[System]
Age: 28

Species: Turian

Gender: Female

Appearance: Standing at 5'10"(1.778m) and weighing in at 160lbs.(72.6kg) Sicari is just a little under the average height for the Turian race. She's a bareface with cold, ice blue eyes and a curvy figure, rivalling the attractiveness of a moderately arresting Asari. She has approximately thirteen scars on her body in various places, and has a pale green carapace with a slight bluish hue.

Occupation: Information Broker, ex-Blue Suns operative

Class: Infiltrator

Powers: Tactical Cloak, Sabotage, Overload, Decoy, Incinerate, Cryo Blast

Weapons: M-11 Suppressor, M-22 Eviscerator

Armor: Light Onyx Armor

Apparel: Charcoal-colored, form-hugging outfit, loose near the hips and underarms to conceal small arms and packages.

Equipment: Chameleon Omni-Tool, Prototype Venom Gauntlets

Personality: Very quiet with a soft spot for a good bottle of alcohol. Sicari's made more than one sloppy mistake due to either a hangover or a fit of drunkenness, though it is a rare occurrence. She does, however, have amazing attention to detail and spares no expense to cover each and every one of her tracks. She has an adept understanding of psychologies from various races, excluding Elcor and Human, as she, like most Turians, has difficulty reading the expressions, or lack thereof, of these two races. She also has a weakness for a select few drugs, such has Free Will (In reference to Leodiensian's Davo'Sallar) and cocaine, though often buys and disposes of very dangerous substances, such as heroin and meth, to help fulfill a dealer's quota. She's also a decent cook… if you're dextro-based, that is.

Biography: Born and raised to a militaristic Asari mother and an enigma of a father in the middle of an FTL jump in the Attican Tranverse, Sicari Velinian was forced to fend for herself from an early age. She constantly moved with her mother's fleet, being taught and trained among the Asari and the many other children in the flotilla. She was very much alone, since she didn't even have a quarter of the lifespan of an Asari, and had to have private mentors for an accelerated education. Thus, she was doing algebra by age ten, basic trigonometry at age thirteen, and learning physics since she could first speak. She came out a smart girl, and an even smarter adversary.

 Fast-forward to age sixteen, Sicari's mother was pronounced MIA after a botched mission on Virmire, and KIA after the bodies from the squadron were recovered, the mother's corpse among them. Sicari promptly made the decision to avenge the only family she had and left the fleet after they stopped at the Citadel, burning all her bridges in the process. She booked passage to Omega on a small transport owned by the Blue Suns, and made friends with one of the officers on the ship. She was offered a job as a drug distributor and readily accepted, leading to her cocaine addiction in the later years. She moved through the ranks quickly, proving herself as an asset time and time again, and was on good terms with much of the gang, though still alienated by many of Omega's Turians.

 At 25, Sicari earned her nickname in a border dispute with the Eclipse, where she was kicked off the balcony of a high-end apartment and landed on top of a passing Krogan, who decidedly shrugged off the Turian that was just forcibly evicted by a biotic blast from three stories up, and carried her to the nearest medi-gel dispenser. She spent several days unconscious, and around thirty seconds dead, in Mordin Solus' clinic, where one of the human physicians referred to her as "Icarus" until she woke, and then had to explain who Icarus was. Sicari liked the story behind the name, and decided to keep it as an alias. Upon her full recovery, she left the Blue Suns, but is still under their protection, for a fee. Given their history, it's at least a reduced fee, 40% off the usual amount.

 Soon enough, Sicari fell back into her old habits and started crawling around in vents, listening in to conversations and writing down what she hears. Like any information broker, she remains hidden with several operatives distributing the secrets and collecting payment. If payment isn't received, it's taken. It's a cut and dry business, and Icarus prefers to remain out of the limelight. "Let the Shadow Broker have the enemies," She'd tell a loyal client, "I'm content as long as I'm breathing and getting paid." She's recently relocated to the Citadel's Zakera Ward to find a newer clientele and up the ante, as law enforcement ranges from zero to nil on Omega, and she likes a challenge.

[User]
Most of the time, his officer duties were never easy. Yet, that mission had just gotten a lot more complicated. Aaron ducked behind a cargo container as soon as the shooting begun, trying to appear as harmless as possible accordingly to his superior's orders.

"Good grief" he found himself thinking, changing ammo to the only weapon he had. "At least they've got suits to protect them. This ain't easy." Take down a small smuggling team: the report never talked about experienced biotics and marksmen. Just because that wasn't enough, he had to cope with all that while trying to keep at ease that hot-head he had for a sister through short and evasive messages on his datapad.

He had already arrived at the designed location fifteen minutes before his fellow officers, had the time to scout the zone, and even take a close look at the mercenaries and the ship they were trying to stop. Hell! He was hiding just beside it: he was checking on the outer hull conditions when the C-Sec stormed in. Those unrelated with the matter had fled, or hid behind what nearer cover they could find, exactly like he did.

He took a rapid glance at the enemy line of defense. Barricaded over the dock. An asari, an human, a krogan and a turian. It almost felt like one of those old-human stereotyped puns. "... they each enter the same bar, one after another." reminded himself absent-mindedly. "The krogan beats the crap out of everyone, yet falls victim of the same alcohol which allowed him to survive the free-for all. Thus the winner is the salarian bartender and..." he stopped, noticing two things. Firstly, how bad he was at telling jokes, but that was public knowledge already; second, someone was missing to the count. Could it be-

A wild bullet hit his hiding spot, interrupting his thread of thought. He snapped back behind the box, utterly shocked by the close shot. Near a mercenary ship, the containers could contain all sorts of trinkets, some of which extremely dangerous and inflammable. No hissing sounds. He was greatly relieved to note he hadn't yet blown up, and that the cargo was most likely not hazardous. "Still" he thought "better take a cover closer to the squad". If he happened to find himself in trouble, he preferred to have the guns of his comrades close by, and not those of the mercenaries. Aaron quietly moved backwards from his position, sneaking a peek at the battle ground from time to time as he quietly reached the secondary access point to the walkway. It was then that he saw the drell fumbling over the magnetic locks of the cruise.

[Assistant]
Ekrom noted the movement to the side, after one of his merc's shot hit near the top. It seemed someone had gotten closer to the airlock than any of the other C-sec operatives. The others were stuck behind the suppresive fire of two more of his men, arriving in response to the heavy squad of officers. Pretty soon Sicar's standing condition was going to be more of a hindrance than just a minor inconvenience. Didn't C-sec realize they were outclassed? Adding more firepower to the situation just meant that more would be sent in retaliation! Ekrom had just blasted through the last firewall and was using a brute-force software program to plug in the access codes to the locks. The hard part was over, now he just had to hold out against the cops.

"Clear a path!" he shouted to his subordinates, who quickly yielded to their now glowing boss. His barrier ability had soaked up a many number of bullets, which would force Ekrom to reactivate the biotic armor. Perhaps there was another way, he thought. He threw out an arm, a long and powerful string of biotic force blasting away, but not killing, the C-sec task force. They were bashed against surrounding walls, not leaving a mark on the white walls, but more than likely knocked unconscious. Sicari was lucky Ekrom didn't just shoot her and take the contract on himself. It would make this entire expedition all the easier, not having red tape on a wetwork contract! "Who does she think is?" Ekrom wondered aloud, barely above a murmur and unable to be heard over the biotic detonations.

She'd be reminded that it was only Ekrom's quick actions and decisions that had allowed her such quick departure. Who the hell cared about the Citadel and her officers? Ekrom shook his head at his thoughts, not wanting them to allow his focus to wander. He'd given her free reign of decisions involving the squad while on the ground, but Ekrom would have to talk to her privately. Sicari needed to be reminded that he was a mercenary leader first and an accomplice second. And that orders could only go as far as the paycheck... She had another thing coming if she thought that her words were absolute.

Even as he waited for the program to finish its work, Ekrom drew his pistol. He quickly went over the last few moments in his perfect memory, realizing that he'd been right about the movement on their flank. His waking dreams refocused until Ekrom could easily see that a Turian had snuck from the recently shot cargo box, back around a wall not too far away. A beep brought his eyes back to the present, and the screen showing him green lights. Punching in a couple of commands, his nerves settled as the magnetic clamps released and raised away from Shadow Sword's wings.

Aaron watched in disbelief as the drell wiped out almost all of his companions with a single gesture. Could it be possible for them to be knocked out so easily? For just an instant, he was about to run to his companions and aid them, but he eventually realized what were the alien's real intentions. "Not on my watch" whispered between himself, drawing himself closer to him. Analyzing carefully the distance between him an the mercenary, Aaron pulled the sums of what do do. Well, there wasn't much actually: the passageway was quite open, without any decent cover from which he could get a clear shot. Sneaking up on him was definitely insane, and many other plans were either impracticable or deadly. Then, he simply tired of sitting idly.

Without much noise, he exited from his cover, standing in a straight line towards him. If madness was required to stop the ship from departing, then he might as well go with the worst option of all. He remembered fairly well his high-school years from Earth: especially the rugby PE sessions. Now that would have been funny. He smirked, nervously glancing both the fallen officers and his target. Firstly hopping back and forth on his flexible feet, he touched the ground with his left hand. The screen suddently emitted a green glow.
Now! He fixed his gaze upon him, determination filling his eyes, and then sprinted towards the drell. "Eat this, Northampton Saints!"

The heavy slap of the Turian that had been hiding made itself apparent rather quickly. With not much time to react, Ekrom did the only thing logical, activating his Charge and coming up behind the stranger as he blew past where he'd been moments before. Who the hell was this asshole with the hero complex?! Gritting his teeth, he spun on his heel, throwing his arm high and wide, bringing it down with his impressive augmented strength. The butt of his heavy pistol cracked down sickeningly on the Turian's head, in the hollow where plates met scales. The male Turian's body was like water, just falling as he fell into unconsciousness. "Valkyr! Get this bilge-rat on the ship!" Ekrom shouted to his own merc, the Turian that Jason had been antogonizing earlier. Glad to be rid of the human, he holstered his rifle and lifted his kin onto a shoulder. The krogan had become a barrier protected meat shield for the two as the Turian merc struggled into the airlock.

"Boss! We gotta go!" the krogan roared, noting the trio of C-sec fighters taking positions around the ship. Ekrom's nasal slits flared in frustration.

"Goddamn these interfering assholes!" Ekrom growled, before turning to Lysia and Jason. "You two, on the ship! We're clear to take off and time is of the essence!" Firing up his omnitool, he issued clipped and brisque commands to Urg. "Forget the goddamn cannon!" Urg's face twisted in anger and disappointment and he opened his mouth to argue. "I know what I said, fine, stay there, but only aim at the engine thrusters! We want them crippled, not dead. At least, this time." Urg settled into a satisfied smile. "Get Valkyr to start up the ship and get her moving, I'll take over piloting once I'm on board!"

He grabbed at Jason, noting that his shots unnerringly always hit just shy of the police. "This human is soft and not just because of his hide!" Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the back of Jason's armor and pulled him, then shoved him towards the airlock. Letting off another shockwave, leaving the officers suspended in the air, Ekrom turned to Lysia. "Thanks for the support, but you need to get on, now!" Ekrom didn't want to overstep his bounds with the asari woman, Lysia, however. Her stance said she was a professional, one of those mind-flayers they called commandos. Not one to be trifled with.


[System]
Age: 26

Appearance: Approximately 6 foot tall with classic Italian features, black hair, olive skin, and brown eyes. He also has the aquiline nose of the Romans. Val is in the prime of his life so with the combination of his shady lifestyle and genetics he is in rather good shape.

Occupation: Bootlegger

Interests: Fast cars, baseball, reading

Fears and Phobias: Drowning never sat well with Valentino, despite the fact he has on the giving end of that situation a handful of times. The first time Valentino killed a man he was forced to hold the man's soon-to-be-deceased head under water. Just the struggling before finally collapsing still sent shivers down his spine.

Superstitions: Val will knock on wood to prevent bad luck, as well as the occasional sign of the cross for more dire situations. The quick hand of his mamma also instilled an unhealthy fear to not spill olive oil.

Skills: Pistols, amateur fighting, Italian, driving, charisma

Intelligence and Sanity: Val never did make his way Chicago university, not that he doesn't have the brains, he just never was cut out for school. The lack of book smarts is made up by street smarts. Val is not the kind of man to break under pressure, however some of his past deeds are pushed down deep, searching for a way out.

Back Story: Chicago born and bred Valentino was the only son of Salvatore Ricci, one of the Caporegime, the captains, of the Chicago mob. He was a strict man and a loving father, however when it came time to choose Salvatore put his other family first.Despite many broken promises Val still loved his father and from a young age to the current day he would do anything just to gain approval. This pushed Valentino into a life on the other end of the law. It really started with the trouble in school, which slowly increased to petty vandalism and finally to a full time job running bootleg alcohol from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.

Bootlegging is something near and dear to Val. The thrill of it all, pumped by each beat of heart gives him something he can't find anywhere else and its lucrative. Being in your 20's with a pocket full of cash makes you spend money like a fool and for the right car Val would spend a fortune. Luckily, one of the perks of being associated with gangsters was that they might be able to pick one up off the docks for a fraction of the price. However this lifestyle does have drawbacks. It was years ago, but Val can still remember it clearly.O ne of his father's men was seen talking to the police and any form of crime, organized or not generally does not look kindly on rats. Val still doesn't know why his father chose him to do it, maybe he needed to show dedication or possibly just prove he was a man, yet he still had to do it. It shook him to the core, but he soldiered on. Val has killed many men, but nothing was as haunting as the first.

As the years went on Val continued to make himself useful to his father and those above him. Things were good in his life until his father came down with tuberculosis. It started with blood on his handkerchief and quickly progressed. As of this year he has been confined to his bed and stays wracked by red viscous coughs. It was not too long back when a letter crawled in speaking of the an old debt that needed to be repaid. In his father's place Valentino Ricci is sent out and dispatched to settle matters of a time past.

[User]
Val looked on this possibly bungling gang of 'cotectives,' after that James fella ran on in. As one of the first men in the house Val felt it was appropriate to offer out some of those fancy new Camels, after all "More doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarrete," well acording to the ad. Val handed out a smoke to everybody who wanted one before lighting up his own and took a drag.

" I'm Val, nice to make your acquaintance." He looked at him up and down, James definitely seemed the meek type. The bible says the meek will inherit the Earth, but Val was sure that was a typo. James seemed about the same age, but they seemed to have taken two very different streets in life. Ferd seemed very preoccupied with the kitchen window again. He gave Ferd a soft thump on the shoulder,

"Hey pal everything alright?"

[Assistant]
Ferd Smith

 As Richard walked up the stairs Ferd responded, "Ferd or Fred are both fine with me, I've been called worse things." He smiled at his own joke. He furrowed his brow at Richards comment about the house not looking very good a few years back. True the first floor had always been a bit messy, but was the man blind? Rot and decay covered nearly every inch of the place, save for the outside. Ferd felt the corner of his mouth tugging down into a concerned frown. Hopefully Richard wasn't one of those detectives that only accepted the cold hard reality they were used to. That would be a bit uncomfortable.

 "You mentioned a connection in Boston? What's the name, I'm from those parts myself, maybe I know him." Ferd commented distractedly. He'd been hired to find a book huh? Didn't sound very outside of Jeremy's realm of interest, but why in the world hadn't he just gone and done it himself? At the mention of North Africa Ferd's ears perked up. Really? Was Richard saying that because Jeremy had told him about the cave he was looking for, or had the book Richard had recovered mentioned Africa? Was it possible Jeremy had gotten ahold of one of those journals he'd been so interested in a few years ago?

 Ferd had to admit being here with out permission didn't exactly look good. They should probably make their presence known to the local authorities sooner rather than later. Ferd thought he remembered Richard mention something about some peeper hanging around nearby. One of them should probably go check that out.

 Val's hand on Ferd's shoulder was a surprise. Ferd looked at the slightly shorter man. Interesting bloke this one, not the callous sort of criminal, then again he might merely be checking in on Ferd out of self preservation. It didn't pay to have jumpy unreliable along on a heist.

 Ferd gave Val a half smile, "Yeah everythings fine Val. Thanks for going along with me just now." Ferd nodded at the door, "I think I'm gonna take a quick ankle outside, Richard mentioned something about something about some dewdropper kickin around outside. I'm hopin it's just some Jack out on a bender, but you never know. After than I think I'll head down to the local bull pen." Ferd jermed a thumb towards the stairs Richard had just waltzed up. "Ole Rich makes a point, we don't need the coppers comin in and gettin the wrong idea." Ferd stood up from the wall strolled towards the door.

 Almost on a whim he turned back to Val and said, "Wanna come along? Thought I'd try and find me a quilt along the way, might not be a bad idea to have us a chin." With another nod at the stairs Ferd went on, "Rich like as not can handle the snoopin here for now, to many bodies ed just get in the way." Ferd turned to the other two men and said, "One of ya's is welcome to come along as well, but we'd best at least make sure there's two of us together at all times. Oh and if the two that stay end up blowin outa here before me an whoever gets back they outa leave a note. Least that's what I'd say we should do." Ferd stopped waiting for an answer, still working through what little information he'd gotten his hands on at this point. He had some general leads at this point, but as usual nothing concrete.

[User]
Val took a drag of his smoke as Ferd said everything was fine. It really didn't make much sense as he did run out into the street yelling about some mark on the window. Either Ferd was really losing his beans or some wild shit is really going down.

"I'm down for a quick hoofin' I'm pretty sure breathing in all this stuff isn't the best for the old lungs." He took another hit of his cigarette, "Besides my nonna taught me how to quilt so I got you covered." Val chuckled to his own joke and walked out onto the porch, the gang's little peeping Tom was still living up to his name.

"Good news Ferd, our pal looks to be keeping an eye on this shit hole for us."

[Assistant]
Richard Barker

 As Richard ascended the moudly stairs of what both looked and smelled more and more like an abandonded shithole of a house, he was pleasently surprised to have none of the fellow occupatents attempt to stop him. Clearly they approved of his snooping tendencies more than any well-minded client would have if they only knew how he aquired informaton. Either that, or they were too busy with taking care of themselves down at the ground floor. Yeah, like normal people would do.

 At least something seemed off with Ferd again, a certain look of concern washing over his face as he replied back to Richard and telling him to call him whatever he wanted. Well that was a start, Fred was easier to say than Ferd. Then it was the matter of Richard's connection down in Boston. That part Richard chose to ignore, better to open that can of worms later when he didn't have so many balls to juggle. Also, he did not like the nickname Ferd gave him. Peaping over the railing of the stairs, Richard gave Fred one last look before he escaped their company in favour of the upper floor. "I heard that, Fred. Don't call me Rich, never been that my whole life."

 The upper floor looked almost as shitty as the lower one, save from the doors themselves not having massive holes in them. Richard made it upstairs, his eyes pearing over the landscape of rotting wood, carpet and furniture before him with his scanning eyes, noticing the disturbances on the floor. Clearly someone had been here recently, obviously Val or Fred who'd checked what looked like a study. That ruled out him checking that. Bedroom it was then.

 The door to what had been Jeremy's bedroom was weathered, but standing strong, and more importantly it stood locked. Richard grabbed the door handle with the end of his coat, feeling the door rattle by the lock still in the wall. Not to worry, the private dick knew what to do. Out of the few tools he kept hidded under his clothes, were a set of picks and wires. Lockpicks. Hey, you never knew when you'd need an extra set of universal 'keys', right? Soon enough Richard had picked the locked with an audible [b]click[/], pushing the door open and looking inside.

 "Jesus Christ, Jeremy wasn't just a pen-pal now was he…"

 Richard tried to take in the room as he slowly entered, though so many clues and strange bits stuck out to him and his police gut feeling. Firstly it was the fact that someone had upped and left in a hurry, packing their neccecities and gotten the hell out of dodge? That Harry fellow who was meant to keep the house under wraps? He shouldn't have had access to the room, but who else?

 Clothes rotted strewn around the room, the only pieces of junk resembling any kind of orderly mess the pieces of paper and photographs around the room - either neatly lain down on Jeremy's desk or hung up on the wall, strings running from one photograph and another. String, red string, a colour of warning. "Jeremy, you're a bit of a coockoo, ain't ya?" Richard asked himself, taking a deep drag of his cigarette before continuing his snooping.

 Which was only getting weirder and weirder.

 In one moment none of this mady any sense to the New York detective, only the left-overs of a rambling looney now half-way across the world chasing three-headed giraffes on the African savannah…but in another moment Richard saw something shine from the pictures, notes and red string - Logic, coherent thoughts, clues. Missing people's reports, coordinates, photographs of random objects and locations tied to the former…and all of them leading back to that Dark Continent to the white man.

 "Now this is a Chinese angle if I've ever been thrown ass first into one…"

 Richard stood by himself in the bedroom, smoking the cigarette and simply taking in all the clues around him, touching nothing and leaving all where he found it. He took some notes on the way, though the bizarre nature of the room would hardly leave a clean mark on his mind. For a moment Richard leaned out of doorway, shouting down to the others. "Hey fellas, how your looking going? You find anything yet?"

[User]
Ferd glanced over his shoulder at Richards shouted request. He stifled a smile and turned to holler up the stairs in reply, cupping one hand around his mouth.

"Sure thing Richard. No offense meant." He said. Ferd's ears pricked up at Val's word play. He chuckled out loud and smiled. He was starting to like Val.

It looked like neither James or Ambrose wanted to come along, so Ferd waved a quick goodbye and joined Val on the porch.

The rain hadn't let up, though Ferd knew it was wishful thinking to hope that it would have in the short amount of time since they'd all walked into the house.

He turned to look for the man Richard claimed he had seen standing out in the street. When Val spoke up again Ferd was surprised. How on earth had he found the man? He couldn't see as much as a silhouette in this fog. He followed Val's gaze and squinted as hard as he could. There? Maybe that was the man? He could just make out what looked like an arm holding what he assumed was a lit smoke of some kind. As the point of blurry red light moved up to where a man's head might be Ferd felt safe assuming that was the man he was looking for.

"Well shall we?" Ferd asked Val, waving an arm in front of himself as he walked off the porch. "Onward Chauncey!" Ferd called into the fog as he strolled toward the fellow in the fog. He wasn't to concerned about the man, after all if he was dangerous he probably would have done something by now. Still it would pay to be careful. Ferd made sure to keep in step with Val, thinking that the buddy system might be the only defense available to him at the moment. He'd have to get his hands on a pistol soon. He still had a bad feeling about this case.

[Assistant]
The fog seemed to swell up around the two as they left the safety of the porch. Val's hand was securely around his gun, slowly becoming a common occurrence in the city of Arkham. They walked side by side slowly approaching the red glare that symbolized the group's constant onlooker.

"Hey pal, what are you looking at? Got something to say?" Val let off in his angry Chicago inflection. However this man was none to impressed by his bravado and continued smoking. Val looked back at Ferd, almost saying "your turn" with his body language. For Val people generally responded to these aggressive tactics, so maybe it was just some Yankee thing to ignore an inquiry, but hey maybe Ferd can crack this nut. If not most people do respond to quick knee capping.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 17

Appearance - Nettaiya generally disobeys the dress-code in school, wearing his signature black jacket adorned with a myriad of bright badges and logos. He has sharp, short brown hair and brown eyes to match. He is quite short for his age and lacks any muscle - in his eyes, exercise is an action of futility.

Occupation: Student

Personality: Nettaiya is loud and abrasive - a self-centred boy who thinks the world of himself and little of his peers. He is a notorious loudmouth, though he rarely backs up the general big-talk that he spouts. He believes himself to be a genius, a poet, and the most important person ever to have graced the earth.

Power: The ability to attract and repel objects in the space around him. Nettaiya can pull any loose objects towards himself and fire them away from himself at will. Unfortunately, Nettaiya is damned if he's ever going to train his powers - he can only move extremely light objects, and with negligible velocity.

Color: Scarlet

Bio: Born to progressive and un-inhibitive parents, Nettaiya was generally allowed to do whatever he wanted to for the duration of his school-career. This freedom and sense of self-importance gradually blossomed into an almighty ego - an ego fuelled further by the bizarrely high scores that Nettaiya received in school tests and exams. Determined that he was a genius, Nettaiya continued to belittle the people around him until he was gradually shunned, though this social exile had little impact on him as he had scarcely noticed anyone else to begin with.

Naturally, the bizarre text-message that accompanied his new powers came as a great shock to Nettaiya; it was a hassle that he wanted no part of. Instead, he decided to keep his powers hushed up, watching keenly for any other 'gifted' students to observe and manipulate.

[User]
Takeshi Kiski was having an odd day. This was in part, due to the complete lack of sleep he got. The room spinning every now and then when he blinked or closed his eyes did nothing to help how he was feeling that day. And having school just made trying to keep himself awake just that much worse. He was lucky though, they had some more interesting material today in several classes, which allowed him to zone out of his current state and go into his realm of focus, leaving behind the world around him, just as it did him.

He also thought back on *why* he was up the whole night. The answer being simple: He had recieved a strange ass text last night that spoke of a war basically, super powers, and a whole lot of contestents- and he apperently had become one unknowingly. But the main reason was simpler than that- He could move shadows. He could bend, shape, mold, and he thought he might even be able to craft with them. He found this out last night. He just moved a few shadows, but suddenly, he knew he could move more. After all, if he couldn't, why would he get the creepy text? So he tried. And then he got sucked into a combination or reading, pondering, and testing out his newfound "ability." He wasn't doing all **too** bad with it....he thought anyway. But this is suppose to be a war, and he just got his materials for fighting in it. He was undoubtably behind. And that didn't bode well for his chances of winning, or surviving. Takeshi didn't like that. So devoted the night to teaching himself some simple tricks and the like that he could use to get himself by for now as protection. He didn't want to be like Emiya Shirou on his first night after all. Every night after didn't seem all that bad though, except for the ending. The endings always seem to suck for Shirou somehow....yeah. Maybe that *wasn't* the best of ideas to think up of or go with....

**"Yo, Kiski-san, could you help explain these problems for us?"** Another group of students asked for his help. Again. For the nth day in a row. He began to wonder why he bothered with the idiots. *No matter. I might as well just get this over with for now. Then I can read for a while instead.* Nodding to himself slighty, Takeshi went over to help the students, and let the most of the school day pass by relatively uninhibited.

[Assistant]
**"Wow..."** Altzer said aloud, looking down from the roof of the apartment complex. **"Where am I?"**

As he looked down, he couldn't recognize any landmarks to tell him where specifically he was in Ikebukuro. And he was sure this wasn't his apartment complex either. He'd spent maybe 2 hours now? Going rooftop to rooftop, searching for a good way to get home.

_I thought high places were the best for this kind of thing._ He thought.

He had been trying to get home quickly using his photon form, but he'd hit a wall maybe, or someone's mirror, or something; he bounced off it, he'd panicked and gone straight up and he'd gone on top of some apartment building.

Naturally, being the genius he was, he'd decided the best course of action was to go from rooftop to rooftop to hopefully find a way to get home without getting seen.

_I still have to get used to this, I suppose._

It reminded him of the day before, and the first time he'd used his powers...

---
_**The Previous day...**_

**"Wow..."** Altzer said aloud, looking down from the roof of his apartment complex. **"Where am I?"**

He was sure he'd been having breakfast just before. He'd sat down after making some instant ramen to enjoy it, when suddenly, he felt his stomach drop and he somehow ended up on the roof?

Suddenly, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, and he was surprised to see he'd gotten a message? Then he read it.

...He felt that there should've been some X3 in there, or at least some :D.

_I guess there's the XOXO and all,_ He thought, _But still..._

There was also the murder part. But he'd sort of glossed over that because of how unreal the tone of the message had made it sound...

Then he got the other message. This one had a cartoonish face of a girl in it, along with the simple message: <_If you wanna survive, use this!_>.

_I'm sure an XD would've been fine..._ He thought as he looked at the screen. He started to download the 'Colour Tracker' and put his phone away to reassess his situation.

_So, I just got superpowers._ He thought. Several questions arose in his mind, such as: _How do these powers work? What's the limit on these powers? What's the limit on this wish?_ All however, became eclipsed by one other thing. _Wait! My ramen's getting cold and I still have school today don't I!_

With that, Altzer ran for the roof exit as fast as he could and returned to his daily life, or at least for a few more hours...

---
_**Present Day...**_

**"Wow..."** Altzer said aloud, looking down from the roof of another apartment complex. **"Where am I now?"**

As he'd been reminiscing, he'd decided to try his luck and fly around randomly, but he'd just ended up on another apartment complex which looked exactly the same as the one he was just on, and was definitely not his apartment complex.

_Maybe I should try again..._ He thought.

Then he looked down at his watch. _Ahhh! I have to get home already!_ Looking around desperately, he decided to try his luck at ground level.

He looked back down over the side of the apartment complex, and saw that it was home to a deserted alleyway. _Good._ He thought.

Climbing onto the edge, he stood up and jumped off into the air. As he started to fall, he focused and he felt the now familiar feeling of change.

He felt time slow down suddenly, and he saw his vision seemed to disintegrate as his body changed into photon form. He couldn't see while in Photon Form, but he could sense where the Photons that made up his body were going.

When he shifted in and out of his Photon Form, a large amount of his Photons were scattered which he somehow knew made a large flash, but had the added benefit of giving him something similar to echo location.

After school the previous day, he'd spent most of the day practicing controlling his Photon Form. As he did so, he discovered a few curious facts. He could change himself and his clothes into Photon Form as well as what he was holding to a certain extent. How his power judged stuff to be either held or clothing, he didn't know. He could change his bag if he was holding it into Photon Form, but he couldn't change a held item any bigger than a pen.

The feeling of his hypothetical Photon Form Feet touching solid ground snapped him back to reality and he instantly changed back into physical form before he bounced off the ground.

As time returned to normal speed, and his vision reconstructed, he realized he'd made a mistake.

**"Whoops, is this my battle form?"** Looking down, he saw he was wearing his 'battle uniform' which he'd designed and committed to memory the day before. He was wearing some clothes which he though would look cool, and he'd sliced off some extra height to convert the mass into extra muscle for running and climbing.

He'd also made himself look about 12 years old, mainly for cosmetic purposes.

He'd found out the previous day that he could manipulate and change his physical form. He also found that he couldn't do anything more than his mass allowed, as his power clearly followed the laws of physics.

For some reason, he couldn't change the mass of anything that wasn't 'his'. How his power decided ownership he also didn't know.

**"Ahhh, whatever."** He said dismissively. As long as he didn't run into anyone he knew, it would probably be fine to run around in his Battle Form. He did look just like a kid really, and kids didn't get judged too much for wearing weird clothes.

Also, most of the other students were probably at home by now, so he was probably fine unless they were running as late as he was.

Altzer walked to the mouth of the alley he was in, and looked both ways, looking out for anyone who would potentially recognize him.

_Good thing my parents went away for a week._ He thought as he looked. _They'd probably have a lot of questions if I came home like this._

The boy didn't notice, but as he ran into the rushing crowds, a mysterious cloaked figure materialized in the alleyway. The figure raised his hand, and an ornate gothic coffin slowly appeared, as if pulled from the very fabric of reality itself by an invisible hand.

As the coffin materialized, the figure pulled out a modern smartphone, and seemed to study the screen for a few moments.

A few seconds later, the figure put the phone away and proceeded to open the coffin and step inside its dark confines. The coffin closed, and a few seconds it later disappeared the same way it had materialized.


[System]
Age: 24
Magic: Lost Magic: Energy Control Magic; Mayt can control and manipulate various types of energy. He inherited this magic from his family.

Amplify - Amplifies a specified energy, cannot amplify magic.

Reflect - Reverses an energy, such as motion, at half of what it was originally.

Shape Magic - Shapes the caster's magic 'container'
Reinforce Inanimate - Reinforces an inanimate object with the caster's magic, making it more durable and allows it to act as an alternate method of using another energy control spell.
Reinforce Body - Reinforces the caster's body, making it more durable, but can cause serious damage if the energy control spell attached to this isn't maintained properly. Considered "Forbidden", but is not a taboo.

Warp - Redirects an energy, does not need to be actively used.
Magic Level: S
History: Mayt Derren Marris grew up in a small town, its name of no importance, in the middle of virtually nowhere. In his hometown, he had grown to know almost half a dozen different parents. He was taken away from his birth parents at age 10, as they were both incapable of properly taking care of a child. His second set of parents were nice, but his distrustful tendencies, and getting new parents just before his teen years, he blocked them out. They fed him, clothed him, and took him to school, that was all that was important about them to Mayt. They weren't his birth parents, he didn't like them. They gave him to the local orphanage the first time he drew a knife on them, which he had done in an attempt to prove that, despite his somewhat meek frame, he could be a powerful fighter. He didn't have to be a bookworm. By this time he was 14

At age sixteen, Mayt was adopted by, as he likes to put it, "Parent Wannabees". His parents were sort of doing a trial-run on adopting a child so that they had some idea what to expect. They didn't expect a child distrustful of them to the point of learning how to cook and handle himself while not getting in the way. Mayt turned into a child who simply lived in the same house and breathed the same air. He had gotten a part-time job, bought his own food, did his own laundry, and cleaned his room. Despite his seemingly good-nature in doing this, he acted very sour, and often was caught by Truancy Officers, and managed to barely pass his classes. Not caring about the future, the month he was allowed to leave his parents house as a legal adult, he did, setting out into the world. He wondered at first, choosing to go town to town on foot, enjoying the walk, and eventually starting to enjoy being on the road, where he could think.

By his twenty first birthday, he had rented an apartment in a small city, and has chosen to stay there for a while. He needed money and odd-jobs while traveling wasn't cutting it. On his birthday, he received a package from his birth parents. At first Mayt was skeptical of the package. He hadn't known his parents since he was a child, yet they knew where he was setting up temporary residence? Once he had gotten over this, he opened the package to reveal something stranger still, a Katana. They not only had known where he lived, but had known he had been practicing, off and on, different sword skills. Mostly due to the fact that they interested him, and he couldn't understand how they had known. He still kept the weapon, and he started to train more with it, eventually finding somebody of teach him in a more official manner. At this point, he has some skill with the weapon, but he is far from professional.

Around twenty three, he started to realize he had magic, he just had never noticed it. He discovered this when practicing with the gift sword, and he had accidentally burnt the blade on a hot day, leaving char on it. Despite how often he tries to clean it, the blade never seems to not have that char from his first real use of magic, and ever since he's been practicing to the best of his ability. He does it best through his weapon, but he can do it when not wielding his weapon.

Personality: Loner, vocal in his opinions, and stubborn.
Team Members: None
Three Strengths:
1. Good Cook, Mayt, having lived on his own for a long time, has learned how to cook pretty well, without any reliance on magic or supernatural abilities.
2. Loyal, Mayt's trust isn't the easiest to gain, but it's not difficult either. And when his trust is gained, he is quite the loyal friend, risking bodily harm to protect those close if neccessary.
3. Swordsman, Mayt is somewhat skilled at using his Katana, and he can use his magic through it.
Three Weaknesses:
1. Loner, Mayt prefers to work on his own as he has all his life, which makes it difficult for him to work in a group and follow a plan.
2. Anarchist, Mayt often outright disobeys orders simply because they were given. He doesn't take this to an extreme, but the wrong choice at the wrong time can be devastating.
3. Lost Magic, Mayt's magic is a form of lost magic, meaning it is more powerful than most magics, but also is more dangerous for him to use.
Greatest Love: Doesn't really have one.
Motivation: To find where he belongs.
Appearance: Mayt stands at 5'11" tall, and typically wears simple clothing that's close-fitting but not very restrictive. No real protection. When he's traveling, he carries a large backpack filled with his stuff, and his Katana is kept at his side. He has light skin, and medium-dark brown hair that he keeps trimmed at a little under an inch long. His eyes are green, and he's starting to grow a little bit of a mustache. The scabbard for his sword is simple leather, unadorned, but slightly charred as well.
Additional Details: Mother now lives in Magnolia Town. Maximum potential unknown, and it was recently discovered he has a great deal of knowledge about his magic stored away in his head via archive magic.

[User]
Karn || Outside the Grand Magic Games Stadium
Yashia@Caits@CirusArvennicus

Karn glanced toward the genderbent Pen as she walked up to them and spoke to him directly. Asking the question he knew would eventually be said. Though it did take long enough. He really was not in the mood for this, but he also knew there was little to avoid it. Glancing up, he allowed the rain to hit against his face, uncaring if he got soaked with rain water. The rain felt nice and calming, despite how many find it depressing and gloomy. It had a nice smell. Yet even in this world, the rain smelled different in a way. Blonde hair sticking to his face, he lightly brushed a few strands away from his emerald gaze that looked to her in a calm emotionless serious look. He glanced toward Amaya for a moment.

"Apologies, seems they finally want to question me. I'd much prefer the drink though." he mused before looming closer to the red head. Looking up at her from his short position as he stared at her before looking her up and down. Lips ever so slightly tightening together before he raised his hands and promptly gripped the two orbs on her chest. "This is not fair." he stated. Twitching as he glanced to his left to see Pen just burst out laughing hysterically.

"Holy shit! Look at that! Guess I make a pretty hot chick! Just look at that rack and ass! Guess in no matter the world, I still rock it!" The fake Pen laughed loudly, Karn giving a narrowed look and dropping his hands. "Awe... but you... you get a dick. Looks like you can never be a real girl in either world Little Robot!" he laughed.

Karn glared toward him but didn't say anything. Waiting for the genderbent Pen to react and probably slap him, freak out, stand there shocked, or pound him into the ground. It's not like he didn't expect those sorts of reactions when he did that. Just that he didn't give a crap about the consequences at that point. Maybe he almost wanted to cause a ruckus just so he could be pounded to the ground. In order to wake up from the nightmare. Even though that was just soundless hope when reality was right there punching him in the face.

Taking a deep breath, he brushed himself off and crossed his arms over his chest, standing straight and tall as he looked at them. "I am Karn. I am Karnrad V. Skywalker. Sergeant Major of Phoenix Wing. Specialty, technician and mechanics. Third in Command. Pleasant to meet you." she answered, emerald gaze looking at them before at the sky then them again.

"I am the soul reason Karn of Earthland is not dead right now and you didn't find a corpse in his bedroom. His state of spirit posed weak against mine and I assumed control in a natural flow. He's still in here, but it's taking concentration to not completely overpower him and wipe him out from existence." he explained before taking a deep breath.

"There. Satisfied. Or do you want more grizzly details?" she said, voice a eerie calm as she looked at the Earthlanders.

[Assistant]
Jacob Conners -- Magic GamesIt didn't take long for jacob to get out of the tunnels below the old stadium, though he still chided himself on losing so much time down there. When he finally got out of the tunnels there was only twenty minutes left, at most. Jacob wasted no time transforming into a bird and taking off, flying to the other places marked with X's on his map. The first one, no matter how much he looked, didn't have any lacrima anywhere, though he saw where it might've been. The one after provided the same result, and at that point Jacob was starting to get nervous. He had spent a lot of time exploring these to places and they provided nothing towards him winning the event, and he was running out of time at this point.

He checked the last spot on his map, figuring that one had to have a lacrima, and he transformed back into his hawk form, beginning to get tired from the constant transformations and flight and running. Fortunately, before long, he was where the second to last spot on his map indicated. It was an abandoned building of some sort. Jacob couldn't figure out exactly what the purpose for it had been, but it didn't matter now. He pushed his way through the door and looked around. The room seemed to be some kind of reception room, or maybe it had been a dollar store? There weren't any shelves, but the counter didn't look like one you'd see in, say, a hotel. Sitting behind a glass pane was an orange lacrima, lighting up the room.

Jacob grinned, thinking this would be an easy smash-and-grab, "Grand Animal Soul:Ape!" Nothing happened. He growled, and glared at the orange lacrima, figuring it must be what was blocking his magic. Taking a breath to calm down, he moved up to the desk, remaining in his normal ol' human form. Checking for hidden buttons and such, he found nothing that might free the lacrima. Sighing, he walked conceded to exploring the structure for the way to get to lacrima. He was getting anxious as to his lack of time when he finally found the hidden door above the lacrima that allowed him to finally retrieve it. Sighing, he stuffed it in his pack with the other eight lacrima he had, before beginning to head back out of the building, muttering about how little time he had left to deal with distractions and problems. Such as a lacrima stopping him from using his magic, or places on his map having absolutely nothing of value.

[User]
Yashia@Caits@Silver Fox
"Gamble"
These two both seemed to have their own problems to deal with, judging by Amaya's wanting to help Karn with his problems. Yet could her words be true just like that? The past was a hard thing to escape, mostly with what one has done. Yet they both took his directions as a chance to invite him along which made him smile but shake his head. "I shouldn't, I have things I should get done before the games finish. I appreciate the offer though." Gamble said before Amaya pointed out fellow guild members approaching, sure enough they did but what happened next was just confusing to Gamble. First the guild members questioned Karn about not being Karn? Karn just straight up groped the female which caused Gamble to be a bit startled before he started talking about a bunch of stuff. Gamble who was utterly lost looked at Amaya for an answer to the mans sudden weird behavior. Phoenix Wing was certainly a strange guild, hell their problems might even top his or whatever this was.

Zephyr Hardt
"Alright I can do that." Zephyr said ignoring her futile struggling, if she wanted to be stubborn then fine by him. He could be stubborn as hell too and unlike her, he had the energy for it. So when she asked why the hell he was doing it, he looked down at her before looking up. "Because I care for one thing, and for another... I would be no better than a dark mage if I just let you continue on like that. I wouldn't be able to call myself a proud member of Dragon Fang if I just let you work yourself to death, when just maybe I can change that mindset. So please. Just relax and tell me where he is." Zephyr asked looking down at her with a pleading look in his eyes. He really just wanted her to relax and not work herself to death, sure she was sad but this was not the answer for the problem.

[Assistant] Mayt Marris -- Crocus Streets Mayt chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck as Wes talked, looking a bit nervous. "Less I have amnesia, more magic memory manipulation." He'd say with a little bit of a smile, before dropping his hand back down into his coat pocket, and listening to the rest of Wes' speel. "Who would be best to help? Well, uhm… I know Penny, Sasha, Lazarus, and Trinity were all in Edolas as well from the conversation I had with Sasha afterwards. Oh, and Jarvis, of course. I have no idea who would be best to fight him though, other than maybe Lazarus due to his, uh, light based attacks." The energy mage would shrug here, clearly having trouble focusing his thoughts on Edolas down to a few coherent ones. "Overall, I'm sure you could find some people willing to help. Phoenix Wing has gotten a lost of new members lately, and I'm sure we'd be willing to help, and there are also a few other light guilds around due to the magic games."


[System]
"Don't worry, you just leave things to your Big Sis Rosie!"
Age
21

Gender
Female

Physical Description
Standing just shy of five feet eight inches, Rosie is a rather imposing woman physically. Her long, burgundy hair is often worn loose in her natural waves, with a set of bangs cut just above her eyes. Her skin is on the fairer side, albiet she sports several nicks on her knees and a few scrapes here and there from the days of her youth. Her outfits tend to be on the simpler, mature side, as she finds herself shying away from anything too girly anymore. Any set of clothes is universally accompanied by her small, pearl earrings, pink lip gloss, and heels--legends say she can even run in them.

Personality
Rosie likes to think of herself as an older, mature woman, but it's obvious she's just come off the cusp of her maidenhood. Bubbly and eternally cheerful, for Rosie it's nearly impossible for her to see the downside to anything. Always helpful and eager to please, she tends to go out of her way to help her younger coworkers. Her work ethic is impeccable, as she believes that a job isn't worth doing unless you give it a hundred and ten percent. She tries to be attentive and caring, though sometimes she tends to miss the point and goes off her own assumptions. Sarcasm is a foreign language to her, and she is quick to jump to conclusions. She means well, she just gets much too excited.

Likes & Dislikes
(♥) Flowers and nature in general
(♥) Organization and cleanliness; everything has a place!
(♥) Working hard
(♥) Tea
(♥) The taste of cherries

(X) Sarcasm. She just...doesn't get it.
(X) Rainy days. The skies look so sad...
(X) Bug of any type and size will cause her to completely freak out and panic
(X) Messiness. She will immediately try to clean if she sees anything out of place
(X) Ghosts

Biography
Born the youngest of three siblings, Rosie has always been a rather hyperactive child. From school to her home life, the girl has always been bouncing off the walls, her parents finding it hopeless to curb her and only trying to point her in the right direction in hopes she could take that energy and put it towards something positive. Eventually some of that energy was controlled better as she got older, but she painstakingly took her parents' guidance as 'put all your energy into what you're doing'. Mind you, it resulted in some excellent grades and a surprisingly decent track record in middle school, but her one-track mind often resulted in her neglecting other things.

Her relationship with her family improved, and one by one her siblings decided to leave home. Rosie herself decided to go to university to get a degree, living in a modest apartment while she studied. As some time passed, however, her parents' financial troubles came to light. Her oldest sister moved back home in order to help them out, but encouraged her sisters to try to help. Rosie decided to put her education on hold, giving back the money for her last year as well as most of her savings, and got to job hunting. She figured if she could work and save enough, she could pay for her last year herself.

The mail service can hopefully solve her financial woes, even if just temporarily.

Relationships
TBD

Other
Her theme.

[User]
The big day that was gonna change her life had finally arisen. With a backpack and her letter with the info and adress. Emi in her good mood was strolling down the wobbly path as she made her way towards the post office. At first she had thought it would be on quite a remote place but it was not to her surprise. She had to walk the last way just to get to the building and that was a long way already. It had become clear to her that they probably did not need any vast roads to deliver the post. Maybe they did have a big airfield for their bikes. Anyhow she was excited.

The building quickly came into view revealing the old and unkept look of the putside of the building. Emi stopped for a moment and took a quick gulp. It felt kind of scary to get so close to the building. It didn't seem habited at all, was this even the right building?

The path stopped at the front door of the building. Emi shakingly stepped in front of the door and with a trembling hand knocked on the front door. No reaction. Emi waited for somewhat longer and knocked again but was let down with another no reply. Emi did not have the heroic side to look in through the window and decided to simply wait for a while. They might not have opened yet and there did not seem to be any other building nearby.

As time went by other people joined Emi in her waiting game. Apparently they would be applying for the post delivery job as well. Emi introduced herself to everyone and simply chatted for a while as they waited.

Suddenly the front door opened making Emi release a terrified shreek as she was right next to it. She stepped back and eagerly peered into the darkness. There did not appear to be anyone in the building but she was sure she saw something move. Only a second later a creme colored figure dashed out making Emi shreek even more as she moved one of her feet off of the ground in reaction. She spun and fell onto her butt into the flowers at the side of the path. In frustration she swung her arms up amd down for a moment as she visibly pouted.

"I'm so done with today!"

But as soon as Emi spotted the dog running and frolicking around outside in the flowers her entire mood cheered up. In a bliss she motioned towards the dog for a hug as she thought it was super duper cute. Emi stood back up again and ran after the dog in attempt to pet and hug it forever. They would be living happily on the flower fields till the end of time.

"Doggggyyy!"

[Assistant]
"The workplace should be right around.. Whoa.."

Calum halted at the sight before him, lowering the missive he was reading. Well-tended flora of varying ilk and vivid colors pervaded the green fields. Atop the inclined path lied a rather crude shack, which appeared to embrace the very nature it stood on. If it wasn't for the smoke emitting from its chimney, it would be easy to assume that it was abandoned. Still, everything about it felt... natural. The morning breeze that he felt brush past his being only complemented the invigorating vibes as he walked up the path towards his destination. It was going to be his very first job; the feeling of uneasiness inching on him like a bug. Nevertheless, it was one that he had decided on.

A chance for fateful encounters. To soar through the skies. To find one's own happiness through witnessing another's smile. A simplistic, yet wholesome dream for some, even if considered childish by others.

Arriving at the end of the walkway, Cal finds a young woman; a damsel possessing ashen hair and looking the same age as him. Their eyes met not too long after, and thus a greeting was inevitable. "Good morning to you, miss! I, uh.. assume you're here for the same reason as I am?" The two made light conversation, before more figures came one after another. And by each one arriving, he couldn't help but feel a slight sense of discomfort. He was honestly expecting a more gender-equal ensemble, and this was quite the surprise.

"Erm.. I suppose introductions are in order, huh? Alright then, I'll start! Name's Calum. Calum Pierrepont. Folks call me 'Cal', so feel free to do so as well. Here's to hoping we all get accepted, yeah?"

The exchange picked up and continued from there, up until a certain point. The slight creaking of the door made the ashen-haired Emi shriek by surprise, and the others in tandem. "Y-you're joking.. right? T-the house can't possibly be haunted.." The sole male uttered with shaky breaths, a tad nervous when Emi slowly peered into the darkness.

And, like a scene from a horror flick, it happened.

"UWAAAH!" A figure bound from the doorway, causing his body to jerk backwards by instinct. His precious brown hat parted from his head and he almost lost his footing, like Emi just did. His wide-eyed gaze was glued to the culprit; a dog. Inconsiderate to the people it had just frightened, the creme-colored furball ran towards the greenery and frolicked about. His heart was beating fast, his right palm planted on his chest and he was struggling to catch his breath.

"Man.. Not.. a big fan of.. jumpscares.. Hah.. Little fella almost gave me a heart attack! Ahaha.. Hahahahaha!" Cal burst out laughing, realizing that he likely screamed the loudest of them all; the man among the women. He bent down to pick up his fallen hat, returning it to where it once was. "Well, that was embarrassing! Let's just move on and forget that ever happened?"

He tried his best to save himself from that embarrassment. He really did.

[User]
---

Southmere EMS Office
Morning

---

Rosemarie Neldelstein rolled her eyes at how quick the sole male of the group was quick to get spooked by the old post office. There were few things that scared her, but she would never imagine anyone being nervous at the sight of a building that was worn but obviously not condemned.

"Wow. You're so brave." She uttered sarcastically, clearly unimpressed by the boy.

The blonde-haired girl felt her impatience get the better of her as she pushed her fingers against the door, pushing it all the way open as she hoped to see some actual adults at work at the homely-looking post office. The constant chattering of the boy wasn't really much of interest to her, especially now he was trying to earn some brownie points by trying to write off the appearance of the dog as catching him off guard and that everyone should "move on". As far as Marie was concerned she had already moved on because she didn't care in the first place.

"Whatever." She managed as she walked into the building before calling out to whoever was inside. "I hope I'm not early!"

[Assistant]
---

Southmere EMS Office
Interacting with Cal (@Althiel)

---

Summer yawned, arms stretching over her head after a long day of work. It was time for her to go home, make some hot chocolate, and snuggle into her bed with her most fluffy blanket. Then the slasher movie marathon would commence!

 Getting into her bubble car, she floated away from the lab. She had to go pick up Molly and Wobbles from their pre-school, the best hamster training school in all the land. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't been paying attention, and her bubble floated right into a pickle! Summer began to fall, the world growing big around her. It was sorta peaceful really, no noise but the horse peckers. Nearing the ground, she looked up at a giant blue gummy worm, with the face of her...grandpa?

 Summer's eyes flew open, the bright sunlight causing her to wince. Pushing off her bed, she noted to not ever drink odd juice from the cabinets again. That dream had been wierd, even for her. She smiled at the note on her nightstand, reminding her that today was finally the day for her adventure to begin again. The Erusian Mail Service! Connecting the island to the rest of the world, one delivery at a time! She couldn't wait to finally arrive there, and hopefully get accepted.

 Luckily for her late late self, she had already picked out an outfit last night, one that reflected her excitement. Brown boots, patterned tights, and a cute cream top. Grabbing a slightly burnt bit if toast, she was all ready to go. Pointing a finger in the air, she marched through the door.

 "Onwards!"

 The walk to the post office was short and fairly uneventful. Arriving there, she noticed that quite a few others had already arrived. Walking up to the largish group, she introduced herself with a smile.

 "Dia duit! My name's Samarah, though I'd much rather Summer, if you don't mind. Samarah's very formal sounding, not much my favorite sound. I guess you're all applying too? I'm so glad! Though, there's mostly girls here, no? That's good too! Yay, I'm so excited!" She continued her chatter with a few of the others, not noticing the open door until she heard Cal's scream of terror. She whipped around, expecting to find some sort of serial killer dude, or something big, buff, and scary. What she didn't expect was for a dog to happily run out the doors, running over to the flower field. She let out a sigh, relieved that she would be living for another day.

 "Jeez, don't scream like that, haha...I thought you were getting attacked or something!" She kept a teasing smile on her face, just to make sure he knew she wasn't trying to make fun of him.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Appearance:
 Height: 5'5"
 Build: Slender
 Hair: Ash blond (light brown)
 Eyes: Green
 Clothing: His attire consists of a white, long-sleeved shirt underneath a black, over-sized hoodie with a pair of black gloves. Additionally, he wears a pair of dark green pants with black combat boots.
Skillset: He is experienced with the functionality of machines, due to his upbringing, and has an adept knowledge of science. He is also talented at picking locks and has a decent amount of knowledge in medicine. Though he is not the strongest, he is fairly nimble.
Weapon(s): .45 Auto Pistol & Combat Knife
Personality: Though quiet when with strangers, he is quite the talkative person when given the time to become adjusted to another's presence. Armed with a sarcastic personality, as well as an offhanded tendency to snap at people, he does have an odd sense of obligation for other people's safety and well-being, even if they have done him wrong before. He also has the habit of hiding things from people, fearing the consequences he may have to face if he were to tell them. As for himself, he could be considered rather unconcerned and reckless.
Biography: He grew up in the same town as Jace, sequestered in the marshlands of southern Georgia. His father worked as a mechanic there, which included supplying the town with purified water. When the machine began to break down gradually, though, rations had to be issued, which caused the family to become unpopular when there was not enough for everyone to share. His mother died when he was young when there was a "freak accident," and afterwards, that only gave the other townspeople more reason to ostracize the family--if the man could not be trusted to keep his own family alive, then how could he be trusted to keep an entire town alive? When he was sixteen, he fell ill from radiation poisoning, but recovered; after this close call with death, he decided to begin his research on a long-term solution for the water issue, studying Project Purity and more cases of a G.E.C.K. working miracles. About two years after, he and his closest friend, Jace, set out on their journey to search through Vaults until they discovered one.

[User]
"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea," Basil agreed. Though there weren't many people out on the streets, the few who were had eyed them suspiciously. Then again, they probably did that with every stranger.

 Leith reluctantly took the proffered chair, though his back immediately thanked him for the relief. He sighed heavily, tipping back just slightly in it as he relaxed. "Damn, I'm getting old."
 Especially too old to deal with kids' relationship issues. I wonder if it'd be far-fetched for me to try dating again...a little bit of moisturizing cream, some cologne, and I'd look a hundred and twenty again, I bet.

[Assistant]
Raider finished taking the armor off before chucking it at a nearby trashcan. He was actually thankful to get rid of the heavy piece of metal, but he'd gotten so used to wearing it, it was almost like a part of him now and he felt too light. He wore a shirt underneath that was so severely stained with dirt, sweat, and blood that you couldn't even tell it used to be white.
 "Remind me to get it on the way out if I can. I need some sort of protection out there and that hunk of metal has probably saved my life more times than I can count." And he didn't have any money to buy any leather armor of metal armor for that matter. He might try to steal some before they left, if an opportunity presented itself.

 After Kaye took a seat, she quickly took the beer and almost drank from it, but hesitated. She stared down into the contents of the glass as if it was acid. Leith had planted the seed of doubt and now she was worried that he was indeed a psychopath.
 "It's beer," Jace said, eyeing her intently. "You know, alcohol." He took a drink of his own beer before something clicked in his mind. "Do you think I poisoned it?"
 She blushed severely and shook her head a little too quickly. "No! I just...usually drink whiskey."
 He could tell she was lying through her teeth and sat his own drink down with a loud thud. Without hesitating, he grabbed hold of the two beers and took a drink from each glass before setting them down in front of them once more, eyebrow raised. "Good now?"
 She looked down at the table and slowly took a drink of the beer feeling a bit ashamed.

[User]
"Okay. Just don't let me forget to not let you forget," Basil replied, heading off again towards the clinic. They should be close now.

 "What about germs?" Leith inquired. He pushed the beer bottle back with his pinky. Perhaps it wasn't such a great idea to deliberately get on Jace's nerves, but eh. He'd done worse with his life.

[Assistant]
Raider stared at him oddly, not seeing how that made any logical sense, but didn't comment on it. He tensed when he saw the doctor's sign looming in the distance and almost turned to walk the other way. The doctor was almost as unpleasant as his time in the raiding group had been, because in the group their doctoring methods had been near torturous. They got immense pleasure out of ripping bullets and cutting off limbs of those unfortunate to get injured in battle.
 He remembered an incident he had a little over a year ago. During battle, he had been shoved against the wall and had his side ripped open by a rusty nail protruding through one of the boards. With no painkillers to alleviate the pain and no stimpaks to heal it, they cleaned out the deep wound using a bottle of whiskey and a dirty cloth to dig into the wound and 'clean' it. After that, they used a needle that had been used in one of the syringes used for psycho and wire used from an old piano. The stitches had hurt worse being put in than it was nearly ripping his intestines out.
 His entire body froze just outside the doc's door and he hadn't even realized he was shaking his head. "You know, I'm actually good. I think I'll stay out here and wait for you."

 Kaye shot a glare in Leith's direction and wanted to berate him for egging him on. Her look screamed 'what the hell happened to not taunting the psychopath?'
 Jace glared at him in rising annoyance. "You're a ghoul. Your entire face is a germ." He tipped back the rest of his bottle and slammed it on the table before reaching over for Leith's own. "If you don't want it, then it just means more for me."

[User]
Basil paused, hand nearly on the door's handle, and said, "But you need to get that wound looked over. If you're really concerned about money, then I have enough." He then noticed the boy's expression; he looked panicked, almost. Well, he supposed that was normal. No one really liked having to see the doctor. "He's not going to hurt you, you know. That'd defeat the purpose of being a doctor, after all. If he looks like he's going to harvest your kidney or something, we'll come right back out, okay?"

 "Ouch, that one-liner was almost clever," Leith said, rolling his eyes. He shrugged at Kaye, draping one arm over the back of the chair.

[Assistant]
"You haven't been to the doctors that I have..." Raider mumbled, mostly to himself. With much difficulty, he forced himself to walk towards the door. His legs felt heavier than lead with each step, but managed to walk through the threshold. As soon as they were inside, he took one look around and almost darted out the door once more, but ran directly in Basil, startling him even more.

 Jace scowled angrily at Leith and took a drink of his beer. "You know what? You broke our contract, so if you're not careful I'll kick your ass and say to hell with what I said earlier. A deal is a deal and you cheated me. Even turned down a free drink that was given to you, you ugly bastard."
 "He does have a point, you know. Those are fight words, turning down someone's offer of a drink." Kaye smirked, taking a drink of her own beer. "If you were going to offer second rounds, can I have Leith's?"
 He chuckled despite himself. Thankfully his sole mission right now was to get roaring drunk to forget what had happened earlier and at this rate, he was definitely going to succeed. "I like your style, I'll give you that." He then grew somber and narrowed his eyes in Leith's direction, all humor gone. "So what is your angle? I've never seen no ghoul who didn't drink before, so you must have a hidden agenda on agreeing to come with me."

[User]
Basil winced when he ran directly into him, but grabbed him gently by the shoulders and urged, "Look, you have to see him. I mean, you let me actually remove the bullet and I'm not even licensed! All that he's going to do is give it a look-over and give you some more medication to dull the pain. It won't be that bad, I swear."

 Leith sighed, and replied, "Look, the only thing that has an effect on me is a sickeningly sweet combination of Jet and, for whatever reason, Sugar Bombs. After you come to realize that, you find little reason to waste your time with alcohol." He passed the drink over to Kaye. "But other than that, I've just never been much of a drinking man. Someone would have been damn ashamed of me if I resorted to that to forget about my problems, rather than confront and resolve them." He looked pointedly at Jace.

[Assistant]
"Yeah, and if I hadn't allowed you to take it out then I would be dead," Raider protested. "As long as he doesn't perform anything else on me, then...I guess." He sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. With a deep breath, he turned back around and started walking further into the building.

 Jace made a tight fist in a poor attempt to suppress his rising anger. "Are you insulting me? Because I'm pretty sure you just insulted me." He held up a couple of fingers to signal to the bartender. Once he noticed them, he gave a slight no of his head and set to work to popping off the caps of the beers. When he brought them over, Jace didn't even look in his direction as he grabbed his beer and took a sip of it. "You can deal with your problems anyway you like and I will do the same. I'm confronting my problems right now and quite frankly, this is a good resolution for them as well. If you don't like it, then you can get out and leave us be in peace. I didn't invite you to tag along, anyways."

[User]
Basil smiled, relieved, and the two of them entered the clinic; it was small, with two cots in the far back of the main room. On one, there was an old man who leaned against the headrest, a book in his hands and an IV hooked up to one arm, but the other was empty. At a desk, there was a middle-aged man in a white coat that was lightly stained with blood, who was so focused on writing on his clipboard that he didn't even notice them arrive.
 Clearing his throat nervously, Basil said, "Excuse me, sir?"
 Head shooting up in surprise, the doctor made a little sound from somewhere deep in his throat, dropping his pen in the process. It clattered noisily onto the floor. But then he smiled and said, "Ah, yes, hello. I hope that there is nothing too dire, but how can I help you two boys today?"

 Leith lifted a hand to his chest, dramatically feigning offense. "And here I thought we were just becoming friends. Obviously, I was mistaken." He then smirked. "But no, you're not dealing with your problems, kid. Besides, who even drinks beer when they want to forget? There's barely any alcohol in the damn things. It's mostly just yeast. Yeast that is over two centuries old, at that." If he'd had a nose, he'd be wrinkling it in disgust. "Nasty and harmful beverages aside, how about you at least try talking about whatever happened with us? Maybe we could help you out."

[Assistant]
The very moment Raider zeroed in on the doctor, his eyes went straight to the lab coat and he stared at the blood intensely. As the doctor spoke, he barely even registered he'd spoken at all and once he finally made it up to look at his eyes, there was an expectant look in them. Had he asked him something? "Umm...I was shot and my...my friend here," could he call him friend? "he took the bullet out for me, but thinks it might infect. I think I'm okay, though, so there's really no need..." before he finished his sentence, he tried backing away.

 And there it was. The hidden intent of their reasons behind coming. Was it so much to ask for to have someone who just wanted to spend time with him instead of wanting something from him all the time?! "And here I stupidly thought someone might actually want to spend some quality time with me," he said angrily. "Why don't you keep your non-nose out of other people's business and leave me the hell alone." He then stood up, preparing to leave. "You're all the same! Pretending like you give a shit when all you want is to take advantage of a situation. I have enough problems on my hands and you're not one of them." He paused to rethink that last statement, knowing it made no sense.
 "Jace-"
 "I know!" He rubbed at his head furiously. "Don't try correcting me."
 Kaye sighed. "Look, maybe it isn't any of our business, alright? But you were about to shoot the guy who claimed to love not even twenty-four hours ago!"
 "Would you keep your voice down?" Jace scowled.
 "My point is, if you don't get your head out of your ass then you're going to lose him, you idiot."
 He laughed with no humor and shook his head in disbelief as he picked up the beer. With a few large gulps, he polished of the bottle and gently sat it the table. "I've already lost him, so don't worry about it, sweetheart."


[System]
Party Roster
Hundred Kira - @Tenish the Mighty - Docking Bay Control Room - Active
Sevyn Spades - @TTwoThumbsUp - Docking Bay Control Room - Inactive
Marga - @Bonjour xx - Docking Bay Control Room - Active
Farvis Kren - @TheUnknowable - Docking Bay Access Corridor - Inactive
Mez - @Kalas - Docking Bay Access Corridor - Inactive
Simon Brewer - @DJAtomika - Docking Bay Control Room - Active
James "JR" Rourke - @TheMadAsshatter - Retired

Red hatched areas are currently exposed to space and inaccessible for characters not in full EVA gear.

Character Sheet
Race: Species or sub-species. No defined limits here so feel free to pick any species appearing in popular culture or just make up your own. If your race has any special inherent abilities please be sure to list them below.

Appearance: A basic description of the character's overall appearance and common attire, or a photo reference if possible.

Personality: Simple psychological profile for your character, giving details of their main motivations and outlook on life.

Skills: An outline of the training and abilities of the character. These come in five levels of proficiency: Amateur, Proficient, Experienced, Skilled, Expert. I'd recommend limiting the character to a maximum of five skills with two class or profession skills, two general skills and one combat skill. For example a Mechanic might have Expert Engineering and Expert Mechanics as class skills, Skilled Driver and Experienced Salesman as general skills and Proficient Brawler as a combat skill.

Non-standard Abilities: This section is for unique abilities for the character's species, as well as any personal abilities they may have. I'd recommend an absolute maximum of three of these, but would counsel for only one or two in most cases.

Equipment: Here you should give details of the main pieces of equipment the character usually carries with them when going on a high-risk mission. I'd recommend taking one or two weapons, at least one piece of class or profession-specific equipment, a set of armour or protective clothing, some form of communications gear and any utility or survival gear you feel would be appropriate.

Bio: A brief (two or three paragraph) history of the character detailing where they're from, their current life circumstances and their reason for being included on the mission.

Quote: An example of something the character is likely to say, giving an insight into their personality and general life attitude.

[User]
"There's a lever inside the airlock, on the upper left side of the outer hatch. Yank it down and the umbilical will deploy. You can fine tune it using the monitor just below the lever and the controls beside it. Won't be needing a perfect lock, just one good enough to hold pressure until you get the party aboard." @SimplyJohn

"Perfect." Mez replied. He moved to spring into action but the droids' change of movement caught his eye. "Looks like time's about to run out." He stated before moving back into rear bay. Quickly scouring the ship, his eyes fell on a equipment locker towards the end of the bay. He'd need a comm-link headset to be able to communicate with the Gygan outside. Mez crossed the bay in less that five strides and wrenched open the locker door. The following smirk on his face meant he'd found what he was looking for; a powerful shortwave comm-link headset. All he needed now was to cannibalize it for the transmitter and insert it into one of the many sub-ports of his Direct Neural Interface. He could use his body to amplify the transmission range and communicate with Hundred.

Before he'd finished thinking of what he wanted to do, Mez was already walking towards the airlock, the transmitter was now sending out radio waves at 200% more power which allowed the waves to be able to cut through space. "Hundred, do you copy? Come in, Hundred. I am going to release the shuttle's umbilical early using the manual override. I need you to ensure a positive lock on with the Lone Star, nothing perfect but enough to pressurize the walkway. We have less than 5 minutes ETA on an asteroid shower which'll mean mission failure if we don't do this now."

Mez punched the control panel of the airlock, pressurizing the small room. It took a few seconds but far longer than it needed. Once he was inside, he followed the Pilot's direction. True to his word, the lever was there. Mez pulled it which activated a series of loud clunks and a hissing sound. 'The umbilical must be moving.' He quickly turned his gaze to the monitor and keyed in a few simple commands via the control pad. Like everything else on board the shuttle, the computer systems proved rudimentary. So Mez only had to alter a few sub-routines in order to exact the optimum speed efficiency for the extending walkway.

[Assistant]
Hundred's frown had never left. It certainly didn't change when the ships macrobot accompaniment swarmed out of the arresting airlock. With a thought she impelled the Dust further into the airlocks mechanisms. Ah. There was the problem. She should have checked first. Her comm crackled. She snarled at the pilots castigation. He was right to berate her. She had not performed as she had tacitly implied.

Hundred took a moment in the flurry of activity around her person. She examined the Star bots' movement patterns. They may have been upkeep drones, trapped in a process loop, unable to perform their scheduled maintenance due to the faulty door mechanism. No, not faulty, sabotaged. The bots surrounded her, the emitters on their cutting lasers adjusting. Her frown deepened even further. Hostile then. She was more interested in the one maneuvering over to her micro-channel. They had the wherewithal to target her Dust. Curious. Her comm was filled with the beam of another of her mission mates. The Visipian. Hundred did not like the Visipians. The Consortium did not like them either, but she didn't see that as much of a point in their favor. They were dogmatic, fascistic, too much like the Consortium for comfort. But their methods were barbarous. Conquest. War. Wasteful. But most damning of all, they possessed technologies that Gyges had yet to replicate. Divine Energy. A superstitious designation. A weak grip upon the fire whose secrets they alone had discovered. But he had given her a gift. A goal. Redemption. Five minutes.

"It will be done in one." Hundred raised her arms, fingers flickering tactile commands. Dust around her compacted and formed, layer upon layer of tightly packed Fullerenes wrapped around each other, growing, hardening, sharpening. From Dust to dagger, little black spikes of graphene, bristling around her in a satellite sphere. She looked around herself at the busy little bots. So large, so few, so primitive. Her hand waved dismissively. Her teeth bared. It was almost a smile. Punching into the closest hostile robots, the spikes split upon intentional faults, fragmenting into flechettes, shredding the interiors of the bots trying to unseat her footing. Striding forwards a second wave of spikes formed to deal with the rest of the offensive constructs. She flexed her right hand, just above her open palm another longer, leaner blade began to form the constructing edge of it's black blade radiating a sharp golden glow. She stepped over the half-melted lip of the plating she was standing on, moving back towards the airlock. Her other hand waved dismissively again, the second set of spikes shot forth to enforce her lethal contempt for the machines that had lost her face.

It would be done in the next 47 seconds. She was keeping count.

[User]
The moment the tiny little bots began firing their lasers, Sevyn fired into the swarm, jumping from target to target. She felt the shuttle beneath her inching every slowly forward as it clumsily tried to align itself with the open airlock. She considered the idea of throwing one of her EMP grenades into the two meter hole, a relatively easy target, but deemed it too risky once the shuttle started extending its umbilical tube.

Once the tube started moving, Sevyn moved herself to its lip, still firing at the droids as the silent thump, thump, thump of her magnetic boots causing a dull reverb throughout the umbilical.

Meanwhile Jemini tried to make herself useful by calculating the trajectory of the tube and sending the necessary minor adjustments needed to align it with the Lone Star to the shuttle pilot while she took shots at the stationary droids. She chirped and whirred angrily, even beeping once to express her extreme displeasure at having to work with the current shuttle pilot, though the droid couldn't place a value on either Sevyn's or the less-than-adequate shuttle pilot's maneuvering, seeing as how both were equally annoying.

Sevyn was edging out on top though, considering she was standing at the lip of tube, ready to snap herself into the tube right before it would attach to the Lone Star instead of staying outside of taking care of all the bots all because of her stupid desire to be the first inside the derelict dreadnought.

But then again, why else would she have teamed up with a bunch of ruffians if the rest couldn't handle themselves in a little scrap.

[Assistant]
JR was no less anxious to get on the Star, but the rate at which people seemed to be stepping out was both impressive and astonishing. Aside from the Gygan, it didn't really make much sense for anyone to be going for the ship without having been docked, but at least it made for some entertainment. At least until it seemed as though things were... well, going. He definitely began to get an apprehensive feeling about boarding the ship, though it made him all the more anxious to get onboard and find out why. There was definitely something about that ship.

He stood himself up at the mention of them docking with the dreadnought, knowing that it wouldn't take much longer now. He was more than ready to board, though he couldn't help but be distracted by two of his apparent crewmates' bickering. The two of them were either going at each others throats, or organizing their next romantic getaway, or both. It was definitely hard to tell, and he was sure plenty of sarcasm was flying through the shuttle. He couldn't help but chuckle at some of their remarks.

The window through the airlock showed their point of entry, a few hundred meters away at this point. The movements of the shuttle were jarring at points, but JR bore through it. It definitely wouldn't be the first time. "Well then, who's ready to party?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the Lone Star's airlock.

[User]
"Watch out, we're incoming!" Felix screamed into the radio as the shuttle drew closer to the dreadnought, its thruster fire swelling across the ancient plating, burning away a few of the scurrying droids as they finished cutting into the hull plating. They seemed unconcerned with their dwindling numbers as both Sevyn and Hundred targeted their colleagues, instead setting into the damaged innards of the ship's docking mechanism with a single-minded devotion. The spinning hull fragment spun off into the cold darkness of space, drifting passed the shuttle's viewports with an almost serene grace.

A groaning shriek of twisting metal echoed inside the shuttle's compartments as the umbilical made contact with the Lone Star's hull, scraping a couple of inches before the magnetic clamps managed to lock into place on the ancient plating. The placement wasn't ideal with the maintenance hatch a little off-centre, but it was a good solid lock which would be more than sufficient for the party to board.

"You guys had better be going," Felix called through the 'com as his fingers danced a grim fandango across the thruster controls. "That asteroid belt's coming up fast."

[Assistant]
"T minus one minute and closing!"

That was the last thing that escaped Simon's mouth before several tons of space-grade steel plowed straight into the Star's hull. The screech was ear splitting, but after all was done, the umbilical was locked firmly in place by the magnetic clamps. Felix had done his job, now it was time for them to do theirs. Simon stood, unclipped a slightly bent piece of plas-steel from his chest plate and bolted it into place on the back of his neck guard. The folded piece of equipment powered up and unfolded with a rhythmic whirring and clicking, extending itself up over his head and around his ears, the helmet slowly forming itself in place. The last thing to form itself was the faceplate, which he left up while he excited the cockpit, not without giving Felix a pat on the shoulder.

"Good job Felix, thank you. We'll take it from here, you busy yourself with getting out of the way of those rocks."

Without waiting for anyone else he booked it from the cockpit, grabbing his rifle from the bench as he strode towards the shuttle's airlock. He pushed his way ("excuse me sorry") past the Visipian, Mez, and tapped the airlock control. He turned back to the remaining crew still within the ship, a grimace on his face.

"Colleagues, we have to leave, now."

He nodded his head and his faceplate slid down and snapped into place, the viewports of the stark white helmet lighting up in a crimson red cross.

"Otherwise we all perish."