy fiancees, manipulative schemers, and magical princes/various supernatural entities of the week, Ranma was whisked to the City.

*Equipment: Anything and everything he can get his hands on.
*Others: He has a phobia towards cats that can result in a berserker state where he has the ability to shred stuff via a cat like motions, ranging anywhere from concrete to wood to even water into shavings. Also changes gender depending on the temperature of water with anything warm/hot for male and cool/cold for female.

[User]
Undyne - Skies over Mahora?

________________________________________________________________

Wind roared around her as she fell, 'eye' closed for but a few moments as she reveled in the thrill of gravity threatening to drag her into being crushed against the ground... "PFF! Fuck you Gravity! I'm Undyne!" She threw her limbs out to catch the wind, figuratively speaking of course, and slowed her descent by, like, a tiny fraction, since it wouldn't do to slow down so much she seemed like a wussy! Why she was even falling out of the sky at this point, whether it was the transition to another world or throwing herself in a grand leap from atop some other tall building, was a moot point.

What 'mattered' was what she saw when her eye opened... Creatures, she was sure humans would call them monsters, she was still trying to accept that it was just a word they used for evil things and dangerous beasts and that it was only coincidence that it sounded like her species... "Jeez Alphys, all that analysis turned my inner monologue into a walking tangent, UGH!." Screw it! A bunch of 'monsters' swarming over a barrier like an ocean of, She grinned suddenly, Targets!

Now she felt a familiar power coursing through her, pouring out of her hands and gathering around her in the form of those familiar energy spears, then with a swing of her arm a dozen of them launched down at the swarm... "CRAP!" and she sent herself tumbling about in the air from the motion "Screw you Physics! I preferred when I didn't know you existed!" not that this would stop her, She began re-summoning and flinging the spears at random, without a care in the world for the possibility that someone might already be flying around down there that might get hit or not... Nope! What mattered was that it was fucking AWESOME to drop hundreds of spears on a bunch of freaky Insect monsters that were trying to eat people!

Eventually she got lucky with several of her throws her caused her tumbling to start to even out, where she was able to better see her distance from the creatures, which had sense been peppered by the pointy projectiles, even if many of them were too large for 'normal' spears to kill them that instantly, the velocity of her fall augmenting the spears would've thrown the things clean through the softer ones and left big gushing holes in them "Hah! Never fails!" Next she put her hands together and summoned a much more concentrated spear, energy seemed to leak off of the pointed blade and pour around her like thin clouds as it enlarged and she angled herself into a dive towards the biggest critter she could see.

As if on que, an especially large beetle kind of thing became visible through the swarm and with a twist she aimed aimed herself for it... which really kindof meant it was directly under her to begin with. "PERFECT! HRRRAAAAAAGGGHH!" She let out a piercing battle roar as if that was going to make several hundred pounds of mostly armor and muscle falling this velocity hit the thing any harder than she already would.

The spear connected with it's head it's head with flawless precision!... Which meant 'at all' and with enough force to bury her entire self in the things shattered open head as it's momentum was suddenly and violently changed into a free-fall for the ground with a big glowing point coming out of the bottom of it, and a similar sharp rising out of the top. This ended suddenly with a Massive crash, dust, and preferably an explosion or two!... those might have just been in her head though. Regardless, the thing was still motionless save for an occasional twist of wings, and pinned to the ground by it's head.

"HAAAAAAAAH!" Came a Triumphant or possibly desperate shout from within the gorey mess which began shifting for a few moments... Then several glowing spears crashed out from within the chitinous mess of it's head and shattered a way for the mess to pour out, along with a series of clanks from something metal, which quickly stood itself up. It's helmeted head seemed to split a bit and vomit out a bunch of gooey muck before clanking shut again "UGH! Damnit, that things tastes Disgusting! At least I can clear my helmet... other than that, That was AWESOME! HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHH!" It looked rather an imposing thing probably, nearly 8 feet tall, metal armored from head to foot, holding a glowing blue spear, and with a helmet that itself looked like it would reach out and bite someone, while having only a single eye-hole that possessed a small glowing dot in it.

Finally she was on the ground! So, what's next? Oh right, figuring out what all these other not bug monster noises were.

...

For the first time in a long time she froze in... something. Humans, lots of them... But not just 'any' humans. Humans with weapons... big ones, making lots of noise, peppering the bugs in gunfire and slicing them up with deadly blades, and that was hardly all they were doing, some were beating them down with their bare fists too! There weren't 'just' humans either, there was some strange being covered head to toe in outlandish armor she hadn't seen before, someone with freaking 'monster hair', and a flying horse thing that was 'on fire' and currently on course to zip right over her with a plethora of bug monsters chasing it... oh hey, that's right, things to fight!

"Stupid! Gush later, Fight now!" with one excessively over done stomp that buried her left leg up to the ankle in the ground before her, accompanied by sloshing of nasty fluids that had gotten into the armor, she 'set her foundation' then spread her arms out and began summoning her spears again... This bunch were moving fast so she wouldn't have a longer period of time to pepper them, it would have to be one-"NOW!" She suddenly threw both arms forward, clapping them together as several dozen spears launched up in a converging pattern into the cluster that was passing by... Splitting one right down the middle from sheer focused hits, before the spears all scattered and embedded into various random targets. "BULLSEYE!"

[Assistant]
Kino

There were a lot of things Kino was unprepared for happening at once. Everyone had jumped into attacking, with a vast variety of methods. The strangest among them was, as far as Kino could tell, singing in order to power attacks. The singing girl was using the monsters as springboards, driving fists and feet into the creatures and crushing their bodies inwards with each impact. It seemed effective, if incredibly unusual. A few bugs were reaching beyond the others, though. Swiftly, Kino raised the Woodsman, and dove to the side as one landed in the spot she had occupied moments before. As it turned entirely to face her, the small dark-haired girl took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated in an instant and the twitching bug was sent to the ground, a smoking hole through the side of its head. Stepping back and swinging the Woodsman up, she fired again, taking out a second bug monster as it was swooping towards her. The body crashed to the ground with a thud.

Five bullets fired from the Woodsman. Five bugs dead. Nine bullets remaining before she had to reload.