[System]
Character Information
Alias
N/A
Age
19 - Functioning Appearance
12 - Actual
Race
Android
Gender
Female
Occupation
N/A
Height
5'4"
Weight
284 lbs
Hair Color
Red
Eye Color
Red
Appearance

Written Appearance
Unit 05b is slender, designed that way with a hybrid frame that would confuse one on the gender of her being. Her hair is cut short with the exception of two strands, bound by small white bandages, that go past her shoulders. Moving lower, Unit 05b has two holes just above her shoulder blades which act as her boosters for when she activates them. Additionally, she has three holes on the back of each of her legs which act for the same purpose. Her skin is very pale, almost inhumanly so, but it does little to draw attention so long as she does not do anything stupid.

As far as the wares that 5b commonly uses, it would be a dark gray crop top that ends just above her stomach. The lower part of her body is covered by a long blackened skirt which ends below her knees.
Personality
5b has very little to say about when it comes to a personality, being programmed to have a singular purpose to care for the man who created her and destroy the abomination that wishes to destroy him. That said, 5b is an analytical fighter, always on the defensive as she analyzes her opponent's moves before attacking with brutal efficiency. Even with that being said, without a memory wipe to destroy the development of memories and the likes, she can develop into someone who simply wishes to see herself live a life without being controlled by a scientist. Ultimately, 5b has a bit of a problem with actively socializing with others, not knowing how to actually hold a conversation or really anything.

As far as personal goals go, she does not really know what she wants quite yet. She simply wishes to provide for her master so that he can upgrade her as necessary so that she may perform her program more efficiently.
Background
To discuss the background of Unit 5b, one must first discuss the background of a certain Doctor James Nanos. Doctor James Nanos, when he was the ripe age of thirty four, was living a relatively good life with a wife and a daughter. Everything was going swimmingly, but as the song and dance goes this simply does not last. With the creation of one of his more advanced androids, with a human-like AI that could learn quickly, did not like the thought of simply being relegated to becoming a maid to be mass produced and sold to the general public. In fact, she hated it so much that her AI had essentially corrupted itself, turning it into something that ahd freed itself from its sole program. This was the misery of Unit 5, now known as 5a, as it simply went mad through the various tests that it was put through before the inevitable rampage that ripped apart Doctor Nanos' life. It started by destroying the laboratory it was housed in, augmenting itself with parts from other Androids meant for more violent means before it went on to Nanos himself.

He was not home when the attack happened, destroying his wife and daughter as well as the rest of everything he owned before it went underground. It was a bit later that Unit 5b would be constructed with the sole purpose of revenge, to hunt down 5a and destroy it without hesitation. However, tracking it proved to be more difficult than he would have imagined, and the originally schematic of 5b proved too inefficient to go after the self-upgrading likes of 5a. So, he rebuilt 5b, modeling it after his daughter, and upgrading what he could with what little he had available. It was a hard development process, and he refused to allow 5b to have the ability to upgrade itself out of fear of another incident. James did prove that he was committed, an attribute that puzzled the AI of 5b as it simply did not understand why James refused to build a more efficient model.

It would be ten years later that Unit 5b would be ready to start the hunt, being updated to have a highly analytical mind and with the thrusters to make it move faster as well as fly. This would not prove enough to bring down Unit 5a, who had been busy upgrading itself in anticipation of being hunted by Nanos. The fight was not close, 5b being trounced completely, barely escaped with the majority of her frame intact, her legs having been ripped off and missing a hand. She flew back to Nanos, reporting her failure as Nanos actually tried to comfort her, treating her more as a daughter than a robot. This fact was lost on her, however, requesting that she be fixed and allowed to have an AI on match with 5a so that she may improve by herself should the need arise. Much to her surprise, Nanos allowed this and she was upgraded with the new function of being able to learn, however, she was told than this function was not something that would allow for spontaneous upgrading and told her to experience the world.

She still does not understand why he gave her so much freedom when 5a had none. Though that is for the future.

Though, given the Tournament coming up, 5b figured that it would best to try and win more money for further augments.
Weapon & Techniques
Weapon
N/A
Power Level
910
Ki Color
Red
Techniques
* Perfect Defense (Defensive)- 5b prepares herself for an assault, relegating all functions to a defense allows her to stand against this and block any attack that she can sense.
* Thrusters (Upgrade) - 5b has eight thrusters on her that allow her to fly or simply move faster, with these thrusters she is able to also deliver more powerful kicks and strikes against her opponents.
* Analytic Sense (Upgrade) - With a vastly upgraded AI, 5b is able to analyze a situation and find even minute weaknesses in even the most skilled of fighters. This deadly upgrade is fast, accurate, and ruthless and she will be able to outpredict her opponent in a prolonged fight.

Other:
Doctor James Nanos (NPC) - 5a and 5b's creator. Functioning as 5b caretaker and upgrader for the time being, though he treats 5b more as a daughter due to her being modeled after his daughter in terms of an appearance.
Unit 5a (NPC) - Enemy of 5b and James. Location Unknown, rival, murderer, corrupted AI. Primary Function: Destroy 5a.

[User]
Character Name: Sheeban
Race: Human
PL: 910
Time/Date: Day 1, Morning
Location: Fighter Waiting Room
Tagging: @Slingshot @The Abyss

Well it wasn't much yet but Chanko was fairly sure she would be able to put Hiko on the right path. At the very least he had done a few of the tasks she had told him about. Sheeban had a name to work with alongside the name of his dojo, Tsubasa Temple. Chanko would need to investigate it at some-point if only just to see how much of the basics of sports entertainment that this dinosaur man knew. Some dojos were not as willing to teach the basics of the craft as Satan's Castle was; and Sheeban needed to know just how much he knew before she eventually contacted one of the other members in the organization to bring Hiko in.

But those thoughts quickly dissipated as she was pushed a bit by a spacer, which definitely wasn't super elite. Letting go of Hiko's tail, the monster of a woman let out a snarl as she pointed towards the shorter prey, "SNNNNURK." snorted out Sheeban as her nostrils flared,

"YO FREAK! You think you can get away with pushing The Dungeon's Princess!?" hollered out Sheeban as she clenched her meaty fist and pointed towards Raddik. "SUCH PITIFUL INSOLENCE SHALL NOT BE TOLERATED IN THE COURT OF SHEEBAN." Bearing her teeth in a bestial smile Sheeban glared daggers at the space chimp, "I've broken chumps like you for breakfast without breaking a sweat."

This was followed by yet another scene of braggart flexing of her gigantic muscles "Unlike you, I am an elegant siege machine built to rule and kill. LOOK AT THESE PYTHONS!" declared Sheeban as she once again showed off her arms before moving into another stretch. With another devious smirk she began waggling her finger, "As such a noble ruler, I will give you two options. You shall either kneel before my superior presence or – you will be broken piece by piece."

She held out her left finger before taking her right hand and began to mime pulling it back. "I think those fingers, those joints will be the first to go." remarked Sheeban with a devious glee.

Man, Chanko was in the zone today. There were many sources of inspiration to be had and the show had not even begun! Who knew what inspiration the jeering of the crowd would bring!? But that was for the future, the matter here was that of the present.

"Sooooo..." drawled out Sheeban as the giantess gave out a fervent grin bearing her teeth, "...What is your choice. Choose wisely."

[Assistant]
b]Character Name:[/b] Kin Zoku
Race: Human - Mutant
PL: 910
Time/Date: Day 1, Morning
Location: Fighter Waiting Room
Tagging: @Williwaw @Slingshot

Kin watched the entertainment go on for a bit and when the giant woman went off on the newcomer with a tail, he decided that he should speak up and try and defuse the situation. He took out one of his metal orbs and manipulated it into a ten foot tall and five foot wide barrier of steel that was placed between Sheeban and Raddik. Kin then used his powers to lift himself off of the ground and hovered above them with his arms crossed.

"I think you have said enough for one day. Wait till you're in the ring and try to control your roid rage" he said calmly as he watched the fighters below. He wasn't expecting to be a keeper of the peace, but he was willing to do so if the situation was going to get out of hand. Although the thought did cross his mind that if these two fighters began to tear each other part then that would be two less opponents he would have to deal with in the ring. But Kin wasn't one for hoping that some misfortune befell his competitors and so he just decided that it was best to keep things under control.

"Let's not ruin a great day for the tournament with petty fighting and ego clashing" he stated and was curious to see how the muscle woman would react to him intervening in her tirade at Raddik.

[User]
Yang Wuxin
Earthling Human
PL: 910
Time/Date: Day 1, Morning
Location: Waiting Area
Tagging: None

Yang started to sigh at first. He wasn't interested in conversing with the two women, but at the same time he was probably too polite to actually refuse them. Thankfully, the choice was taken out his hands when a third woman stormed into the Waiting Area. She bellowed about her imminent victory and carried on with her show-boating. Combined with the woman in the hat suddenly bickering with the second woman, Yang no longer had any need to take part in the conversation. That suited him just fine, and he carried on with his meditation.

With his meditation, Yang attempted an uncommon practice known as Image Training. While meditating, a martial artist could potentially project a vivid image of themselves in their own mind. A pair who could meditate on the same wavelength could even spar against each other within their own minds, but as Yang was alone he settled for exercises and kata training. Within his own mind, he was at the bank of a river at the base of a mighty waterfall. The sound of the crashing waters was vivid in Yang's mind, and his image self stood on the shore, performing the usual warm-up exorcises before going into full katas. His hands and feet struck the air at blinding speeds, as punches or chops or forceful kicks. The katas grew more intense until Yang suddenly ended by swinging his arm in a chop aimed at the direction of the waterfall in the distance. The strike was so forceful, so laden with Ki that it seemed to split the waterfall down the middle, but only temporarily as moments later the two streams fused back together into one.

Yang wasn't completely unaware of his physical surroundings during all of this. He was instinctively able to sense the arrival of a handful of others, including a particularly interesting fighter that went into a meditation of their own. Yang wondered if the Pterodactyl was also familiar with Image Training, but chose not to ask in order to avoid breaking the focus of his meditation. But it would only be normal meditation, as Image Training often came with the caveat of being mentally exhausting and Yang didn't want to overdo it before the tournament could even begin.

[Assistant]
Android
PL: 910
Time/Date: Day 1, Morning
Location: Waiting Area
Tag: N/A - Open

Unit 5b had quickly grown lost, though she had understood that the large, strange woman had told her off and had gone on to do many things that did not seem efficient with the time up to the tournament. Instead, 5b backed away and instead chose to sit down and perform a routine diagnostic test, though not out of necessity. She instead chose to do the test in an effort to block out the distractions and oddities that the organics decided to impose on one another, finding it to be useless in her goal of obtaining the zenni to upgrade herself. At least not that she was focusing on diagnostics she could get rid of that distractions.

To the outside world, she would look to be meditating, in a tranquil state of peace. However, in her head there was an orderly amount of information flowing through her central processor, making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be and that everything was doing what it was needed to do. Granted, this maintenance would not take much time as her analytical nature was able to quickly go through and sort the information as needed, certainly faster than any organic could. Yet, as she was categorizing information from her legs, unwanted information managed to storm into the inner recesses of her mind.

"Pathetic. If Nanos really wanted to destroy me, he would have made something that at least stand evenly to me," a familiar voice chastised her creator. Her mind had begun to replay the audio from the encounter she had with 5a.

"I will not destroy you, not yet. I want to see Nanos suffer even further, I want him to know that his efforts mean nothing and that he cannot undo me," 5a stated, anger clearly driving the voice that tormented 5b.

Her eyes opened once more, her hands had gripped her seat and bent the metal between her fingers ever slightly. 5b would not allow herself to fail again, this she had set into her mind, but she had to continue moving forward in order to overcome 5a or else she allow the corrupted AI to succeed in destroying Dr. Nanos. At least now she knew what ambition felt like, or what she could conclude to be ambition. She also knew what anger was, knowing that it would drive her to be irrational and merciless like it did with the organics. However, she knew that the feeling would pass so long as she did not focus on 5a.

She focused her eyes in front of her, instead looking down at the floor and trying to align her thoughts elsewhere.


[System]
Appearance: She is a tall, attractive woman standing 5'10, her body toned and in shape from years of intense physical activity. Her most striking feature is her violet eyes which stand out greatly from her light red skin coloration. Like others of her species she possesses a row of shorter dark horns, almost in a crown pattern along the top of her forehead. Her face is also tattooed, the tattoos holding great meaning to her.
Age: 23

Planet of Birth: Coruscant

Species: Zabrak

Skills/Abilities:
- Hand to hand combat: Vixai is quite skilled in fight with her hands, though she prefers not to fight at all when given the option. Nevertheless she is able to take down an opponent with an array of moves such as grapples, kicks and sweeps.
- Espionage: She is first and foremost a spy, not a soldier, a sneaky spy. Vixai considers herself on of the best in the galaxy and she is not entirely wrong with this line of thought. She is extremely skilled at usage of disguises and crossing enemy lines, her true identity hidden completely.
- Charismatic: She is skilled with her words and is quite often able to coerce others into revealing important information.
- Hacking: Vixai is very skilled with computers and is able to hack them through experience and careful learning.
- Observationist: Vixai has very keen senses and is able to collect information very easily. Her observation skills are top notch. When need be she can blend into a crowd.
- Multilingualism: Vixai is fluent in Galactic Standard, Huttese and Twi'leki.

Equipment:
- KYD-21 blaster pistol
- Vibroknife
- Padded full body jumpsuit
- Computer spikes
- Fibercord grappling hook with a wrist mounted launcher

Personality:
Vixai is extremely quiet and observant, one that rarely starts conversations in casual settings. On missions she is more open depending on the mission, but naturally she is very quiet. Patient to a dot Vixai does not rush anything, taking things at her own pace. She is a very careful person that always thinks of the possible consequences of her actions before she takes them.

She is self reliant and does not trust others with much ease, even in her childhood she did not have many friends, she is used to working on her own and prefers it. It is odd of her to actually have joined the Rebel Cell on Coruscant but it was a partership of positivity to her, partly due to it forming right in her back yard. Truthfully she does not care for the Rebellion but rather wants to see the Empire pushed back.

History:
Born in the seedy underlevels of Coruscant as the only child of two lower class parents, Vixai spent much of her younger years on the streets so she can be considered an expert on life in the undercity. From the start she was watchful of everyone around her, having grown up practically next to murderers, thugs, extortionists and all kinds of criminal filth. She only trusted herself and it served her well as many of her friends from her childhood died far too young in the brutal undercity.

She got her start as a spy in her teenage years. Her expertise was gathering and then trading of information which routinely earned her a constant and livable amount of credits. Vixai briefly entertained moving somewhere nicer, where she wasn't as likely to get shot in the back, but squashed those thoughts as she realized her gift as a spy would be best used in the seedy underworld.

Some time later after she ended up entwined with the Rebellion, while not particularly caring for their plight as a whole she was interested in booting the Empire out of her home.

[User]
The man at the bar had tastes that were... less than expensive. He'd been nursing a succession of cheap lomin-ales the entire night. Trickles of the drink had woven their way through his beard, and he had made no effort to remove them.

Clearly the man came from a very warm planet. He was dressed shoulder to toe in very thick clothing. If he were dumped on Hoth, he would probably have been warm enough to go for a stroll. But he was on Coruscant, not Hoth, and the man swaddled up for a walk in the snow had gotten a few strange looks that night.

He checked the chrono above the bar. Huh. The meeting should have started a few minutes ago. Sithspit. He flicked a credit chit on to the table and got up with nary a word. Weaving through batches of people, human and nonhuman alike, he stepped into the backroom where the meeting was occurring.

It didn't appear he was that late. Not all the seats had been filled. So he sat in one.

"Jernigan Corvi. Pilot," he introduced himself. All business.

[Assistant]
Keenan headed down the avenue looking for the Royal Bantha, he was forwarded a message about a rebel cell there and after what happened at the spaceport he was willing to join them. while he was largely unnoticed on the walkway his armor was still drawing some attention, so when he finally found the bar he first slipped into a side alley and activated his stealth field generator before heading in.

once he got through the bar he deactivated the generator as he entered, he looked around the room at the others that were already there, he didn't know who the leader was, the message had been forwarded through an unknown third party and didn't contain the identity of the leader of this cell, but did notice another person in Mandalorian armor. he made his way across the room to him and leaned on the wall next to him, "I-i'm Keenan" he said, the Mandalorian's voice betraying his timidness and probably ruining any assumptions made based off is appearance, he spoke quietly enough that only the armored individual and likely the Twi'lek next to him could hear.

[User]
Sarkh looked up from his position at the table as the rest of the merry band of misfits entered the room. His reptilian eyes sizing them up as his own hands still polished and reinserted parts with a casual grace. Though he did not outwardly show it he was as interested in the group as his companion was for more pragmatic reasons. Sarkh was going to be the one leading them into the field when it was required for as good as a tactician that La was she just didn't have the mind for actual combat. So as his eyes passed by like spotlights they judged and analyzed and in honesty they were not the best group he had ever seen, but they were not the worst either and that was enough for him. The Jedi had him worried though announcing you were suck to a room of strangers was never a smart idea, and it give Sarkh a moment to contemplate how raw the kid actually was. When the Zeltron handed him the piece of the gas converter he looked at it for a moment feeling the smooth metal brush against his hand. Seemingly satisfied he grunted and stowed it away in one of his many pouches contain a variety of ammo and other spare goods. "It looks corroded because the gun is older than you kid. The LS-150 is old and temperamental tech like most weapons my people manage to smash together. A new converter would damage the cyclic interface and eventually force me to scarp the thing. But thanks... I'm sure I can find a use for it." He explained ideally before turning his attention back to his gun.

While Sarkh was keeping it cool and professional, La was trying her very best to remain on the proper side of dignified as a dreadful mixture of regret and excitement came over her as for the first time a group had actually shown up. Going down her checklist it seemed like everyone was there, she cross-referenced was the faces in front of her just to make sure. The group may not of been the most professional of sorts but they all had certain skills that the Twi'lek knew were going to useful in the coming weeks. As the bounty hunter by the name of Keenan entered she finally checked the last boxo off the list and nodded pleased to herself. Looking around her eyes met with Sarkh's looking for any sign of reassurance but all she got was his normal boring face as he gestured with his off hand for her to begin her show. Taking a breath she collected her thoughts and rose up as the anxious side of her mind screamed that this was a bad idea, and her more courageous side was getting hyped and ready to go. Clearing her throat she began to speak in a calm, warm voice that easily hid away any of her worry. "Well that would be everyone, guess it is time for us to start."

"My name is La as some of you may already know and my companion here is Sarkh, one of the most wanted lizards this side of the Kessel run. As most of you already know you have been gathered here today for a very special reason. The Alliance to Restore the Republic has tasked me wtih a mission to strike out against the heart of the Empire here on Coruscant. But this mission can not be done alone and so this is why you have all been asked to come here. You all have a special set of skills that will be valuable to this task and your own grudges against the imperial rule which is why out of hundreds of options you were chosen. I will not lie to any of you and say that this task will be easy, but I don't think any of you came here expecting an easy job." La explained to them all trying to keep it positive, she turned to Sarkh gesturing for him to say something.

Looking up at her from his seated position he rolled his eyes before he spoke. "Girly has already told you my name and I suppose I am going to have to be the one in charge of your welfare in the field. Words of advice? Well, to be frank if you have any reprimands or fear of the idea of dying you better walk out of here now."

"Sarkh!" La declared in a chastising tone as she did want to big dumb lizard to go and scare away the only group that had actually showed up.

"What? I'm not going to go around and hide the fact. To go against the Imperial Security Bureau on there own turf is practically asking for a massacare. Not that I mind, I just don't want some kid shitting his pants and forgetting how to fire a blaster as soon as things go south. A perfectly reasonable request don't you think." Sarkh responded as La let out a sigh conceding the point to him. He was right of course what they were being asked to do was basically a suicide mission or wose and having everybody on board with the idea was probably the best way to start. La looked back towards the group with a simple shrug of her shoulders before she spoke.

"He does have a point I suppose. So I guess I will get this out of the way before we progress any further. If any of you want to step out now while it is not too late, you may." She explained making a sweeping gesture with her hand opening the floor to anyone that would want to voice their opinion.

[Assistant]
Arimax, who had been leaning against the wall near the door the entire time, checked the time on his PDA. The room had been silent for several uncomfortable minutes. Well, then, he thought. Might as well try to liven it up in here a little bit.

He stood up in front of the group, smiling thinly as he spoke to the jumbled mess of mercenaries and true rebels before him.

"Many of you arrived after me, so I'll just introduce myself again. I am Arimax Lispat, of Coruscant. I have every reason to believe that everyone in here is trustworthy - at least, as long as the money is good and nobody's family gets captured or anything silly like that. I, myself, am here because the Empire is in the way of progress. They need to be removed for the sake of both science and prosperity."

He looked around the room for the others' reactions before continuing in a slightly more serious tone.

"Nobody has left the room, so I assume we're all ready for the next step... What is the first thing we need to do to disrupt the Empire's operations on Coruscant?"

[User]
Renga tried to hide his surprise that the lizard schooled him so hard, but he failed. So he covered the lower half of his face with his left hand and nodded sagaciously as he took a seat and listened to the buildup. The promise of death did make him pale in pink to pastels, but he held his reserve.

"I'm not a warrior, I'm a gun nut who can make you all even better warriors. I bring a job security most of you don't possess and the licenses to carry and operate military firearms. I can't promise you I won't loose my cool staring down a barrel, but I can promise you I'll bow out before I'm a liability to this cause."

[Assistant]
Vixai listened to the others speak from a corner of the room, the whole time her eyes scanning the room trying to read the faces of her potential allies. She was not scared of the ominous speak of death, she was a spy, avoiding death was her top skill. The Zabrak didn't really care for the plight of the Alliance, but she would admit that knocking the Empire down a step or offworld entirely was a sweet goal.

"We don't need to attack the Imperials head on. With such a small, focused group here there's other ways." She pipped in her usual quiet tone of voice when the room fell silent. She disliked actually going blaster to blaster with the might of the Empire, they would fail very quickly if that was the method they were going to choose.


[System]
Age: ?
Appearance:

Personality: Likes chasing people, dragging people around with its claws, terrorizing old ladies and being sneaky. Hates wolves. Thinks fireflies are yummy.

Profession: Staring Contest Champion

History: ??

[User]
When the ground started trembling, Naia immediately let the magic holding the structure together dissipate. She stared with wide eyes at the trees as they thrashed about, trying to figure out what was causing them to act how they were. Feeling something grip her arm, she looked down and saw the child, who looked terrified. Letting him hold her arm for now, she followed his finger to the big mountains in the distance, finally spotting the cause of the earthquake.

Several questions ran through her mind at once. Why was the mountain crumbling? What was going on there? Should they run? Her eyes snapped upward as she spotted a gryphon above them, then went to Palla as she started speaking.

Before she could reply, the sound of rushing water reached her ears, causing her to turn to the source of the sound. Dread gripped her at the sight of the wave of water coming towards them, though her mind was immediately running through solutions to save their lives. Her ears barely registered Palla's whistle, but she knew the gryphon was too far away. In a few short seconds she had settled an idea that would work.

She quickly picked the boy up, ignoring any protests he may have had, and ran the short distance to Palla, already putting the magic of the lantern to work. Wood started to form around the three into the shape of a boat. Knowing the water hitting it would be rough, she put a roof above them for protection, deciding she would take the roof off later, and the wood the boat was made of was sturdy and strong. It was about the size of a small bedroom.

The boat had barely finished forming when the wave crashed into it, the force causing them all to fall onto the floor. They could feel the water moving them along, knocking into a few trees on the way, but thankfully the boat held strong. When the force of the current had calmed some, Naia removed the roof of the boat to reveal the sky above them.

[Assistant]
Artemis barely registered the destruction of the island as she gripped Nura's armor, body held low against the gryphon's back. Her knuckles were white and her teeth were clenched – every muscle was taut with frantic energy. But she couldn't move. She could barely think. Her thoughts raced, too quickly to keep track of, as Artemis flew through the sky. Something was building inside her. Some horrid truth, too dangerous to recognize, too painful to look at, was rearing up inside her, pulling years of hidden emotions with it.

She barely registered when Nura landed on familiar, ashen ground. She stumbled off, inelegantly leaving Nura to squawk and chirp at her. The gryphon was obviously confused – she could sense some change, some foreign energy around her new rider. Artemis just tossed the Witch's staff at her taloned feet. Nura chirped in surprise, sniffing the staff only to dart her eyes back up to watch Artemis. Her feathers ruffled underneath her heavy plate armor, distressed sounds escaping her.

Artemis was pacing. Her heart hammered in her throat, her chest fluttering up and down like her very skin was struggling to contain her. Oseely's words echoed again and again in her head.

She had too much energy. She was too hot. She was freezing cold. With every step she took, saplings sprouted from the barren, charred earth, only to curl and blacken, smoke rising from their dying bodies. Magic sparked in her blood, uncontrollable, as the two Lords' runes glowed fervently bright on her hands. She clenched and unclenched her fists. In a flash of motion, she reached up and ripped the rabbit mask from her face and tossed it to the ground. Embers sparked into existence, following her hand, only to flicker and fade in the night in the next instant.

Losing the mask's energy didn't seem to calm Artemis at all. She was still restless, her breath coming out in frantic puffs as her fists clenched and unclenched in rapid succession. She just felt clumsier now, more cumbersome and less focused.

Artemis remembered the plague – the Climbing Vine, they'd called it. She remembered the panic that'd seeped through the valley when more and more people began dying from it. She remembered being quarantined from her parents when they fell to it. She remembered how her heart stopped when her brother caught it.

Idris' face flashed in her mind. Not as he'd been in life – no, Artemis saw him ashen and dull eyed, blindly telling her how much faith he had in her to do a job she was never meant for.

Her warm, loving, trusting little brother. The plague had taken him from her – it had stolen her life just as it'd stolen his.

Something nudged into her back and Artemis spun in a blur of motion, rounding on Nura, who immediately flinched back. The gryphon had a worried look in her eye, the staff held hopefully in her beak. Artemis wanted to feel guilty. But she was too overwhelmed by her own emotions to feel any more for Nura. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and clenched her teeth. This was too much. She lowered her hands to find them wet with fresh tear stains. She didn't even know. But if –

She looked up over Nura's armored head to see a familiar back – Oseely. He was standing in a tree on the edge of the waste. Suddenly her energy had a focus.

Artemis walked around Nura without glancing at her and began marching towards the Lord of Flame. Without slowing, she bent to scoop up the rabbit mask as she passed, frantic embers dancing off of her skin. Saplings were born and killed with every silent footstep. The barren trees themselves seemed to sway with her movement. Nura chirped around the staff in her mouth before jumping to follow nervously after her rider.

"Oseely!" came her ragged shout when she finally drew close. There was something desperate and grieving in her voice as it broke over his name. She came to a stop several yards away from his tree, looking up at him with bright, wet eyes. "Oseely, you tell me why I'm here!" For all its force, it wasn't a command – it was a plea. "Why am I here? You said that thing," she lifted a hand to point to the dragon, shaking itself out of the mountain, "stole lives from my world." She lowered her hand and looked at him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She had to force the words into the world. "Which ones?" They were hushed. But her voice grew again. "The ones closest to me?" Burning tears were starting to trail down her cheeks as she struggled to speak. "Am I here because the dragon drained the life from my family? My Valley?" She dared him to tell her the truth – why it was that her entire world had come crashing down. "Did it take my brother from me?" The person standing before him wasn't Artemis. It was the girl she'd abandoned with her family. Still grieving. Still in pain. She couldn't keep from holding her halting breath as she looked up at Oseely.

Still waiting for answers.


[System]
Age: Young Adult

Gender: Male

Magic: Fire magic, he can conjure it from his body and make it take the form of objects and animals. He can even make it take the shape of another fairy. It is obviously a mass of fire but he can make them move around like they are normal creatures. He can make normal fireballs and such too, though he rarely does so. He is unable to use his magic if he is wet.

Appearance: Sonny is an average height fairy with a slender yet well-toned body. His skin tone is a dark chocolate brown color. Other than some bold black freckles on his cheeks, his skin is without any major scarring and blemishes. Fiery orange hair with yellow tips is neatly cut mid-neck and the bangs are swept to the left. Sonny's hair is tidy and straight without a single strand out of place. It naturally ends up like that despite the minimal care he does for it. A bright yellow eye peers strongly out from below the orange hair which gives him an assertive image. As for his wings, they have the shape of the common yellow swallowtail butterfly except the edges are a little more wavy giving it a fiery look. The part of the wings close to his back is solid black and lightens up to an orange color before turning yellow at the edges.

All Sonny really wears these days is an off-color white lace-up top, tan knee-length shorts, an orange scarf, a dark orange sash, and a pair of black knee-high boots. The sleeve hole and bottom of the shorts are frayed from being amateurishly cut giving them a torn look. Everything else about the outfit is in excellent condition as proof it hasn't really been worn much. An eye patch covers Sonny's left eye and it is black with a flame design on it.

For the party, though Sonny has been 'encouraged' to wear a pristine button-down vest that is white with gold borders, long black slacks, and spotlessly clean black dress shoes. The fire fairy also was given a crown of orange flowers to make him more presentable. He is still wearing the scarf which adds some color to the attire and his eyepatch.

Personality: To put it frankly, Sonny is eccentric to the point that after meeting a pirate he decided to give himself a pirate name and be one. He is quite compulsive and willing to jump on anything that sounds interesting. He is one to do unconventional and inconvenient activities￼ just for the fun of it. Many find his actions idiotic and reckless, seeing him as nothing more than a troublemaker. It doesn't help that people nearby get dragged into his nonsense. These negative opinions of him rarely even get registered in his brain and he just continues doing whatever pops into his brain. This is mostly contributed by having an awful attention span that results in him getting very easily distracted. Sonny also has a terrible habit of half-listening to people which causes much trouble and misunderstandings. While not a bad person, Sonny doesn't even factor in how his careless actions affect others. So many of his wild actions more times than not just causes problems for everyone involved.

Because is his admiration of pirates, Sonny has been taking a pirate guise. He dresses similar to them, and talks in a pirate accent. He has even given himself the name Captain Aldridge. There is not must difference between his pirate persona and his usual self. Though his tendency to drag in others is on purpose as he attempts to be a leader.

History: Sonset was born in Pompfey like most fire fairies. He is actually a part of the royal family though he is just the 2nd cousin to the future heir with dozens of older fairies in higher lineage. So there is little chance he would ever inherit the throne, which is fine by him. His childhood to teen years was spent in the fire fairies of Pompfey territory. He found life in the barren wastelands they call home plain boring, but living in the royal family castle was even more unbearable. So often, he would sneak out to play near the lava pools of the active volcano they lived near or at the edge of town where he played around with his magic. Many times his hunt for something exciting to do has almost resulted in terrible accidents or injuries. Luckily nothing serious ever occurred from his reckless behavior.

Right around when he reached the age to be considered and young adult, he finally got to leave Pompfey. Sonny was excited to see something other than endless sand and a few stray cacti. The Fey Tropics still had sand but it seem different as it sat at the border of the large body of water. There was so much green and water, that Sonny couldn't help but get distracted and separated from the rest of his family. It didn't take long for him to be hopelessly lost without really knowing where he should be going. Then a strong windstorm passed through and he got blown away from the city.

As fate would have it he met with a water fairy named Neptune that called himself a pirate. He was a combination of strong, cool, and kind, and it made Sonny look up to him. After half a day of traveling, he was brought back to The Fey Tropics and his family. Sonny had a new love of pirates to much dismay of his family.

Other:
- His full pirate name is Captain Aldridge Rowley.
- The eyepatch he wears is cosmetic and both of his eyes are perfectly fine.
- Sonny oddly likes water despite the negative effects it has on him.

[User]
Feydellia Palace

Sky took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. Ok Sky, get it together. It's prince time! He stood up, smiled, and kissed the hand of the blue fairy that asked what happened. He also kissed the hand of the orange fairy that asked the same question. At least, that's what he thought he was asking… This fairy talked funny.

"Greetings, I am Prince Sky. This is horrible, absolutely horrible!" He started flying around in circles. "All of the guests have been turned to stone! Including my own mother and father, the king and queen! I don't know what happened. They were perfectly lively and having fun before, and then when I came down to make my entrance, this!" Suddenly, he stopped flying around, and landed when a realization hit him. "I bet those dark fairies have something to do with this! Our kingdoms have been at odds for as long as I can remember. Never in my life did I think they would be brazen enough to attack us at the Fairy Festival!"

[Assistant]
Feydellia

The festivities in Feydillia hadn'd been as vexing so far as Dragon and his crew had feared. While the entire event was a lot more... pink, than Dragon would have liked himself, he understood it as "cultural differences" and this had to just be quiet about it. Luckily for him, he had one of his retainers there with him, as well as his fiancè, Anathema, to keep him in check and to hinder that he accidentally start some sort of scandal with the kingdom. The last thing the dark fairies of Transfeyvania needed now, was yet another reason for people to shoo them all under one bus as a dubious people at best. Besides, she had been excited for this event for months on end, and he wouldn't be the one to stand inbetween his fiance and her current obsessions.

Besides, as mentioned earlier, and while Dragon would struggle with admitting this to himself and to the others, the festivities were quite lovely save for the tacky decor. There were stalls in the streets, and the air was thick with a sweet scent hinting at all the goodies presented below. There were fairies from all over the world present as well, all enjoying themselves and taking in the scenery.

"You know, sir. We would be able to explore more thoroughly had we not been late to the event." his retainer, Alva spoke. "Fashionably late." Dragon corrected her as they flew. "Nobody expecting us, and we have all day, so there is no need for us to rush" he continued. He only got a sigh from Alva in return. While the retainer was very talented talented, Alva was not the kind of fairy to mince her words.

However, the trio's friendly banted of excitement was cut short when a peculiar fireworks of sorts displayed in the sky further ahead, near what Dragon assumed was the Feydillian castle. The fireworks in question, which looked like it was created through magic, spelled out the word Help. Quite a strange display for such an event. Regardless, the group landed in a crowded area full of stalls and booths. It didn't seem that too many of the crowd noticed the possible call for help, as only a small handfull of fairies could be seen heading towards the castle.

After a short while of asking around, nobody seemed to know what was going on. "Allright, i will go and take a look", Dragon decided after arguing with Alva and Anathema for a few minutes. "If it actually is an emergency it would do us good to be on the scene to offer our help, after all.". He then ordered Alva to take Anathema to enjoy the festival until they get more information, after which they were to return to Transfeyvania to inform his father while he himself stayed behind to lend a hand.

Parting ways with the two ladies, Dragon took to the sky and started heading towards the castle. While he had no idea what was happening, he didn't seem very concerned. Knowing this place it was likely just someone having a bad case of Sugar rush.

He would then arrive at the castle and spot a small group of fairies looking distressed. Assuming they might know anything about what was going on, he landed by them, still not noticing how eerielly quiet the ballroom was.

[User]
@Crimson Flame @Yasha

Well, this was the last thing Zircon needed. She bristled as an orange-haired fairy landed in an exaggerated action pose, and addressed her as if this was an appropriate time to act like a pirate. Biting back a snippy reply, she took a deep breath. "I don't even know. I went in there, and everyone..." She gestured towards the ballroom. "Everyone was like that."

When the prince could bring himself to speak, he explained what he'd seen - the king and queen, turned into stone along with all the other guests. That seemed to get through to the wannabe pirate, who dropped the act and headed inside to investigate. Zircon clenched her fists. What was this - some kind of coup? With several innocent bystanders caught up in it, including Coralie? She closed her eyes, as if that would block the mental image of her stone features. Instead, it made the memory all the more vivid.

At Prince Sky's next words, she couldn't help but groan. He had to go and jump to conclusions, blaming the dark fairies. She recalled her visits to Transfeyvania, selling wares. While their culture wasn't as lively as those of most kingdoms, that didn't make dark fairies bad. Many she'd met had been polite and respectful. She knew from personal experience that anyone who didn't fit in with the norm was going to get picked on.

"Look, with all due respect, is there any proof?" The words, despite being addressed to a prince, came out a little harsher than she intended. That was when she spotted the young man who had just arrived. She cringed inwardly. The deep red and black of his wings indicated he was probably a dark fairy. There was a good chance he'd just heard all that, and even if he hadn't, things weren't exactly bound to go well between him and Sky.

[Assistant]
Feydellia

Juniper paused as her father called out for her to slow down. She obeyed and flew closer, but kept throwing anxious glances behind her. "There's a message right above the castle. It appeared right when I was looking at it – it says HELP in big capital sparkly letters... and... and nobody else saw it right away, and I got scared. Sorry for flying off like that." She hesitated, then decided she didn't want to leave time for him to argue that it might be dangerous to help, and instead turned back around. "Come on!" she urged, flying at a reasonably slow speed so that Dad wouldn't lose her.

Juniper followed the light to the castle. "Down here!" she piped up so Dad knew why she'd suddenly changed directions. The first thing she noticed was several out-of-place statues of fairies in the ballroom, though she didn't immediately realize the significance of them, so didn't narrate them to her father. There was a small group of fairies chatting nearby, so Juniper flew over to them, realizing that Prince Sky was among them after she was already in front of them. She'd never been in the presence of royalty before. "P-Prince Sky!" Juniper squeaked, hastily bowing. "U-um, I'm sorry to interrupt, I saw the HELP above the castle... and... um... thought maybe somebody needed help."


[System]
Yes, my character is WIP, I'll finish her later. Go ahead and post yours.

Username: Belwicket
Race: Human

Appearance: Luna stands at 5 and a half feet tall with mid-back length black hair, tan skin, bright blue eyes. She wears a dark green shirt, a pair of faded jeans, a mid-thigh length denim skirt, a pair of black skate shoes, and black, fingerless gloves.
Personality: Luna is very much a tomboy. She's always been outside, active, running around. Being born a mute, Luna's main form of communication was sign language. However, upon entering the Multiverse, she was given a voice. Because of this, she often seems a bit shy at first when meeting new people unless they know sign language. She doesn't like males and will often not trust them at first until they prove they can be trusted. However, that doesn't mean girls get off scot-free either. When she's met with someone she perceives as being in the wrong, she will often state it then and there and ask for a good reason, though does have a tendency of punching anyone that's doing bad things for the sake of doing them or for other bad reasons.
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Powers: Luna is a Psionicist, allowing her to communicate telepathically, move objects up to the size of her torso telekinetically, and always have a good sense of where her allies and enemies are during a fight.
Abilities: Growing up, Luna had always loved to run around and climb things. As she grew older, she began changing this to skateboarding and parkour.
Magic: Luna's only true magics are the fact she can summon a pair of golden wings from her back, allowing for flight, and summon a 4-foot long spiritual blade.

[User]
After each player chose yes, they would be sucked into the computer, only to appear in a black room. In the room, there was an oval table and 20 chairs. Three completely black doors adorned each wall, only barely visible. The 7 of them would be able to see green letters begin going down the wall from the dark ceiling to the center door past the head of the table. As the letters filled the door, it would become more and more visible until a man who appeared to be dressed as Neo with a hood covering his face entered. Behind him, the letters flew back up, allowing the door to camouflage once again. "Welcome, all, to the Multiverse. And it's good to see you again, Luna." the man spoke in a slightly digitalized voice.

From the back of the room, Luna rolled her eyes, stepping forward."Why'd you call this time, Code?" She asked with a frown. "And are you still working with Birth and Anomaly?" She plopped in one of the seats with a frown, knowing that the three of them had allied against Discord, Sheogorath and the Mad Hatter before. "Or did y'all break the alliance as soon as those three wack-jobs were dealt with?"

"My, my, child." another, deeper voice came from behind Luna. "Those men were merely misusing their potential. If we didn't lock them up, they would have turned the entire multiverse, including your home, into one giant playground for themselves."

"Anomaly." Luna frowned, not bothering to glance at the man cloaked in red and purple. Unlike Code, though, a red and a purple glow could be seen for his right and left eyes respectfully. "Sit and have some tea," he said, waving his arm to allow the seven spots closest to the new heroes to each gain a cup of their favorite tea.

[Assistant]
It was odd, what happened. But then again, many odd things happened back in the circus. All Leo knew was that he got sucked into the computer and ended up in this dark room. Then the green letters descended and filled a door and it finally became visible. A man stepped out of the door and then the letters dispersed, making the door invisible again. Ah, so this place was called the Multiverse, quite a name. The Pierrot didn't seem to mind the digitalized voice of the man. This place seemed to already be in a computer so it shouldn't be a surprise. Either that or he was a robot, that would be all the more cooler!

They seemed to know about the girl who suddenly spoke up. So her name was Luna. It was a nice name indeed! And the man's name was Code. Now that was a unique name right there. And then another person came in and his name was Anomaly. When Anomaly gestured that they should sit, Leo did as he was told. He quickly sat down on one of the seats, not exactly knowing what was going on but just going with the flow. In front of him was a cup of black tea, the type of tea the British drink. Leo was not one for teas and the likes but he always did find himself wanting more of the tea whenever he drank it.

His eyes went to the two men. He raised his hand like how a grade schooler would do to get the attention of his teacher. "Why are we here?" It was a direct to the point question. As someone who didn't much care on what happened next, Leo at least wanted to know why he was in the Multiverse. He also took a peek at the others and they did not seem the least bit human. Oh well! It's nice to have some variety every now and then.

[User]
Oh da..lube it up, Diana.

Things were just about to get hot and heavy in the gloomy room of a Russian teenage boy. His old Dell computer screen, the dinosaur of what it was now made a small illumination around the room, forming shadows under cheekbones and highlighting his delightful features. It has almost been a ritual at this point, beating a quick one after a game of Counter-Strike, but for some reason he wasn't feeling it tonight. Whether it be the thick odor of Kasha his mother made the night before, or the fact that he went 0-20 last game didn't set quite right. The boy didn't quite like to not finish what he had started, so he was about to go back at it when all the sudden a wall of green text appeared on his screen, covering the entirety of it, seemingly locking up his PC. He sniffed at it, confused. The boy leaned ahead in shock and gave his monitor a good clout before letting a line of static slowly drift from the top to the bottom of the screen. Nothing. Assuming it was nothing more than a chain mail or the average hacker trying to break into his computer again, he attempted to turn his PC off, but no avail. This it when a chill ran down the spine of the boy to which he skimmed past the paragraph at least several times before comprehending the entire thing. No matter how many times he read it, nothing correlated. Something about "The Crucible" bring captured and he being the hero to retrieve it! Another goddamn ad for an MMO.. but.. why must I feel so compelled to PLAY?

That's when it happened. All time and space around him collapsed. No more would he go by his regular name, but he would be known as "Pslam Silverman", the man with literally no face. Psalm was not sure what happened, and very little recollection of what happened, but never in his life did he expect to end up in a dark room with his genitalia exposed. When Psalm's vision came back into alignment, he viewed his surroundings, quickly to absorb his environment. The room contained an oval table that sat in the middle with exactly 20 chairs around. It looked like one big spooky United Nations meeting. Not long before traversing another realm, Psalm noticed his hand laying upon his privates, and he fiddled with his zipper in a slight panic to conceal them once again.

"Welcome, all, to the Multiverse. And it's good to see you again, Luna." spoke a masculine voice from above in a digitized tone. Who the hell was Luna, and more importantly, what business did Psalm have in the multiverse? A variety of information swarmed the mind of Silverman hastily in an extraordinarily strange manner. He was aware of himself and his character, as well as a basic understanding of the multiverse. Once stepping through the doorway of dissipating green letters, Silverman eyed the two figures standing idle within the establishment. However this was odd because he had no eyes. Or mouth. Or nose. In fact, the entirety of his facial features besides the fold of his eyebrows were missing.

There was a suave looking man in formal suiting. He looked like a mad hatter straight out of a Japanese cartoon. This pleased Silverman as he admired the dress he was in. To his right was a small woman in casual attire, as opposed to the gentlemen before him. There wasn't much for first impressions here, besides the fact she looked like she belonged on a farm.

"Sit and have some tea," spoke another man from the corner of the room. He seemed to come out of nowhere. In the regular world, this would have startled Psalm, but instead he just burst out with a booming soviet-esque laugh.

DA'HAHAHAHAHA! "O.K. THIS IS NO VODKA, BUT WILL DO, DA?" it was if Silverman was shouting, but this was in fact his regular speaking voice. He shook the room slightly, or so it seemed as vibrations were felt through the table, causing the tea to ripple in their cups slightly. When he spoke, his jaw moved in the way a regular humans would when they spoke. Despite having no mouth, he could still throw his voice in the deepest, loudest, and most Slavic tone possible. He took his seat promptly at the side of the table and awaited some form of instruction, sipping at his tea and enjoying himself with a feel of ease.

[Assistant]
There were many feelings that a certain dude-turned-RPG-character was feeling at the moment, as well as many thoughts rushing through his mind as he took a look at the situation. The main emotion that dominated about 3/4 of his thoughts at the moment, however, was complete and utter confusion. All he did was click "Yes" when his screen suddenly showed a random plot setup. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to click on a pop up, but when the pop up takes up the entire screen, and you returned to your computer without remembering what you had up on it when you left, some decisions are just ignored.

The dude wasn't exactly feeling all that well, as his new body was...not even close to what he was familiar with. He was floating, he was huge, and his body felt nonexistent. He couldn't feel his legs, because he didn't have any legs. His hands? A bunch of tendril-like appendages bound by rings that he didn't so much wear, as they floated around his wrists without touching him. Among other things, these parts of his body were almost completely foreign to him.

When people started talking, he looked up and found several other...interesting people in the room. Some of them seemed to know what they were doing or even what was going on. Considering he didn't even have his phone to retreat to in order to calm himself, the dude decided to ask just what was going on.

"Okay-"

The boy stopped as he heard his voice, or rather HER voice. There were many things that were wrong in the world, but a dude having a completely mature feminine voice that he imagined up for a character that he made for a fantasy RPG should not be one of them...Then it hit him. The ghostly appearance, the feel of his new body, the voice he had...It meant...It meant...

"I'M WALTZ?! I'M A GIRL!?"

[User]
Making his way to the door with liquor in hand, he gravitates upstairs to the living room where he'd last left his dusted old laptop. Setting the beers on the counter, he takes one a makes a seat for himself over at his desk. Moments after booting up, he notices his screen flicker a few times with strange text typing across the screen. He narrows in on it and automatically figures its something out of the ordinary. After finishing skimming through the text, he takes a sip of the beer and clicks 'Yes' just to see what would happen and to no avail he finds his mind warped with electrical signals pulsating throughout his body. The beer can falls- spilling across the floor with his laptops flickering screen being the only thing in sight.

Reappearing in a black room with an oval table of twenty chairs, he tries catching his breath and getting a better sense of his surroundings. What had just happened was something he wasn't quite prepared for and he steadily begins to panic before being greeted by a digitalized voice mentioning someone by the name of Luna. A few people step forth revealing themselves and taking seats across the oval table. Before taking a seat, he soon notices something strangely familiar about himself! The gauntlets, the wardrobe, his bulky size...he'd just realized he become his long-time character Eturund from an MMORPG he'd been long attached to. This was not that game, but something else. He takes a seat and a rush of excitement begins to flow through him. He takes a quick glance at the others around the table...and began having thoughts.

[Assistant]
"Well, if you are all ready, the door to the first world should be opening soon." Code said as he looked to the wall on his right.

"When Birth is ready." Anomaly added.

"Whatever." Luna frowned, downing the cup of tea. "Whoo, that's got quite a kick." she said, shaking her head.

The left door on the wall began glowing a soft green as green smoke began softly drifting from around the edges. The door opened slowly, showing only a wall of green smoke.

"Through that door is the first world and the first battle for the first clue." Anomaly said, opening the door he had entered through. "Good luck."

Luna stood with a frown and, without listening to Code, strode through.

"You need to find the person who's out of place." Code said, watching the woman disappear. "We can find the worlds they are in but it is up to you to find the actual person in each world." He spun as his door began to appear again. "Birth will tell you who it is on the other side."

-----

Birth stood in the center of a forest, the green smoke door just under 12 feet from him. Once everyone stood in front of him, he would bow respectfully. "Welcome." he would smile with a muffled voice and a Japanese accent. "This world is known as Toril. From the locals, I have gathered we are in one of the many forests in Cyrodiil. The person you are hunting is going by the name Ali Ababwa."

"Aladdin." Luna frowned with a sigh. "Is he alone or does he have Abu, Genie and Carpet with him?"

"Alone, as far as I know." Birth replied. "Any other questions?"


[System]
Age: 33

Race: Minotaur

Classes
Major: Farmer
Minor: Pugilist

God: Anomandaris

Appearance

Argrom stands a whopping seven feet eight inches tall, weighing in at an impressive 350 pounds of muscle and bulk. His eyes are a deep brown and his fur is a sandy off-white. Unlike the picture, Argrom does not wear anything on his horns, instead he keeps them at an average length, with the points dulled. He wears a brown belt made of leather (THE IRONY) which holds up a pair of plain beige pants. On this belt he has a variety of tools and pouches that hold stuff. On his wrists and ankles (just above his hooves), he wears a whole variety of colourful charm bracelets and amulets, feathers and other small coloured stones and even a gem or two. Some hand carved by his village elders, some by his family, and some by himself, of course.

Personality: In stark contrast to his bulk and appearance, Argrom is actually quite kind and soft-spoken for a huge bull on two legs. With a noble and strong spirit, he stands up for his friends a lot of the time, but usually doesn't have the volume of voice to prove his points. He is fiercely protective of those he considers family, friends and companions, and to injure one enough is akin to harming one of his own kin, to which he will respond with an ungodly rage that usually doesn't show itself often.

Spirit Animal: Ironically enough, a fish. Specifically a goldfish.

Equipment:* Cloth hand wraps
* Bandages for small wounds and scrapes
* A variety of different charms, bracelets and amulets, mostly made of wood or stone
* Small cutting knife
* Harvesting sickle
* Pouches containing simple medicinal salves and bandages
* Hammer
* Chisel
* Small hand pickaxe

Skills
Major - Brawler
Minor - Handyman

Magic: Some have thought Argrom's boundless strength and stamina to be merely his years of being a farm hand and working his own fields all by himself. Truth be told, he doesn't know where he gets all his energy from either. It wells up within him when he works, so it feels like it never runs out at all.

Strengths:* Being this huge minotaur, it obviously makes sense that Argrom is extremely strong, which he is. His vast strength was honed mostly from his farm work of tilling the land, hauling large amounts of crops, removing obstructions without tools and the like.
* Contrary to his size, he is also quite delicate with his big, rough hands. Having to perform precise chores like repairing tools, sewing up torn clothes and much other precision work has made Argrom very used to doing slow work with his big mitts.
* Drawing from the above, Argrom is quite adept at repairing things too. Obviously he can't fix something like a broken blade or weapon because he's not a blacksmith, but give him something like a hilt, a handle or some simple tool or piece of equipment that needs fixing and he'll fix it handily.

Weaknesses:* Argrom cannot hold his alcohol. At all. You'd think that having such a huge body would work wonders for his tolerance of the drink, but it's the main reason why he stays sober 99% of the time. He doesn't know why or how his body is so intolerant to liquor either.
* Argrom is also quite averse to violence, preferring to solve disputes using words rather than his fists. This does not mean he is a pacifist, he just prefers to talk his way out of things, though if the situation calls for violence he will reluctantly provide. Unless provoked or enraged (or drunk) of course.
* Argrom is not fast. Being a huge hulking bull on two legs means he isn't quick or graceful at all, being unable to dodge or avoid quicker hits or even move as fast as the rest.
* Because of his country upbringing, he is also quite clueless as to the ways of cities, of most of the other religions, politics, so on and so forth. He is also educated very simply, being taught basic arithmetic and language, and not much else past that.
* He is also not good at using ranged weapons or most big melee weapons like battle axes and the like.

Post Color: Light Blue

History: Born in a quiet country village some distance from human civilisation, Argrom was brought up as a country boy through and through. As soon as he could walk, speak and learn, he was taught how to tend to the fields and the animals. From an early age Argrom followed in the footsteps of his family and ancestors; tending to the fields of wheat, corn and barley that dominated the landscape, along with the rows of vegetables and the small orchard of their village. He was also homeschooled on basic mathematics and the like, though his education was little compared to how much he learned about the life of a farmer. Through the years he grew and grew until his size dominated their household, and his strength and stamina were the biggest points of his body, though little was said about his gentler nature and his pasttimes of wood carving and figurine making.

However, the peaceful life was not to last, as soon a recruitment drive for the Resistance rolled through the area they were in. A valiant rescue attempt was to take place. The Resistance needed all able bodied men to join as military men to aid their cause. Being the biggest and strongest, Argrom was sent as the village's only soldier, and now he is part of the growing efforts of the alliance, in training to rescue Szazah.

Post Sample: You should know how I post by now, Rilla, but here, a sample.

[User]
Lanariel Vanalan breathed in the cool air of the open forest as she made her way down the twisting narrow path. A strong wind caused the flowers caught in the breeze to dance about her like a spinning cyclone. Here and there a green leaf from the trees swayed among the blues and whites. A sudden sneeze rocked the cloaked figure--oh how she hated her allergies. The day was beautiful out as any fool could see yet she could scarcely enjoy it. Unused to the great outdoors, the woman found herself stuffy and congested constantly. A fate no magic she possessed could remedy sadly. It was sometimes infuriating to imagine magic was capable of countless wondrous things, yet for something as trivial as this she had no power to overcome.

Perhaps had she been a druid? No if such was the cause she would have had much more resilient a constitution in the first place. At least her journey would not last much longer. The wind was bothersome, but the heat from the sun above warmed her bones well enough. It was a cloudy day to be sure; the hooded and cloaked elf only hoped there was to be no rain. She could hardly tell the weather given her lack of experience in the outdoors.

The woman's long coat, a deep black, aided in hiding her stunning features and pointed ears. All signs that would have given away her race instantly. Her magnificent silver snow hair cascaded down and peaked from the folds of her hood. Silver eyes watched the surrounding terrain with a mix of caution and anxiety. She once again questioned the wisdom of her superiors in sending her to aid this resistance. Sure she held promise, but her experience in such a role and away from the grand temples no less… she had to admit she held some doubt in her heart. She gripped the quarterstaff in her right hand more firmly as she climbed a small hill. A few bells tied to one end that rattled with each step. Her most interesting aspect however, was not her choice of cloths or race, but instead the interact tattoo of a death mask plastered upon her face. Giving her the appearance of a black and white death head.

From her new vantage point the young elf (young in the years of elves at least) caught her breath at the sight. Countless tents, pavilions, and numerous wagons. This had to be it there was no doubt. The Moving. The younger races often thought of the most mind numbingly mediocre of names for such things. Still she guessed it was fitting enough.

Well she had at least arrived, she only hoped that the news of her coming had preceded her as her superiors had planned. She wondered what awaited her on this path she had been given.

[Assistant]
Akael was found lurking in the marketplace, though not without some difficulty. Despite his strange appearance the Elf was adept at blending in with the impoverished and down-trodden, his clothes seeming thread-bear and strictly practical his unusual characteristics were not evident to most. It would take an uncommonly observant man to spot the Elf in the crowd, fortunately for the Tengu who sought his particularly cold set of skills; he had such a man in his employ. Akael noticed him only a few moments after he himself had been spotted, but before he could prepare to escape the man raised his hand in a sign of peace. Akael's eyes narrowed, one hand clutching the knife sheathed at his side as he turned his body, hiding his intent.

"Akael, I am from the resistance, I've got a message for you." The man said, his words formulaic and practiced, as if he was resisting the urge to return to the gutter speak he was likely born into. Akael's response softened somewhat, but he was still ready to slit the man's throat as he got close to him. Akael suffered a minor pain behind his forehead as his pangs hit him, always at the most inopportune time. Gritting his teeth, he nodded his head slightly.

"You've been asked to work for the boss, the Tengu, he wants to see you, if you'd follow me I'll be able to lead you to him, he isn't easy to find." The man told Akael.

"I'll find him." Akael said, refusing to follow someone into what could possibly be an ambush. The Tengu was unique, Akael was confident he could find him. If he couldn't it was really no concern of his, he wasn't all that interested in what the strange bird-like man had to say at any rate. The man frowned, but Akael had already made efforts to melt into the crowd, disappearing in the press of bodies around him.

It took him perhaps half an hour to pin down the Tengu's location, mostly from a smattering of conversation and one nonchalant question asked in a crowd where his appearance would not alert the people to his identity. He worked from these clues to find the tent, conspicuously set against the side of the cliff, and after a cautious moment peered inside, to find that as he suspected it was a front for a cave entrance. He followed it with careful steps, knowing all too well how his steps could echo and reveal his presence to enemies, but as he ventured into the strange obviously crafted-room and spotted the Tengu within, he knew he was in the right place. He had managed to arrive first, despite almost an hour since his messenger had been sent out to find him, suggesting that the others were dawdling for whatever reason.

"I am here, Tengu." Akael said, his deep voice resonating as he spoke in a reserved, almost quiet, fashion.

[User]
Kokoro nervously fidgeted in her seat, the rocking of the supply wagon doing little to curb her anxiety. A plethora of questions and second thoughts ran circles through her mind, gaining momentum the longer she sat, and the closer she got towards the Moving, the location of the resistance. Would she be found out? Is she capable of reaching her goal? Can she even handle the tasks given to her? By the time she nearly thought of just curling up and hiding inside one of the storage boxes carrying the supplies, the wagon stopped, having reached its destination. Glancing furtively around, she slowly disembarked, before looking about. Her anxiety and stress that was built up over the course of her journey was unable to be released, as she drew the gazes of curious onlookers.

Avoiding eye contact, she weaves her way through the crowd, aiming to reach a more secluded area, preferably at the edge of the camp, while attempting to ignore everyone. Despite wearing armor, she still felt slightly out of place amongst all the gruff and well-built people around. However, before she could move too deeply through, someone had placed a hand on her shoulder. Barely managing to keep herself from shrieking at the unexpected contact, she stiffly turned around to meet a man. "I hope you aren't too weary from your travels, Kokoro, but the boss, Tengu, wants you to work for him. Allow me to guide you there.". Finding herself far too strained to speak, Kokoro could only give a stiff nod as a positive response to the man.

Being led in a winding, almost maze-like pattern, Kokoro was easily confused as they neared the rather normal tent, yet seemingly guarded quite heavily. Was this the place that she was suppose to meet this Tengu? Nervously glancing at the guards, the weapons in their hands, the messenger behind her, she got a short, "Go on." from the man, before he moved on, presumably to collect yet another person. Sighing in an attempt to relieve her pent up stress, she shifted aside the entrance flap of the tent, before blinking in surprise. A cavern entrance, behind the tent? This was most likely not a simple coincidence.

Slowly walking deeper in, her footsteps easily heard as they echoed. "H-hello?" A nervous greeting, to whatever was hidden in the shadows.

[Assistant]
Still napping, the big bull never did notice the man approach him. But once he was tapped on the shoulder, he snorted and awoke with a bit of a start. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he sat up and looked around in a daze before settling his gaze upon the smaller human.

"Sir, the boss wants to see you. Please follow me."

"Uh, who's 'the boss?' "

"A tengu, sir. Now if you please, we're kind of in a rush."

Argrom shrugged and stood to his full height, nodding to the man as he gathered what little he had into his little satchel bag, including his half finished hat. With a wave of his hand the human bade the bull to follow, which he did obediently.

The route he followed to the tengu was long and winding, taking him through the camp through a myriad of different tents, past stalls and people and food and supplies until he reached a beige tent. Nondescript in appearance, it was the presence of guards at the entrance that gave him the hint that this wasn't what it seemed. The man opened the cloth doorflap and Argrom ducked in, a horn catching gently on the fabric. He snorted and struggled a little to free it, stumbling rather awkwardly inward as it pulled free of the tent.

Inside, the tent was merely a cover; it hid the entrance to a cave, one whose entrance was smaller than he. The bull stooped and entered sideways, his horns gently scraping against the rock as he advanced into the cave, wherein lay his...acquaintance? New friend? Employer? He didn't know. This...tengu was new to him too.

Hopefully his size wasn't too intimidating or inconvenient. His hooves clacked gently against the stone as he walked in, and soon he bumped into a lady that was in front of him, nervously plumbing the cave with a stuttered greeting to the air.

Not wanting to surprise her, he stayed quiet, though his noisy hoofsteps would've given him away anyway.

He hoped he didn't get stuck in here by virtue of him being huge.


[System]
We die a little every day and by degrees we're born into different men, older men in the same clothes, with the same scars.

---
Blood status: Pueblood

Born: 3 March, 2000

Sex: Male

Age: 24

Height: 183cm

Weight: 58kg

Sexuality: Heterosexual

---

Oh, sometimes I think it is of no use to make friends. They only go out of your life after awhile and leave a hurt that is worse than the emptiness before they came.

---

Wand: Willow, 11 inch, Dragon Heartstring

Hogwarts house: Slytherin

Accolades: Slytherin Prefect, Quiditch Team Captain (beater)

Occupation: Unemployed (he prefers the term vigilante, though.)

---

If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it.

---

Likes
+ Firewhiskey: Evander has a serious Firewhiskey craving, that many have called an addiction and tried to sort out. He always keeps a flask of it handy.
+ Wizard Chess: He has a need to play games which largely require his brain (and a lot of rules that are hard to remember.)
+ Camping (without a tent): Evander found that the best way to get back to nature was to go, what he calls, 'Open-lid camping' with a few of his friends.
+ Pastry: Evander has a strange love for treacle tarts (as any person in their right mind should.)

Dislikes
- Rebels: Evander despises people who don't follow his every command and/or the rules. Unless his commands go against the rules.
- Sympathy: He hates people trying to sympathise with him about his fathers death.
- Flying: Despite being the captain of Slytherin's Quidditch team, when he went to Hogwarts, he always had a slight phobia of flying after he had an accident in a game against Gryffindor when he was playing his last match. Thank god they actually won said match.
- Butterbeer: People actually call that crap alcohol? It's all Greek to him.

Hobbies:
* Evander loves nothing more than to go into the woods and camp out under the stars, perfectly alone. He wouldn't mind brining a girl with him one day...
* To Evander almost nothing is as entertaining as sitting down in the corner, flask of firewhiskey in hand, and just have a quiet drink. That must end in a bar fight, or else.
* Fishing is a great way, in his opinion, to get back to nature and get something to eat when you're flat broke.

---

We are all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding.

---

Patronus
Dragon

Boggart
The mask of the Death Eater who killed his father

Amortentia
Smoke, fresh bread, old books and hints of (obviously) alcohol.

Personality
Evander used to be the most friendly boy in England, when he went to Hogwarts, or for 5 years there at least. He had been called 'The Boy Next Door' many times, beacause of his happy, cheerful demeanour and seeming inability to be angry. He was quite popular and never held a grudge against anybody, many had wondered why he was put in Slytherin. At the beginning of his sixth year, they all found out.

During that summer his father was killed and his personality had a turn for the worse. He became gruff and angry, while remains somewhat aloof. He was quite quickly known as a first-class jerk, but he also gained a strangely alluring 'charm' for when he needed it most.

But inside him, he had more troubles than imaginable. He was traumatised by his fathers murder, but never told anybody about it, using drinking as an escape. Though he may be horrible, there is far much more to him than meets the eye. When nobody cares, it's hard not to get lonely.

[User]
Evader made a serious discovery. If he was to further his relasionship with this woman, he would never be able to trust her again. He would know not to. Beacause when you make a peace treaty with somebody, you don't break it as soon as you have established it.

The ropes lashed around him, squeezing his chest so tight his breath almost failed him. The tables had been unfortunately turned on him, and he almost felt guilty he strangled her. How was he supposed to tell her something when he couldn't breathe? Oh yeah, he'd tried that just earlier. It really wasn't nice. Not nice at all. His limbs writhed fruitlessly, after a good three minuets of silence he gave up.

"Evander C. Barius. That's my name. Vigilante. No, not really." He snarled through his gritted teeth. "Unemployed, layabout, Ministry dropout." He whispered contemptuously.

He tried to reach for his flask. Just fingering it would make him feel a bit better, even if he couldn't drink it. His arms were pinned to his sides, and he could just about reach it, attached to his belt. Gently scratching the sides calmed him down. He tried the take in as much air as possible. It was hard when his chest could barely move.

"I'm not the guy you should be fighting. I didn't know about any dig site, honest. All I knew was this used to be a popular hang-out for Necromancers. And more and more of them are starting to crop up. I didn't know about any dig site, honest! Let me go!" He yelled, before struggling against the ropes again.

What a day.

[Assistant]
Victoire was not a particularly forgiving woman. It was a rather nasty character flaw, she knew, but she'd never been good at letting go of grudges. People were often so quick to judge her--she didn't see the point in doing anything else unto them.

This Barius had not done anything in the past five minutes to endear him towards her.

Barius. The name snagged in her thoughts, cleared by the oxygen flooding her veins. That name was strangely familiar to her. For the first time since her would-be strangler had ruined her morning, Victoire took stock of his features. She was rather disturbed to find just how familiar he looked.

He was taller than her, but not by much. The dark coiff of his hair was tousled from their scuffle. A fire burned in his gaze, hate coiled and ready to strike. The realisation made her frown, wand lowering slightly.

His explanation made little sense to her. Necromancers? That was...an odd choice in word. It belonged more in fable than in reality, the sort of bogey man that haunted legend and ancient propaganda. Victoire knew dark magic better than most, but necromancer brought to mind Beedle the Bard's tales, not historical fact.

"Barius," Victoire repeated, an edge of curiosity entering her suspicious voice. She cocked her head to one side, appraising her prey for a long moment. Then, "You were in my year, weren't you?"

Her lips pressed into a frown. After a long moment, she flicked her wand. The ropes retreated, disintegrating into nothingness--although she had raised her wand once more, readied to fire a jinx at a moment's notice.

"You need to leave. I'll escort you to the surface. If you're lucky, you won't be charged." Nodding her head towards the massive doorway, Victoire tutted. "Go."

[User]
As the ropes disappeared from his chest and limbs, Evander half collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard and coughing. He never had the strongest of chests. His dark fringe, originally back-combed and now a tangled mess, fell over his eyes and clouded his vision. He groped for his flask and threw his head back as he took a big swig of Firewhiskey. The last drop in the flask fell into his mouth before he re-attached it to his belt and stood up.

As he stood up, he quickly looked over his ex-victim. This was most definitely the same Victoire Weasley he had gone to school with, in the looks department anyway. He stepped towards her, placing a hand on her outstretched wrist, lowering it to her side. "If we're to get along in the future, I suggest you don't do that. I also suggest you get out of here, as well, sweetie. This is no place for a lady. It's easier to get out of here than in. Come."

He hadn't heard the footsteps. He called himself a professional vigilante, and he was not able to hear the goddamn footsteps. It was just ridiculous. He hadn't heard that quiet rumble, either. Only when he turned to the exit did he notice the iron portcullis sliding down the wood of the doorway. Three shadows seemed to be present, getting larger and further away from them. They were not without company.

It was sliding with some great speed, but it wasn't going too fast to block it. Seizing some newfound courage, still clinging to Victoire's wrist, he ran to the portcullis and crouched under it, thrusting his head forwards and pushing his back up, supporting the iron grate. It slowed slightly, but cut his side, causing him to bite his sleeve to suppress a shout. With some strength he pushed Victoire to the other side of the portcullis, and started to retreat to the other side of the tomb.

"I'll be fine here. There's got to be some way to lift that thing up. Find it, please, and meet me back here. You said you would escort me out, and that you will. Now go! Oh, and stay safe, dear." He collapsed under the strain of the heavy grate and crawled the rest of the way back, pounding the ground with a numb fist.

[Assistant]
For one brief moment, Victoire considered cooperating with Evander Barius.

And then he called her sweetie, and any good will between them went to shit.

He grabbed her wrist, wrestling her wand arm down with an annoying strength that made her want to head butt him. Hexes and jinxes sprinted through her thoughts as her temper roared to life. Sweetie. A lady. Like she was some limp kneazle, some fragile flower that might wilt at the first sign of frost.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, trying to rip her wrist from his hand as he pulled her after him like a child. A child, instead of a decorated Curse Breaker, a woman who had stared down ancient magic and bent it to her will for the past six years and come out with all her limbs intact.

Her temper interfered with her senses, the veela in her veins burning, screaming in her head. Victoire noticed a moment too late that the ruins were locking them in. No, not the ruins—people. Not her colleagues, not Bulstrode. Intruders.

Victoire began to sprint, long strides easily keeping pace with Evander. He then proceeded to do something extremely daft; without hesitation, he braced the portcullis with his lanky frame. Instinct took over and Victoire slid through the disappearing gap. Half a breath later, the iron gate slammed to the stone floor with a very final sort of thud.

"Merde."

The git was locked on the other side. Rising to her feet, wand sparking to the burn of her anger, Victoire took a steadying breath. Potential solutions began to form in her head, pale eyes scouring every inch of the portcullis to hunt for clues. Her thoughts stuttered once more—dear.

"Merlin's sagging tits, I'm going to kill you myself once we're out of here," she snapped, nostrils flaring. Every instinct screamed at her to curse him halfway to next Tuesday, to leave him behind and let the damned ruin consume him, to make him pay for the insult. Reason and morals finally kicked into overdrive, and Victoire forced herself to turn away and collect herself.

In the distance there was fog, ripples of dark magic, and the faintest outline of robed figures. Her heart leapt in her chest. She had to find the others, had to warn them, protect them—

Victoire bolted, leaving only the flutter of pale hair, dark robes, and the faintest of footfalls in her wake.