[System]
Title: The Lord of the Rising Sun
Age: 34
Height: 7'2"
Weight: 499 pounds
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Eye Color: Hazel

Weapons and Equipment- His body, occasionally a set of thick six-kilo runite (a foreign metal of nigh-indestructible toughness) bracers and a pair of dragon gauntlets (a metal that is a tier above runite, also almost indestructible). He often wears the "Tzhaar-Kal-Ket", an incredibly rare and magical cloak bestowed upon those few in history who have triumphed over the brutal challenges of a terrible volcano-dwelling race known as the Tzhaar. It is impervious to heat and cold & incredibly durable to boot. He also always keeps an enchanted "Inoculation Brace" on his ankle, a magical trinket which renders him immune to harmful substances.

(Gonad with his bracers)

Appearance- Silhouetted against the burning passions of war, a figure stands tall, unmoving. His physique is as definitive as the gory victory with which his gruesome hands secure. Woven into his beard is a tapestry of blood, proclaiming the legendary tales of the countless scars adorning the sacred weapon, known as Gonad. For weapon he is, heated and hammered in the unquenchable fires of battle.

Pure unadulterated muscle. Lean muscle that ripples under his flesh like the waves of the ocean. He has muscles on his muscles. Feet Muscles. Finger muscles. Muscles in places that muscles should not be. A grisly body resembling tanned granite that might as well have been chiseled by the gods. Bulging veins, thick and course. Tendons like steel cords. Fingers like blunt iron rods. Long, sinewy limbs crafted for naught but the deliverance of phenomenal destruction. His enormous yet supple frame moves with a primal grace, the likes of which are comparable only to the untamed beasts of the wild.

His body is riddled with the innumerable wounds left by his combative livelihood. There are hundreds upon hundreds. Where the scars do not cover his body, coarse manly hair, thick and strong like steel wool, does.
He boasts a great dark gray beard speckled with the blood and bone flakes of his foes, flowing down his freakishly striated chest in thick, oily waves reminiscent of the River Styx. From it emanates the very stench of death and graverot, every bit as inescapable as his piercing glare. Within his single eye resides an undying flame, sizzling hotter than the arse-winds of Satan himself.

Personality- What attributes the primal organism known as "Gonad" bears are no different than the attributes of mother nature herself. Blood-tinged Westerlies carving jagged sluices along the tepid surface of a great and mysterious ocean, whose calm demeanor belies a vast and terrible capability. The wisdom of towering snow-capped mountains, whose interminable experience has been honed over countless millennia of wear and tear. The trepid balance between predator and prey, animal and man, intermingling to form a singular amalgamation of virile life. And yet, he maintains a feature apart from nature. Self-awareness. He lives only for pushing the boundaries of human strength and spirit, forcing himself beyond the utmost limit in extreme combat. He fears not death, nor pain, nor loss, for it is from these things that the vigor and strength of true manhood and honor spring. He revels in the pain, luxuriates in death, and basks in loss. He never will engage in dishonorable practices such as deception, and will not tolerate an unfair fight. Though he may oftentimes appear a comical fool, Gonad is truly just a simple man who very rarely premeditates an action, instead acting from the heart and without hesitation, following only the voice of his soul.

Abilities/Skills- Regarded in his home realm as the greatest martial artist and warrior to have ever lived, Gonad boasts tremendous dynamic and static strength greater than that of a wild animal. He fights through experience and instinct, capable of reacting to attacks through muscle memory before he consciously registers them. Gonad is the supreme master of his own body, and can control its functions at will. He can use the full potential of his latent strength, constrict blood vessels to keep from losing fluids, and transmit senses other than sight through his visual cortex along with a plethora of other abilities. He is capable of touching and harming incorporeal or transdimensional entities by virtue of being too ignorant to know that he shouldn't.
Gonad is a grandmaster of the berserker arts and can utilize three different forms of the technique, each one a step up from the last. These three modes are Semi Berserk, Fully Berserk, and the preeminent Primal State.
He witholds a vast array of rare and lethal wisdom and is said to know of over one-thousand ways to kill with his bare hands.

Background- Gonad is a legendary warrior who hails from the realm of Gielinor, a faraway land entrenched in fantasy and warfare. He has seen countless wars, killed countless enemies, made countless friends. To recount the barbarian's many adventures would be an exercise in futility, for the blood wrought odyssey of Gonad transcends time and experience.

Theme Music:

[User]
Gonad's hands had since fallen to his sides. As Trixi moved in for her attack, his left fist rose up before his chin. He'd have expectedly assumed a fighting pose, albiet just a half boxing stance with his legs not even spread to accommodate full punching power. A brief premonition might hit Trixi at that moment, and if it did it could very well save her from a quick loss. It would have a similar feel to the tunnel vision illusions and skilled feints that Gonad could inflict.

*A snapshot of his left fist extended across her defenseless face like a shadow cast from a lurid green twilit sun, having crossed over her right arm which was in mid-strike.*

In boxing, if you are lucky, you may bear witness to a certain kind of punch. One that barely grazes the chin pad, yet seems infused with an electric vibe of pure knockout power. A body slumps in a heap, having never known what hit them. Gonad did not need luck nor circumstance nor even a proper set up to throw one such a strike as would be studied for years by experts as a reference point to the illusive concept of a "perfect punch". Trixi would be allowed a time frame in which to stop and rethink her action. It seemed though that he was as much a teacher as a warrior, for surely the subconscious warning had been on purpose. Gonad was enjoying the courage of this one.

[Assistant]
Doctor

Some people just bashed away at a problem using the same exact tactic over and over. They would never realized how pointless it was, merely expecting the move to work at some point and become a solution, rather than a crippling weakness. In the past Trixi had been one such individual. Until her life changed and her mentality no longer helped her, instead it often left her broken along some rain soaked ditch. Still, old habits die hard. So her process of learning had been gradual but her continual need to face and smack a problem in her way, usually upside the head, had never really went away. That's not to say something her mentality didn't adapt, her bullheadedness sometimes working in her favor.

Trixi was doing what seemed to be a right, straight punch to the giant's side. When his hand lifted up to his face, her mind imagined the hand whipping out and over her outstretched arm, planting the hit right into her face side. The impact would likely send her straight into the ground with a daze and a headache at least, stopping her from getting upright for a long time. Trixi wasn't lying when she was willing to block but it didn't mean she would instantly. It didn't help that doubt lingered there in definitely at the man's merits. Her trust was a difficult thing to both earn and apply, always had been due to fear of making the same mistake. When her weight applied to her rear foot, she adjusted it closer to her right foot for balance as she extended her arm for the punch. To Gonad, or at least anyone normal, she looked like she was about to take the knockout punch instead of reconsider her options.

This wasn't the case this time.

Taking an obvious leaf from Gonad's book, her arm bent at the elbow and turned into a hook shot that fell short of her target on purpose. It seemed she might've changed her mind after all as this would happen should his fist had punched and made it past her arm, aimed directly for her face. Immediately her head pulled to the side, tilting backward some, where she would possibly feel his fist graze her skin soon. But didn't it impact directly. Her hips twisted when she felt his hand about to brush her skin, pulling her head away while she let it skim off. From his point of view it would've seen like he hit her dead on and her own stupidity had gotten her KOed. She doubted this would fool Gonad.

Meanwhile, her weight fell to the ball of her left foot while her right leg came up just when Gonad's fist nearly carried out its extension all the way to her face. If successful, and nothing changed or affected this, her kick would be directed at his upper torso side likely around his ribcage. A deep instinct stirred at the possibility he might actually grab on to her foot with either his right or left hand then crush it with a single reflex. If that happened, would prove her trust was ill placed, she thought with a sicken dread.

[User] Gonad was a grappler first and a striker second. He rarely pulled back his punches, instead often opting to use the opportunity to manipulate an opponent. Now he had one such an opportunity. He saw through the feint and stepped forwards on his left foot as Trixi kicked. His hand was at her face, she was on one leg. A good shove would be all the was needed to send her down on her back, her kick going high and probably thumping pointlessly against the vast man's bicep or shoulder. A Muay Thai kick to the calf can badly bruise, but that is if the opponent has the proper footing. If she were pushed off balance, the "oomph" would be taken right out of her attack.

[Assistant]
Doctor

What was Sam thinking putting her into this?

It wasn't the first time this thought had brushed Trixi's mind briefly throughout her time in this tourney. It was basically screaming when Gonad stepped forward and applied his weight, her eyes widen when she felt the giant advance. She was beginning to think Sam was crazier than she originally gave him credit for pushing her into this. Even worst of all, she was acting like an idiot herself and she tossed out the kick. She had made the biggest rookie mistake of all, miscalculating her options. Something she should never have done. Now she was forced to accept the end result because her own doubt and worry had rattled her ability.

Too late to adapt, she was now forced to roll with the punches. Literally. Being on one leg, she was unable to adjust her weight as her foot carried through with the kick and Gonad pushed her back. When she was first introduced to fighting, there was one thing she was made to memorize: how to fall with the least amount of damage. The moment her body's delicate balance toppled, she fell hard on her back and smacked against the hard ground, where she rolled about a foot or more away. Edging upright, her body curled to get upright, her distance from the man about three to four of her steps away.

Through she pretty much unharmed, the humiliation was more than enough to slice her inwardly. In Gonad's counters, she felt like a novice learning to fight again and that was enough to win from her past experiences. Now she was starting to understand why David used a sling instead of his fists. At the sign of her weakness, Salem's mocking voice serged to the surface. His tone and words wounding her pride even more.

'Humans are so...cute.'His grinning, horned face floated in her head while she tried to catch her breath and came to her feet. The same words he uttered when she demanded he explanation for trying to kill her. 'Ever wondered why I built you up over our years together, only to kill you? Like most humans, the tastiest are those who believe they are stronger than they really are. Those foolish enough never to accept their fate and just give up. That's why I choose you… it seems it was too easy too.'

Trixi forced herself to ignore the aches littering her surface as they quickly dulled, her eyes fixed on the massive man before with a set jaw. She spoke again. "Don't you realize you still need to touch my chest to win, or wasn't I clear on that?"

Her body pushed to the balls of her feet as she noted the visibly was getting fainter, the heat faded but the steam blanket grew thicker little by little. She estimated that at some point they wouldn't be able to see each other. That would make it impossible for either of them to continue the fight. Wondering if he knew this or not, her feet planted firmly on the balls as her hands held up just under her face in wait. She been going on the offensive most the fight, maybe it was time for a different approach.

[User]
Gonad didn't repeat the same lesson twice. The promonition of the punch had been Trixi's only chance to learn that an aggressive approach was not the right choice. The very moment Gonad was sure that Trixi was going to fall, he rushed forwards. His large hands sought to clamp upon her ankles, sifting and snaking through any kicks to locate their targets. Were she to wind up on her back with Gonad having claimed a leg in each hand, his favorite submission finisher would commence. With this move he had conquered trolls and lich lords alike. It was a technique most commonly known as the "Boston Crab", initiated by swinging one leg over a grounded opponent who was on their back after having their legs grabbed, the torque of this repositioning forcing them onto their belly as the grappler wound up facing the opposite direction, tucking the legs of the enemy securely into the armpits and then leaning backwards to effectively bend an opponent over their own body like a fold over sandwich.

Though a blow to the chest was a condition for victory, so also was forcing the opponent to either give up or be turned into a Klondike Bar.

[Assistant]
Were Trixi not to give up, Gonad would let go of her and step off to the side. He was no murderer.

"Bwah! Much potential has Fancy Girl. Come with Gonad, and reach such potential we will with much training! First, hruh, must top of Big Fight Hill be met."


[System]
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Appearance: "Heheheee~ Don't go back that way, it's-"*BOOM*"-... Right on time! :D"
Abilities: Milly is, in spite of her young age, an explosives expert with an in-depth knowledge of how to brew just about anything you might need for demolition. She knows how to make small explosives, big explosives, explosives that will stick to a surface, explosives that will just flash without actually causing damage, if you need something blown up, Milly is the one to ask. She's also rather capable of laying traps, provided they involve explosives. She is also adept at predicting when an explosion will occur, and as she is familiar with the scent of gunpowder she can detect it by smell very easily. Due to her small size, Milly is also decent at infiltration, provided she gets to blow something up at the end.
Personality: Milly is rather friendly and enthusiastic, and eager to talk. Well, eager to talk about one specific thing. Explosives. Milly loves to talk about explosives. This may be because of her near-obsession with them and her tendency to use them for just about any purpose no matter what it is. Distractions, breaking through a lock, fighting, Milly uses explosives to do just about anything they could possibly be used for. She adores explosions to the point of almost lusting for a fiery blast of destruction, which likely drives her work to make more and more explosives. She is eager to help out the crew... by building explosives and explosive traps. However, she can also be rather temperamental and quick to anger. She is much more patient with constructing new bombs then she is with people in most cases. She dislikes her nickname of "Minnie" as she is self-conscious about her small size and underdeveloped appearance. However, she is confident she will grow out of it, insisting she is simply a late bloomer and in a year or two she will be even more mature in build then any of the other girls in the crew. Her payback towards those who anger her tends to vary, from planting flashbang traps in their room to putting small explosive traps under their bed, the former for friends and the latter for enemies.
Bio: Descended from a long line of explosives experts, Milly's purpose in life is derived from the success of her family in the field. To put it simply, Milly feels the need to display her explosives knowledge. Born to Eric and Danielle Nobel, Milly grew up learning about explosives. Indeed, from a young age, she grew more and more obsessed with them. Sadly, she suffered from illness early in life, which she insists explains her "late bloomer" status. She has long since recovered from her illness, and insisted in venturing out into the world to display her explosives knowledge. It became especially important to her after the accidental death of her father six years ago, which many people attributed to a mistake with his explosives. Adamant that her father would never make such a mistake, Milly left in order to prove the knowledge he passed to her was not the knowledge of someone who would have killed themselves with their own work. Admittedly she also left in order to blow up more things, but the original, chief purpose, the one closest to her heart, is to prove herself and prove her father did not make a mistake that cost him his life.

[User]
As Melody finished assigning the orders, Char let go Jon's arm, "Ah... How noble of you, Jon-sama, to sacrifice your time for the others..." she said, swooning. Either she wasn't so perceptive or was feigning ignorance, there was no way for them to be sure.

Then, Char went bellow the deck and picked a hooded cloak. It wasn't the most conspicuous cloth ever, given the elaborate brocade that lined the cloak's edge, but it would still be able to hide her face in case the bounty hunters that her father sure must have sent to find her were on port. Also, who would suspect of someone wearing fancy clothes on a pirate port? "The best place to hide a tree is in a forest..." Her father said, when teaching her how to evade taxation, the fact that he was so good a teacher that his lessons could be used against him was quite the irony in Char's opinion.

Nevertheless, when Char got back at the deck she said, "Minnie-san, please take care of Jon-sama for me, you're the only person that I trust to do that on this ship." Hidden within Char's words was the message, "Since you two wouldn't be doing anything with this sorrowful body, anyway. Hehehe."
Then Char strode happily towards the port, while saying (a little louder than needed), "Now then, Pico what should we do today? I know it, I was really needing a new bra, anyway..." Before striding into the city.

[Assistant]
"Wh-what?"

She... she was going to stay behind on the ship?! But that sucked! She wanted to go into the port, too... Milly frowned deeply, and couldn't even open her mouth before her captain lept off the side of the boat and headed into town. That just... just... Hmph. All that the tiny white-haired girl could think is that Melody better make it up to her, whether it be through explosives, sweets, the potential new crew member being a pretty girl(they were nicer to look at then the male crew members, that was for sure), or the new potential new crew member being a pretty girl carrying explosives and sweets.

... Actually, that last possibility was really something, especially the explosives. Milly wasn't entirely sure why the thought of pretty girls carrying explosives made her so happy. Then again, she did like pretty girls(and feel a bit jealous of some of them even if she totally was just a late bloomer) and explosives independently, though she didn't express the former as much as the latter(it got a little embarrassing sometimes, what would people think? After all, no-one ever thought she was strange or weird now, right? Right?). Maybe both together was some kind of multiplier.

Of course, Milly was swiftly snapped out of her rather odd thought process when Charlotte yet again called her "Minnie" her long twintails seeming to move on their own from the sheer force of her irritation, her slight hands balled into fists and thrust down at her sides as she leaned towards the other girl, who proceeded to add insult to injury and mention that she was planning on buying a new bra. "Grrr... you... you..."

So irritated was the explosives-loving girl, that the only retort she could think of was sticking her tongue out, before folding her arms and swiftly turning away with a pout.

... At least there was whatever Johnathan had wanted to show her... maybe whatever explosive it surely was would make up for all this? ... And time to lay traps... Oh, she could have some fun with that...

She could even see how many she could pack into Charlotte's room. Not anything lethal, of course, but flashbangs were unpleasant and left a clear 'Don't call me Minnie' message.

[User]
~Song~

With a flick of her hair, she smoothly brushed past Jonathan, not even acknowledging his pleas for help.

Heading off into the city, she made a checklist of things she needed to get done. She needed her sword sharpened, wanted to pick up some apothecary supplies, and if she could find any, could definitely use some more paper for folding…

~Jonathan~

He huffed. He sighed. He harrumphed. He cleared his throat, folded his arms over his chest, and watched the rest of the crew depart off into Falis Island. How dreadful. Especially if Waldemar would return with a triumphant smile, victorious in his romancing.

Adjusting the lapels of his coat in resignation, he turned to Milly, who seemed flustered at first, but suddenly brightened up on her own. "Well, I suppose you and I will just have to find some way to entertain ourselves for six hours," he said, with a defeated smirk. "It wouldn't do to just sit around and stare at the port all day."

He then remembered what he had said to Milly earlier that morning. "Oh. Actually, follow me. I'll show you what I was talking about earlier."

Jonathan made to descend below deck with Milly in tow, heading to his room. As he walked, his cocky demeanor began to fall away a bit, replaced with a calm, clear minded expression. He had no intention of wooing the young white haired girl, so he dropped the show. If one were to meet Jonathan in this state, they would mistakenly assume that he was a respectable, humble gentleman.

"Ah here we are," Jonathan said as they reached his room. "I apologize in advance for the mess, but I was up late last night working, and nodded off without realizing."

He opened the door, revealing that his cabin was far from a mess. In fact, it nearly sparkled from cleanliness. His years of growing up in a pristine mansion had caused him to become unnerved when things were out of place, so he impulsively took it upon himself to ensure that his bed was tightly made, and nothing littered the floor. Though it was small, Jonathan's adept eye for spacing made his room appear a bit larger than it actually was. An elegant lamp gently lit the room, highlighting the subtly ornate rug that Jonathan had spread across the floor. In the corner was a neatly arranged desk with resistors, power supplies, gears, and all sorts of mechanical-electrical components laid out for easy reach. A strange disk like contraption sat in the center of the workspace.

"Now this, Ms. Nobel, is what I call the roto-bomber, for lack of an official name," Jonathan said proudly, as he picked the gadget up and spun it around in his hands. "An effective combination of an impact spring mechanism with timed charge pump ignition, if I do say so myself. I spent quite a bit of time perfecting the timing delay across the resistor network to match the ignition to the release time, and I also put a tremendous amount of thought into making sure the centripetal force detection didn't accidentally--"

"Ah," Jonathan stopped himself, realizing that he was about to fall into tinkering mode and bore Milly to death. He got a bit too excited about his own inventions.

"Well, really, the point of all this is to say that when you throw the roto bomber like a discus, the mechanism inside will cause it to greatly accelerate rotation and go farther than you could normally throw it," said Jonathan, demonstrating how to toss it. "Inside, the roto-bomber carries 12 small spheres for each orientation on the clock face, which you can time the release of. Upon release, the 12 spheres will self-ignite and be launched a calibrated distance between 10 to 30 feet away from the disk. I'm sure you can understand the value proposition in this invention- essentially, it's a small timed bomb with a potential 100 foot effective blast radius."

Jonathan pulled out one of the spheres. "Now this is where I'd gladly appreciate your assistance," he said, handing the sphere to her. "I must admit that I'm not quite the expert in incendiaries that you are, and I was hoping that you'd be able to choose the right sort of explosive substances to fill these with, so that optimum blast radius can be achieved without destroying the roto-bomber itself. Assuming that the roto-bomber doesn't self implode, it should be indefinitely reusable."

Through all of this though, Jonathan had left the top of the ship unguarded...

[Assistant]
Simone smirked at Jon's anguish in his situation. He might have felt bad for him if Jon wasn't so easy to laugh at. He wasn't a bad guy by any means, in fact Simone found him rather interesting, but he was just too easy a target sometimes. Oh well, nothing he could do. He adjusted his coat to make sure it wouldn't be uncomfortable as he thought of what they needed. Once he finished with his adjustments he nodded at Jon and Milly as he began to get off deck.

"I'll bring back something tasty for you two, something spicy maybe? Au revoir." He called out to the now guards as he got off of the ship and onto the port, also making his way to the city. He inhaled deeply and sighed contently. New city, new possibilities. He planned on tracking down some type of food market and getting some supplies, but he might need help getting all if it back to the ship. After that, the world was his oyster. Maybe he'd grab something to drink to cool himself down, if this weird crew could manage to keep itself out of trouble long enough for him to do that. Maybe a fight wouldn't break out today, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. As he thought more, he suddenly remembered something.

"Any special requests for food before I buy it and you guys get pissed because I didn't get anything you like? Nothing over the top, but I can splurge a bit here." He called out to the crew before they separated too much from each other so they could hear him. "If not I'll work something out." He shrugged nonchalantly.

[User]
Waldemar Von Richtig
Waldemar was a honorable man and went off first to secure medicinal herbs. The nobleman had not lied when he said that they were low; a serious wound without them could lead to a crew member's death via infection. Death by infection was only suitable for devils and Johnathan, and not a single other person.

He didn't reply to the question about food; in all honesty Waldemar trusted both Char's and the normal cook's prowess in the kitchen. If one thing was good about the ship, it was the luxury cuisine with every meal.

[Assistant]
Milly was rather eager to follow Johnathan down to his work desk, the thoughts of rigging Charlotte's room with flashbang traps pushed to the back of her mind. She was even more eager when Johnathan revealed his device. Something of an inventor herself(albeit with a much more narrow field and none of her inventions being intended to survive their usage), she was fascinated, and naturally the applications got her excited. So much brilliant fiery destruction in a massive circle all around the disk! Aaah, it was enough to make desire swell in her heart, desire to cause things to erupt into brilliant fireballs and leave destruction in their wake... But naturally, she had to give her advice.

Of course, Milly had plenty of experience with creating explosives that were purpose-built. Most could blow out in any direction, but in other cases there needed to be some more finesse. Taking down a door, for example, required the explosive force to be directed to the door and no-where else. Well, unless Milly didn't care about damaging whatever was around the door. There'd been a few times where she stuck a sticky bomb to the handle and lit it without a second thought.

Eyes shining with excitement, the tiny girl began.

"That's amazing!" she cried, "A circular explosive delivery system... a complete three-hundred-sixty degree range... Haaah~ I can feel my heart beating faster and faster just thinking about using this thing!"

Her cheeks flushed and her hands at her sides, Milly was practically shaking with just how eager she was to be able to test the device out. "... Of course, you couldn't use it at close range unless there was some way to only trigger the explosives facing away from you, which is defeating the main purpose of the disc shape in the first place... if you used shaped charges you could direct the blast outwards and the disc wouldn't be harmed, but that could be tricky... the payload you'd need is hard to judge without seeing how far it can shoot the explosives out... but this is still amazing!"


[System]
Codename: Washington

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Armour Ability: Teleportation

Implanted A.I.: Epsilon

Appearance:

Personality: Jacobs is an optimistic guy who always sees the funny side of a dangerous situation. He hates being wrong and doesn't appreciate being corrected (Even when he is wrong). Jacobs can be very cocky and overestimate an opponent, situation or even his own skills. Taking on tasks that are far too difficult for him alone, he can be very stubborn and will not admit when he needs help or even ask for it. Even with all this he keeps his head and always thinks about the objective and how to achieve it.

History: Jacobs had an ordinary childhood, nothing truly special. Brought up on military drills and weapon stripping he has known nothing but UNSC and the pride he would bring his family fighting for the UNSC. His family were quick to distrust the Elites joining humanities caused and this xenophobia rubbed off on Jacobs. Once he was of age he was shipped straight off to the nearest UNCS barracks to begin his training.

Fast forward several years and Jacobs found himself fighting an innumerable foe know as the flood and in charge of his own six man squad. Called the greatest threat to the galaxy Jacobs fully understood why. During one particular battle in which Jacobs and five other men had to protect and hold a comms array Jacobs finally saw the elite in a positive light. During the fighting Jacobs lost all of his men too the monstrous creatures with his back against the wall he saw his fellow soldiers rise up and turn on him. Seeing no way out he pulled the pin on a grenade and held it to what was left of his helmet.

Before he could finish himself the Elite reinforcements arrived in a rain of plasma fire. Throwing the grenade into the horde he watched as the Elite forces swept through the sea of flood systematically slaughtering this great threat. With the threat eliminated Jacobs thanked the Elites for their help. A few months later he was put forward for the Freelancer Project.

Weapon loadout:
MA2B Assault Rifle with built in bayonet.

M363 Remote Projectile Detonator.

M6G Pistol.

Combat Knife.

x3 Fragmentation Grenade.

x2 Flash Grenades Grenades.

Fighting Style: Jacobs fights up close and personal using his personalised Assault rifle mixed with his large variety of martial arts.

[User]
The Director looked over the agents with hidden curiosity. They were all either quiet or engaging in mindless chit-chat to pass the time. The Director smiled as he looked over the files that were on his desk. "Jacob Huntington? Fairly dull background to the collection of people here. But still someone to keep an eye on. Counselor, what happened to the last shipment of experimental weapons. Binary rifles? Was that there name?"

The Counselor looked at his PDA and sighed. "I am sorry to report sir but they are currently in rebel hands, they ambushed the delivery ships and stole the cargo."

The Director slammed his fist down on the table making the Counselor jump. "God damn it! These rebels stealing everything I try to get delivered! No matter. A perfect first mission for our new recruits however training time first. Then mission briefs." Pressing a button on his desk a woman's voice spoke out across the large hall, the voice had a robotic tinge in the way it spoke as she addressed the Agents in the large hall, who had now gone quiet.

"Welcome you are one of 49 elite military members who have been chosen for the new Freelancer project. We hope that you have gotten your self comfortable to listen to this recording as you will need to listen very carefully! You will no longer be know by your Civilian names, instead you will be addressed by your new code name which will have been assigned to you before you entered this hall. This must be used at all time this is for your safety! Before entering live combat you will be hooked up with various armour enhancements and an extremely Valuable AI. This AI is suited to you and will help you use your new abilities safely and efficiently.

Working together is crucial to completing your objective and scoring high in the leaderboards. The leaderboards track your personal progress throughout your missions. No matter where you are on the leaderboard you will not be treated any differently, these leaderboards are for The directors and the boards feedback as to how well the Project is running. There are a few rules that must be followed:

AIs must not communicate with each other.

No contact to the outside is allowed via any mode of communication.

Use of live weapons or abilities unless inside a training zone or on a mission is prohibited.

Obey any orders given to you by the Director or Counselor.

Thank you for your patience the Director will now address you".

The Directors voice followed the woman's after a short pause. "Good morning agents. To assess who is going to be implanted with what A.I. we will begin this morning with a round of sparring. We will be assessing how you fight and act individually and together. Your opponents will be military grade Mechanoids with military A.I.. You will be outnumbered two to one so take this into account. Please make your way towards the training facility now."

The training facility in question was a large room filled with a simulation battle environment made to look like an abandoned village. All of the agents would be able to use live round however their armour abilities would be disabled. Their opponents stand at the other side of the room, black suits of armour armed with simulation rounds that pack a hell of a punch but are not lethal.

Washington was the first in, looking at situation he grimaced. "Man, robots punch like heavyweight boxers and take as much punishment as a tank. Not fair."

Once all the agents were in a horn buzzed signaling the start of the exercise. The robots jumped to life taking up defensive position and throwing smoke grenades in front of them to cover their advance and Advance they did. Slowly moving forwards preparing to engage whoever got close.

Washington looked over at the rest of the agents. "Hey guys and gals names Washington, these robots are going to be a bitch to take down. Word to note they'll keep on going even if you knock of their heads. They can take information from other bots to see so if one sees you they all see you. Only reason I know so much about these bastards is this ain't my first rodeo with them. Got stuck in a training simulator with two of them, they beat me good. So don't get caught and if you do have to hit them then hit them as hard as you fucking can! Apart from that..." Washington pulled the pin on a grenade. "Have fun!" Vaulting over the wall he had been hiding behind he threw the grenade into the crowd of machines. They jumped away from the explosive and Washington was there to meet them blasting one in the arm with his AR he was met with a punch to the gut sending him flying over a wall. "Son of a bitch!"

[Assistant]
As he watched Washington get thrown back over the wall Georgia grinned inside his helmet. "Worst charge ever. Of all time." He muttered to himself. Georgia's first reaction was to back away as far as he could, preferably onto another planet, but that was hardly an option right now so instead he let himself fall backwards as he fired a burst from his rifle into the closest robot, letting the recoil propel him into a backwards roll which gained him a good couple of meters, and ended up with him standing beside a tall pillar.

Quickly rolling on his heel the armoured warrior spun into the cover just as a smattering of return fire smacked into it, showering him with fragments of the tough material. "Hey, wait a sec, are they using live ammo too?" He called into his radio, asking anyone and everyone at once. If this really was going to be an unfair advantage from the get-go then the recruits wouldn't stand a chance.

It can't be as simple as that, Georgia thought to himself, letting his eyes gaze around the room as he leaned back against the pillar, feeling the reverberations of weapons impacts on the far side while looking for some sort of advantage hidden in the terrain that he might be able to use. This is supposed to be a test after all, and they wouldn't have shipped us all out here just to kill us.

[User] The previous night Virginia hacked into security cameras and had them linked to her HUD. She watched the robots on her HUD from behind a wall. She studied their reactions times. She took an empty magazine and threw it when none were looking her way. The distraction provided her an opportunity she grabbed the closest robot. She used her assault rifle's armor penetrating rounds to put a hole through the torso. She watched as the other robots turned to attack. She used the robot as a shield.

[Assistant]
With a roaring battlecry Idaho charged straight towards the approaching robots, bullets from her full-auto burst of fire ripping into the chest of one before she barrelled into a second and brought her rifle round to blast its head and torso until her ammo counter read empty.

Rolling forwards into cover of a low wall Kimmie quickly release the spent clip and slammed home a fresh one before reaching down to her waist and grabbing a grenade. Holding it for a couple of seconds, cooking it in her hand as she silently counted off the timer, she lobbed it over the wall into the next wave of robots. Looking up she suddenly spotted a robot looming over her, its arm raising to hammer down on her with brutal force just before something clattered on the floor behind it.

Exile

As the robot's head snapped around, searching for the cause of the sound, Virginia slammed into it, grabbing the robot tightly as she blasted its torso apart. Tapping her faceplate in salute to her colleague Kimmie smiled inside her helmet. "Thanks for the save," She called into her radio excitedly, "Fancy double teaming the rest of these tin cans?" Without waiting for a response Idaho leapt over the wall, laughing loudly as she fired another full-auto burst into the incoming robots, catching them off guard as they turned to target Virginia.

[User]
Spotting what he needed Georgia leapt out from behind the pillar, quickly dodging from cover to cover until he reached a high tower set back from the rest of the field. A quick glance back at the rst of the team told him that him colleagues were keeping the robots busy enough for him to try something a little creative, so firing up his booster Georgia launched himself up into the air before landing with a roll on the top of the high platform. He hated using the jetpack, it was tricky to control at the best of times, and during a firefight it could be lethal to someone not concentrating on it fully.

Looking down Georgia smiled. He knew there'd be something like this hidden around the place there always seemed to be in every training arena. Dropping his assault rifle he picked up the sniper rifle instead and waited a moment for his suit HUD to register the change in weapon before lifting it up and taking aim.

His first shot took out the leg of a robot trying to flank Virginia and Idaho, coming round the back of one of the large blocks out of their line of sight. As it fell its weapon fired off, sending a stream of bullets passed the girls harmlessly. The second shot smashed through the top of the robot's head, down into its chest, leaving it sprawled lifelessly on the ground. "One down, lots to go..." The sniper muttered, turning his sights onto the next target.

[Assistant]
"Yeah whatever," Montana said facing down one bot ",Time to lay the pain train on this hunk of junk. Good think I can return the same hits they can give." To prove his point, he ran forward at the bot he was facing, landing a bone shattering blow onto the robots head. Normally a hit like that would perhaps knock a person out for the count. Montana was surprised that the punch didn't just drop the bot and had little time to react when the robot punched him back, sending him skidding across the ground.

"Okay maybe these bots do pack a punch," he grumbled to himself as he got himself back open and getting his bearings back ",Fine but lets see how they like meeting Scorn." With that he with drew his trusty shotgun, something he had kept with him over the years ever since he was given it from the military. It was one item he never leaved without and if anyone dared to try and steal it, they wouldn't be walking for awhile after wards when Montana caught them. He aimed at the bot coming towards him and fired, blowing a hole through it's chest, but not even that seemed to stop these machines. The bot fell onto the ground seemingly lifeless, making Montana feel smug but after a few seconds of laying still it just got up again.

"Great so apparently we will be fighting the undead," Montana said and then shrugged ",Oh well means more action for me." He charged forward again, enjoying the thrill he was getting going toe to toe with a force that could match his strength. It got quite dull winning a fight with one punch sometimes so now having something he could beat to death was far more entertaining. As he approached the bot another jumped onto him from behind but it hardly fazed Montana and he kept going, now having a passenger on his back as he slammed his gun full force into the bot in front of him that he had started this fight with, nearly detaching it's head. Once he dealt with that he grabbed the robot from his back and threw it across the room.

"That's a home run," he said before turning around to see the headless robot get up again ",Right I forgot you can still fight without the head perfect." Today was going to be a long and fun day for him to enjoy as he got ready to spar the bot once more.


[System]
"Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me", I said "you're holding back", she said "shut up and dance with me!"
Face Claim: Kay Panabaker
Age: 11
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Date/Place of Birth: July 13th, 1998. Swindon.
Currently: Hogwarts
House: Gryffindor
Wand: Dogwood, 6 ¾", Phoenix Feather. Springy and excitable.
Patronus: Will be a Stoat
Personal
Childhood/Family Life: Sadie's childhood has been hard work. Raised on the family farm, Sadie is well acquainted with long days and extensive studying. An excellent student, she often ranked in the top ten in her coursework.
Exceptionally close to her mother, Sadie's most cherished memories are their numerous outings and girly nights. Sadie nurtured a mechanical streak with her father, helping him maintain aging farm equipment. Her relationship with her brother Brennan has always been strained, their personalities too similar to allow them to get on.

Personality: Bubbly, excitable, and prone to mischief, Sadie has a loud personality. Often bouncing between four different thoughts, she is often mistaken as a brainless ditz. Beneath her cheery exterior, however, lies a deeply curious mind and fiery determination. Passionate, dedicated, and fiercely protective of her friends, Sadie's sharp wit is a weapon in and of itself.

Hobbies: Video games, geo-caching, studying, calligraphy, cards.

[User]
Sadie wasn't sure she really understood what House Elves were, or what "live to work" meant, but it seemed a little troubling. She bit her tongue, because she got the sense she wouldn't quite like the answer and she didn't want to stir up trouble. She'd just gotten here and made friends. She didn't want to ruin everything on her first night in the castle.

Sadie busied herself with her dinner, listening as George enthused about Seine's dad. Famous then, she deduced, looking over at him. Seine grinned a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. Wow, she'd never met anyone famous in her life. Sadie drained her pumpkin juice, listening intently. She was going to learn everything-- she detested this feeling of being lost, of others having to fill in the blanks for her. Brennan had told her the library here was a monstrosity, and she was eager to find it.

"Yeah, that's my old man. He just took a contract for the World Cup next summer, so that'll be fun," he sounded proud and excited, and Sadie bit back the bitter taste of envy for a smile. It was silly—she couldn't change her humble beginnings, so there was no point in being jealous. Sadie almost believed herself.

Sadie listened as George explained his mum's theory behind ghosts, watching a stream of pearlescent figures streaming in. A beautiful woman floated to the table of blue and bronze, and man with trailing chains to the far end of the room. Sadie rather liked the jolly friar moving along his table. He reminded her a bit of Father Elliot from church, who had always been kind and welcoming.

As brilliant as this was, Sadie found herself missing St. Catherine's. This was amazing and shining and the food was wonderful and magic... but it felt so frighteningly large, and Sadie felt so very small here. St. Catherine's had been strict, but it had been calm and kind.

Dinner concluded well over an hour later, and Sadie had never eaten so much before in her life. Her stomach hurt, but she firmly regretted nothing. The pretty prefect and the grumpy one were calling for first years, and Sadie fell in obediently behind them. Xia He was explaining the path to the common room, the importance of passwords and various other things. Sadie was busy studying the moving portraits and gasping as the stairs moved beneath her—not like an escalator, the whole bloody staircase was moving!

They had stopped at a portrait of an exceptionally fat, but elegant, lady garbed in luxurious pink robes.
"Password?" she intoned, touching the crown of flowers in her hair and smiling coquettishly.
" _Acta non verba_," Xia He spoke clearly, and the portrait swung open wide to reveal a beautiful circular room. Sadie smiled at the crushed crimson velvet and gold and overstuffed arm chairs. She waved to George and Seine as she followed the girls to a staircase on the right. She smiled at a girl with a beautiful red hijab and a blonde who was nearly half a foot taller than the rest of them.

Their dorm was gorgeous. Handsome four poster beds with crimson and gold draping stood around the room, with their names stitched in elegant golden cursive. Sadie beamed, testing her bed with a bounce. Ooh, nice!

"Wow," a curly haired girl commented, running a hand over the mahogany of her bed. "This is nice."

"It's brilliant," Sadie agreed, sliding off her bed. She extended her hand, the shorter girl shaking it with a polite smile. "I'm Sadie."

"Tasia," she looked around the room questioningly. The lanky blonde blushed, stammering.

"G-Gail Mascolo. Nice to meet you."

"Maryam," chirped the girl with the pretty headscarf, looking up at the ceiling, where a beautiful carving of fire connected all the decorative silk from the walls. It looked as if it were actually burning, and Sadie decided she quite liked these accommodations.

"Rosamund," a curly redhead nodded, digging in her trunk for something or other. A brunette lingering near her arched a brow, arms folded.

"Holly," she remarked cautiously, almost suspiciously, and Sadie turned to smile at a quiet girl with coppery braids assigned to the bed next to hers.

"Asenath," she murmured, looking almost alarmed as Sadie bounced for joy.

Sadie had not had many girlfriends before in her life, but here, sitting on the floor of the common room with the other girls and laughing over stories, she finally felt properly at ease in the castle.

[Assistant]
George smiled and laughed, joining in like any normal child would.
"No way! Are you going? My Mum's trying to get us all tickets for the Final. It's in Denmark, but it doesn't take long to get there, so it shouldn't matter. Be cold, mind." He commented, taking a sip of his soup again. The room around him was more alive than he'd ever expected it to be. More friendly and cheerful. Certainly more welcoming than he'd pictured. It may have only been a few hours and tomorrow may be the beginning of their real lessons, but he could already feel how amazing everything was going to be. They were all going to be friends for their entire school lives. He could feel it. Sadie wouldn't have trouble making new friends and he was glad she'd made the effort to chat to Seine. He was a good kid, he could see it already. George hoped he'd at least be sharing a room with him. He wasn't even sure how many he had to share a room with. He'd never shared a room before. What if his stuff wasn't safe?

He stood up with the rest of his House when everyone sprang to life once more. He joined the bustle as hundreds of children and teenages tried to leave the giant doors together and all at once. He followed suit, keeping close behind Sadie and Seine. He spotted a house dressed in yellow disappear down a hall just to the right of him before watching another horde descend down some stairs. That just left themselves and Ravenclaw to ascend on the staircase that seemed to rotate and move! George watched along with those around him, some spotting the moving stairs above them, whilst others gawked at the moving paintings. He gave a short laugh at the sight of Sadie's reactions to everything. Muggleborns were the funniest.

Soon the troop slowed down, reaching a complete stop before a strange looking painting. He couldn't see much behind all those infront of him but soon heard a rich voice, old and firm. He tried to make mental note of the password and followed everyone inside. He peered over the shoulders of some of the taller students and gaze around a room clad in red and a vivid gold, lions on each wall and paintings that walked about, trying to see all the new students. He heard something about splitting up and gave Sadie a brief wave in goodbye. He felt a pang of anxiety and kept close to Seine. The other students were going to be as nice as the two he'd already made friends with but there was nothing certain about it.

Climbing up the stairs, he counted the small group of boys to be about five, including himself. He didn't dare look back to try and work it out. They were guided into a room with thick wooden beds, each clad with red again. He would probably grow sick with the colour in time, but this was really it. This was his home. He followed Seine inside and spotted his trunk against one bed, shining a thick, expensive looking leather, silver straps covering the top, contrasting against the gold well. He walked over to his own bed and sat down, taking a moment to realise it was all happening. This really was it. He pulled his wand from his robes, running a hand over the white wood before placing it down on the cabinet by his pillow. He looked about the room at the boys he'd be spending his years with, smirking at the fact most of them had already started talking.

Brent was the first name he noticed. A stocky lad with thick bushing eyebrows, who sat opposite Seine, juggling a pair of socks in his hands. A thinner and shorter boy with a considerably round face introduced himself next, his voice quieter than anyone expected.
"Lincoln." He stammered, slipping down onto what would be his bed. George watched Seine introduce himself next, leaving just George and another boy, who seemed cheery and a little over-weight.
"Devon." He smiled. George quickly judged him to be over-confident and possibly prone to accidents and many failures over the next coming years. Finally, George spoke his name, avoiding looking at everyone in the room. Instead, he chose two and flicked between them both before looking back down at the ground.

Slowly they all settled in, unpacking and decorating, chatting and sharing sweets. It took some time before himself and Lincoln began to relax around the others. Brent spent too much time talking about quidditch and Devon seemed too interested in being everyone's friend. Yet it was Lincoln who George found more interesting. They sat and discussed Duelling more than anything else that night, sharing magazines and chatting teams and favourites. Before too long, everyone was yawning and growing sleepy. One by one, they retired, changing into pajamas and climbing into bed.

George didn't dream that night, or at least he couldn't remember it. Instead he awoke feeling tired and rushed as the room about him all hurried to get dressed into their Gryfindor robes and scurrying down to breakfast. George grabbed his wand and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, perching on armchair whilst he waited for Sadie and Seine.


[System]
FC: KEIYNAN LONSDALE :P
Age: 16
Gender: M
DNA: Great White Egret (Ardea alba), White Winged Vampire Bat (Diaemus youngi)

Personality:

Dizzy isn't selfish, more so he's simply thoughtless and short sighted with an unhealthy side dish of oblivious. He likes his solitude and space, often resulting in a noticeable rift between him and the rest of the Flock, but he's not heartless or uncaring, and secretly he does enjoy the love and comfort of his peers, he just doesn't like to encourage them lest they get carried away. He has a brave and adventurous streak as well, enjoying exploration and daring to toe the rules.

Appearance:

Dizzy is short for his kind, but average on the whole. He enjoys a rather athletic build, excelling in the fitness trials. He has thick dark hair, warm brown skin, and wide dark eyes. He is hardly ever seen without either his tinted training goggles or his pair of cheap shades, designed to help him function in normal lighting without blinding his sensitive eyes. Smiles are few and far between, hiding his unusually straight teeth due to their less than human appearance, each of them pointedly sharp, making his genuine smiles small and unrevealing, and his wide grins more threatening. His wings are thick with curling soft white feathers, and they have a trim of even brighter white along the wing tips. His clothing choices are not typically form fitting, often consisting of worn, ripped, or faded articles that are too small or too large, but he hordes bright colors and trendy accessories, like earrings and bandanas.

Other:

Dizzy's name is well earned, he was often confused and not quite 'all there' as a kid. "What?" is still his catch phrase even years after he overcame his 'dizzy spells.' Combining this and his easily distracted mind with his uncomfortably precise hearing and tendency to be blinded by even mediocre lighting and Dizzy did indeed spend quite a lot of time being dizzy.

His unusual attributes, the ones outside the norm for the Flock, include weaknesses as well as strengths; such as his supernaturally advanced hearing, and the drawback of being overly sensitive to loud noises and easily distracted by faraway sounds. Similarly his night vision is better than most humans can see in the day, but even average day-time or artificial light levels can blind him. Dizzy also has a not so subtle vampire's bite, with many of his teeth being unusually pointed, specifically his canines and first premolars, and his saliva is full of powerful anticoagulants which make his bite likely to make his opponent bleed out if they aren't careful. Dizzy's fangs aren't the only sharp weapon in his body's repertoire though, he also has a set of mean claws, unassuming at first glance, but subtly hooked and thick, strong and sharp enough to tear skin, if only to make shallow cuts. Of his more relative to the Flock skills, Dizzy has taken to flying and strength with great talent, but flounders when made to apply too much grace or agility, however he does have an impressive sprint, and a positively predatory leap.

History:

At his youngest the scientists neglected Dizzy, leaving him to his own devices apart from the few times they attempted to make him pay attention to lectures or get concrete answers on his tests out of him, but usually he was simply subjected to basic scans and assessments before being left in his cage to amuse himself- which he did, listening to everything going on rooms away and playing with his food and generally avoiding the other children. Finally he was deemed old enough to be given proper medication for his inattention, and after a slew of vomit- and fever-inducing drug trials, they worked out a specially tailored attention-boosting drug just for him. Eventually he outgrew the 'dizzy spells' and no longer needed it, culminating in a nasty bout of withdrawal when they stopped giving it to him, but for the majority of his childhood he needed aids and special treatment the other children didn't- and was constantly reprimanded and made to pay for it.

He was sensitive to light, he could see all the right colors- mostly, sometimes purple was iffy - but his eyes couldn't process the excess brightness and resulted in copious amounts of squinting and shielding his eyes before finally someone bought him a cheap pair of sunglasses from the supermarket, and then eventually a pair of tinted pool goggles from the same place when the glasses kept falling off during physical training. Alarms and too-loud simulations quickly overwhelmed him, causing him such pain as to collapse screaming and clutching at his ears, the persistent ringing staying with him for days afterward, and so the scientists gave him ear plugs, which he constantly lost, resulting in the Flock finding a lone misplaced earbud in their personal space on a regular basis no matter where they went or what they were doing.

About the time puberty struck Dizzy began to make great strides in overcoming his 'disabilities', building up a resistance to louder and louder noises, and maintaining some sense of sight in most well-lit rooms, though both situations left him extremely uncomfortable and often with the dull throb of constant pain behind his eyes and in his ear drums. Other changes came to him, his adult teeth had been coming in oddly shaped for a while then, but the last of them pushed through as a set of questionably unsubtle fangs, and his tests revealed unique properties in his saliva. It was then that he stopped being the failure runt of the litter, setting off to training and exams with something to prove; and for his efforts he began excelling in class and on the mat, mostly on par with the rest of Flock for once, sometimes even managing to edge out the others and make the top score.

Going on seventeen Dizzy has both settled into his skin, and not. He feels awkward and estranged from the others, having taken much longer to tie that familial bond, and then saddled with the need to prove he was just as good as them he'd stepped on more than one set of toes, and fended off more than one kind gesture. He's much less moody these days, not as standoffish, but distant all the same. He's as invested in this gamble for freedom as any of them, but if anyone's most likely to wander off without a word and never be heard from again, it would be Dizzy. An unlikely scenario, he'd be lonely, and for all his eye-rolling and hasty retreats for a moment of solitude, he does care for his kin... he just maybe also cares for going to the cinema by himself, without telling anyone. And the beach. And maybe that flashy distracting concert down the street. Also, those cats are cute and he may spend a few hours following them around town if left unsupervised, and really who needs supervision? Not Dizzy, that's for sure. (Dizzy. Dizzy needs supervision.)

---

[User]
---

---

Crash noticed the odd look he was getting from Dizzy who volunteered to join him on a hunt. He was never too sure what was going on in Dizzy's head but he liked the kids attitude, always down to have some fun. He eyed Dizzy wondering what the guy was grinning about and before he had a chance to say anything about it Rook wandered into a tree.

 "You okay?" He asked, managing not to chuckle a bit, for the smartest member of the flock he could be pretty oblivious. He was more than happy to have other's help with the hunting, it meant bring back more food for everyone. He thought about Rook's comment about deer, he wasn't sure they'd be able to manage a deer with little to no tools and a small fire but a big juicy deer steak did sound wonderful.  "Excellent, sounds like we've got a hunting party then."  He added looking at Dizzy then Rook, figuring between him and Rook they could certainly keep an eye on Dizzy who had a tendency to wander off.

Of course, then Mal interceded, calling hunting a waste of time. Crash dramatically rolled his eyes at her.  "If you want to go to the city alone, then go. I want to eat and I doubt they just hand out food in the city. Hunting is fun, we need food to stay strong, we know where the food is here. The city isn't going anywhere."  Crash snapped back at her, he didn't want to take orders, he was free now, he didn't have to listen. He didn't like the way she stretched her wings out at him, was she trying to look bigger? It felt too much like a threat. Crash could get grumpy when hungry, back at the facility they would be due for breakfast around now.

[Assistant]
Rook rubbed his forehead, managing a smile at Crash. "I'm fine...I just need to stop getting lost in thought." He was going to ask about hunting, until Mal interjected. He listened to her in silence, then watched her fly off.

He stood there for a bit, processing what she said. She has a point, he thought to himself. Flick did say they needed to get to the city early, before everyone woke up. But Crash was right, too-there was no guarantee they could find food in the city, and they knew how to find food here. He looked between Crash and towards Mal in the sky, before opening his mouth. "She...has a point. If we are going to go into the city today, we need to go now." He paused, before looking at Crash. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't do anything rash, foolish. We will hunt soon, unless there is food in the city, as she says."

Looking up, he took a deep breath, spread his wings, and flew. "Join me, if you want to! He yelled down at Crash and the rest of the group, before taking off in Mal's direction, intent on making sure she didn't get herself killed.

[User]
Flick was going over game plans in his head. Get to the city limits and find a restaurant. His time out of the facility had taught him that cities produced a lot of waste, and restaurants produced food waste. He wasn't above eating out of the trash, and he doubted anyone else was at this point. Then, find clothes. He remembered there being these...bins that people would drop clothes off in to be given to others in need. Well, they were certainly in need. Then they could-

The others' bickering started to break his train of thought. Mal was threatening to run off on her own, and Crash, Dizzy, and Rook wanted to go hunting. Why did Rook want to go hunting? Flick took in a deep breath when he heard wings beating air, and sighed it out to channel his patience. He look up at Mal, hovering above them.

"Mal, don't start this early. Crash, Dizzy, Rook, hunting is not priority right now. We don't know this area well enough, and it'll take too long. We need to get going if we don't want to be seen."

Keeping these kids together was like herding cats sometimes. The irony of the statement was completely lost on Flick.

[Assistant]
Rook flew upwards with as much strength as he could muster, trying to close the distance quickly. This is not what we need right now..., he thought to himself. This whole situation was falling apart, everyone wanted to do something else. His priority now was to make sure Mal didn't fly off to the city by herself, as that could end horribly in many ways. They needed to work together, to co-ordinate. Finally, he flew up close to Mal, and paused, hovering.

"Mal...wait up..." He said in between deep breaths. "I know you want to go to the city-I do, too-but you can't run off alone. If you're going, then I'm going." He looked at her, folding his arms. He meant it- if she was going to run off to the city, he couldn't sit there as she put herself into a dangerous situation. Everyone here needed each other safe and alive, simple as that.


[System]
Nickname(s)
None, other than being called by her last name, Holland, which her family called a "name of the old world."

Age
24

Appearance
She stands at average height - around 5'5" - with straight, black hair that hangs down to her waist which she ties up in a knot or braid most days. She's thin like most in Subsection F, as having extra weight is a luxury that they can't afford, but working has given her some muscle she'd never had previously. If not in her work suit, she normally dresses in black to not draw attention to herself, especially with what's happening in the District. Among random scars, she has a few tattoos in hidden places as well as her ears stretched, a trend that had resurfaced in the subsection when she was a teenager.

Job Duty
Aura, as of three months ago, was demoted to Sanitation and Maintenance as a form of punishment. Originally, like her mother, she was in Service and Housekeeping, often traveling to the wealthier districts to serve as a maid. A family down by the beach had chosen her mother as their permanent maid two years ago, and Aura hasn't seen her since.

Faction Information
Although its officially named subsection F, many of its inhabitants refer to it as its previous name, Unity, chosen many years ago during the first rebellion, but the AA refuses to acknowledge it as such. It's the heart of the district, its epicenter, with its downtown area called Atlantic. Most of the job opportunities in the subsection are to be of service to other subsections - some among them being Service and Housekeeping, Sanitation and Maintenance, and a new opportunity, Apex Enforcement. It was the first time in years that the AA ever thought to recruit anyone from subsection F, but with how desperate some of its citizens are getting, its sold as a fantastic chance of leaving poverty. Most of Unity's inhabitants, though, frown upon anyone joining the AE. Rumors of rebellion rumble through the underground, but the AA hasn't had any solid proof...yet.

History
Aura grew up with her mother, father, and little brother Ion in a small home on the outskirts of the district, and though it was humble, it was full of love. Her brother and father still occupied the home, now growing crops for the entire District. She still visits often, especially when she needs a home-cooked meal, and her dad always insists on giving her an extra serving even though there isn't much to spare. Her father, though rebellious in his youth, was now a reformed man, insisting that things were the way they needed to be. This continually caused a riff between them, until Aura realized that he wasn't going to change. Talks of the second rebellion were no longer had at the dinner table.

While Aura was never a well-behaved child, her actions were to help her family. Since caught stealing bread at the age of 13, she had been under the eye of the AE, and has had numerous run-ins with them since.

[User]
The trek to her father's house was a blur, adrenaline and uncertainty pumping through Aura with each beat of her heart clapping in her ears. To keep her hostage from returning to her family home, she tossed her sweater over his head and guided him by looping one arm through his, while the other kept the gun pointed towards him. The rain had picked up, and the dirt floor of the crop fields had turned into a thick stretch of mud, causing her boots to stick with each step.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

The heavy wooden door only creaked open a couple of an inches with an eye peeking out.

"It's me."

Her father sighed, not opening the door any further. "What have you done?"

"I need the garage tonight. And two changes of clothes." Moments passed, with only silence and the patter of the rain to fill the void. "Please… I'm sorry."

"Be out by dawn," he huffed, followed by snapping the door shut. The man returned moments later with a sack that he tossed to her, giving no time for another word between them before shutting the door once again.

Once entering the garage, Aura forced the man into a seated position on the floor and removed her sweater from his head. The garage, detached by a few hundred feet from the home, held a tractor and other machinery, along with an array of tools that lined the back wall, a fold out cot, and a wooden desk. She hastily lit a couple of candles until the garage was illuminated with a dim, yellow light, then she grabbed a retrieved from the wall and threw it over her shoulder.

"You're changing first," she instructed, shoving a plain, large t-shirt and cotton pants into the man's hands, taking his bag in response and kicking it across the floor towards the cot. Her hand that held the gun trembled, unsure if it was from the frigid rain or her nerves, but her eyes shot to the ground in an attempt to give the man some privacy.

Once finished, she tied his arms behind him around a support beam that sat in the center of the garage, then grabbed her own change of clothes. These must have been Ion's, her younger brother, who towered over her much like the mystery man. She put the large t-shirt on, then slipped the wet clothes beneath off of her, then slid on the pants, then took their wet clothes and draped them over a chair to dry.

What would her endgame be here? If she let him go, he could kill her - or worse, notify the AA of her treason. He knew her name already… that she had family. She should have just shot him in the street when she had the chance.

Aura felt around in his bag and removed the gun, placing it gently on the ground next to hers. Next his paperwork, which for now, she just glanced over before setting placing them on the cot.

So," she sighed, crouching down in front of him. "A runner, huh?" Her eyes scanned him in curiosity. "Why are you in F?" Before continuing, Aura realized that she still hadn't had her one question answered since she had seen the man in front of Mae's tavern.

"What's your name?"

[Assistant]
Kieran continued to be accosted as he was held at gunpoint and continued to be pushed further and further from the town square. As she pushed him, Kieran made a note of every building, every street, and every inch of the area—until of course, she tossed a sweater over her head.

"Fucking really," Kieran muttered, unsure and uncaring if she had heard the comment. Luckily, the smell wasn't so bad, if it weren't for the sweat that had already been dripping down his face. He continued to trudge forward through the humid, muddy night. He tried to keep some sense of his bearings and figured they had gone maybe a ten or so blocks before he heard her bang thrice on a door.

He listened intently to the conversation Aura shared with a third voice. This one gruff, uncaring but…rather familiar. He figured this could be a close friend, or possibly a relative. He was unsure and would be sure to figure that one out later. As for now he ran through the facts.

This was Aura; likely associated with the same group the others were. She was armed. He had heard gunshots. Likely this all would have been enough to get her arrested (assuming he survived the night) but that wasn't his mission, was it?

He hated himself in some small way for thinking this way. He wasn't a spy, for fuck's sake—he was a runner, and his business was passing along shit and keeping a low profile.

Nothing about all of this seemed right. Apex Authority were no heroes. These so-called freedom fighters broke a strange peace and got others killed in their wake. The more he thought, the less he felt like picking any side in this horrid mess.

He expected blinding light when she removed the sweater from his head, but the dimness of the room was a simple sight to be acclimated to.

He locked eyes with her—looking down, of course, as she was several inches to a foot shorter—and could immediately spot something he was familiar with.

Fear.

He didn't see a fearless terrorist. He saw someone terrified out of their fucking mind about what was going on. Which immediately lowered his guard and put him at ease. If he played his cards right, he might not be the real hostage here.

As she tossed clothes in his hands, she took his bag and was sure to kick it hard away from them—which immediately put him at ease. He had been particularly careful to burn all evidence of the current mission and keep the Black Seal on his person rather than in an easily-stolen bag. In there wasn't much other than the usual ID papers and runner's stamp.

He gave he a cold look; wondering if she was going to watch him change. He watched her eyes dart to the floor, before removing his clothes. He was glad to be out of them, really. What a sweaty mess he was at this point. He made a point to turn his back to her and straighten out his underwear—ensuring Aura's eyes stayed away—and slipped the Black Seal from his trousers to his underwear. Uncomfortable indeed. He figured he would bet on her holding back on asking him to be completely naked. If she didn't he figured he'd have to find a good way to lie.

He placed the rest of the clothes on him and was tied promptly to a pole. He looked away as Aura changed, and watched her dig through his things.

"So," she sighed, crouching down in front of him. "A runner, huh? Why are you in F? What's your name?"

He figured he'd tackle her questions one at a time. He made sure to make clear eye contact through the sweat dripping down his face. Fuck, it was hot in here.

"Yeah, a runner," he said simply. "3B149, feel free to verify that on the sheet." He straightened up against the pole; trying to ward off a pain growing his back. "I have a couple of clients take me this far and was back in town to collect. Sure, I'm not supposed to be in F, but hey; what were you up to after curfew?"

He always laughed the last half of his sentence; breaking into a smile. His captor was looking increasingly shaky and tense; not great when she was two guns on her. He figured he could lean into his recent deal with Teegan and Cale and could get them to verify his story to Aura if need be.

"I'm Kieran," he smiled. "And I'm very much not looking to die tonight, so if we could work something out, I'm all ears."

While he was miles from trusting Aura, particularly now, he was certainly hoping to make an ally of her, after all. He wasn't exactly sure of the benefits of the alternative, but it certainly wouldn't be good for him, would it?


[System]
Alias: "Tank"
Gender: Male
Species: Human

Appearance: (preferred pic as long as it matches the Species)

5'10 260 lbs, muscled (not body builder muscle) body, brown hair, blue eyes.

Age: 29
Equipment:
 - Weapon(s)
 - Bayonet
 - Stun Baton

 - STRM "Getex" Long Barrel Railgun (MAG RAIL SNIPER RIFLE) - holographic/medium range scope /w Bayonet fixture.

 - Aurorex Armory Double Barrel shotgun (Saw off) - 8 gauge

 - STRM "Swat Special" Compact Assault rifle 5.56 with holographic sight

 - Armor
 - Remos Armory SWAT EOD Armor - Modified - A suit of EOD armor (Mix of Carbon Fiber and metal) With more Metal armor added to the front, and carbon added to the back to cushion explosions.

 - Modified Riot Shield - A Sturdy Metal Riot shield with a cut out of the top that seems perfect for a large rifle. with small pockets for ammunition and secondary firearms

Shield only

Personality:
 - Typically a happy individual, Sergey is seen as a honorable person, taking allegiances aside to keep innocents alive as what he has done serving in a rapid response
police force. Mainly a head on guy, he takes a direct approach with his fights. Trying to soak as much fire and attention so that his allies can flank or maneuver around to take out
hostile targets or secure innocent targets safety. He usually does not use his weapons as a lethal force, typically using his Mag Rifle as a terror weapon at close ranges. If needed he does have more lethal options such as a shotgun and compacted assault rifle for when he is overwhelmed or his allies/innocents are in danger of most kinds.

 - Outside of combat, he is rather calm, trying to stay to his routine of eating certain points of the day, keeping an 'light' exercise regime before going to do other things. Usually can be found watching soap opera's, doing metal work or finding something else to do to spend his time. He is generally friendly, open and kind to most around him. If something needs done, he will usually do it, he is extremely work oriented.

Bio: (Minimum of 3 paragraphs, must include some sort of military or combat background)

 Being from the outer rim he lived in the KoT with his mother being a secretary, and his father a police officer in a cities force.From a young age Sergey was a strong person, playing contact sports, getting into fights, and becoming a wrestler in school. He was suspended several times during his primary and secondary schooling. When he was almost out of school, he was able to gradate early not due to smarts, but because he just wanted to get done with it. When learning he had to go back to school or join the military to becoming a police officer, he decided to go to school as he was still below the age for the military or local defense force. Once finished with a lesser degree, he got married, and joined the police.

 He enjoyed his time in the police, after several years, he did break some of his bad habits, like fighting constantly, breaking things when he was angry, and drinking. Several years into his line of work, he became a swat officer out of boredom. Eventually when he was placed into schooling, he exited the back of his vehicle before it was blown up with three of his squad mates behind him. He was placed into hospital for minor things and was in a coma for several days. It was months before allowed to go back to work, so he was able to be trained for a new role he desired to be. An EOD, with the remaining swat unit he was in.

Recently, he was laid off for drinking again, a father who hasn't met his daughter and divorced. Seeing not much else to do since he was mainly shunned in his home city, he joined the Crimson Legion. More so out of wanderlust then anything. He is completely new to the legion, but he was recruited into it for his work in the police force swat team and skills at defusing and possibly fusing explosive devices of many kinds.

Relationships:
Mother - Olga R. Georgiy
Father - Alexi Georgiy
Ex-Wife - Hailey Ness
Daughter - Catherine Ness
Rachel (some accountant or HR rep or something) - Friend who recommended him to the Crimson Legion.

[User]
Lito had been in the Resistance's temporary base attempting to direct their movements through the ongoing battle through the city. With Lasminee's fortress surrounded and reporting two tanks in the vicinity Lito knew he wouldn't be able to keep giving orders and would have to step out onto the front lines himself. After giving control of the Resistance forces back to the "Leader" of the resistance Lito quickly mobilized with a squad of Resistance Elite making sure to take along a few toys that he had picked up to deal with those heavily armored pests.

With his Squad loaded up into an APC Lito placed himself on top of the APC inside his own battle suit. While approaching the Stronghold a report came through of 6 enemy Armored Suits making their way to the resistance forces. Knowing that their current forces wouldn't be able to hold them off telling his men to move faster Lito was ready to join the battle. Just as his targets came into sight Lito knoticed he had gotten into range of the Crimson Legion's comms system. "I hope you fellas weren't expecting to hog all the action for yourselves." he announced as he started to take aim at his targets. Raising his arm Lito took aim before firing a round from his rail gun. The shot struck one of the enemy Armored units center mass punching strait through the suit slumping it over for a moment before it exploded.

The Resistance APC nearly got knocked off course from the force of Lito's shot but it quickly pulled over Lito jumped off of the apc readying his auto cannon. "Alright boys show them what you got." he commented as the APC's back opened up and a group of Resistance troops poured out from it. Two of the troops ran out equipped with a pair of rocket launchers quickly taking aim and unleashing two shots at another of the armored troops. The trooper dodged one of the rockets sending the shot flying into a nearby building, but was stuck by the second damaging the suits systems and before it could react it was lit up as Lito unloaded into the suit with his auto cannon. It didn't take long for the suits systems to fail under the fire and again the pilot slumped down dead in his suit. The remaining four Armored troops quickly retreated into cover. "Time to turn the tide boys, light them up!" Lito yelled out in an attempt to rally the Resistance forces that had been under fire from the armored suits giving them the ability to reorganize and continue fighting.

[Assistant]
Gerad

Gerad listened to the comms as Cyne and Ducaliea made their way in and began to sow their brand of havoc amongst the enemies in the second line. While they did that, and the rest of them waited with the Resistance for the right time to move, he busied himself with some more repairs to the Chimera.
-
As the power armoured thugs moved in, he was moving out. "KRAK 'EM LADS!" He hollered to the nearby Resistance fighters. "ANY 'OW TAGS ME BUYS TH' DRINKS!" Despite their nervousness about the on coming fight, quite a few of the fighters laughed. Saving his dwindling PRP shots for the tank, he flashed laser fire at the thugs from behind his Barrier, sweeping the beam in arcs to try and tag them. Like the last batch they'd fought, these power armoured enemies where faster on their feet that one would normally expect, and the armour was tough enough to take glancing blows from his VLA.

Before he could really start to go to work, a voice cut into the company comms just as a mass driver punched a slug straight through one of the attackers. This seemed to be the signal for the Resistance, because as soon as that happened, they poured forwards unloading on the incoming hostiles. A second suit went down under autocannon fire from the power armoured Resistance leader after an anti-armour crew had gotten a good hit in themselves. Another suit juked madly to avoid the fire from the Resistance push and brought himself right into a perfect shot for Gerad.

The target window was only moments, but that was enough; the VLA struck a flex joint in the armour's torso, and in moments burned through causing an overload while at the same time disabling the computers. Instead of the plasma flair from the overload venting outwards, the damage made it vent into the armour. In less than two full seconds, the target was nothing more than a vaguely humanoid shaped pile of slag; this was all a moot point to the pilot however as the penetrating VLA beam had bisected his heart and killed him before the armour had even blown up.


[System]
Age:122
Physical Age:18

Appearance:

Height: 6'9" (206cm)
Weight: 232 lbs. (105kg)
Build: Toned
Skin Color: Fair
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Facial Hair: Clean-shaven
Manual Laterality: Left-handed
Markings: Numerous combat scars around his body.

Revealed Through Story
Nikola is a prideful young man and a battle maniac like his grandfather, being obsessed with finding strong opponents. He frequently challenges people to fights in order to further his goal of being recognized by Baylord Doom among the canines. He can be extremely ruthless and violent during combat, due to him mainly relying on his baser instincts to fight rather than an actual combat style.

Having been raised in an environment that encouraged strength and power, he developed a large belief in "might makes right." Driving him to hate people who are weak and inept, viewing them as trash. But likewise, he grows excited to meet many new people he deems worthy of fighting or anyone with the potential to be a strong fighter.

Despite this, he can be very caring and sensitive, as he frequently follows his mother's tips and advice, in how he should treat his friends and allies. Making sure that he doesn't direct his more ruthless side towards them.
Likes: Meat, Cute Things, Color Green, Tea, Friends

Dislikes: Chocolate, Weakness, Color Yellow, Snow

Quirks:
Constantly paces around while thinking.

Yells when fired up.

Enjoys getting his ear scratched.

Growling when disliking someone or threatened.

Amplification Skill: Howl- A technique that uses a wave to maximize the effect on shinsoo. It sacrifices precision, but it significantly amplifies the amount of power of an attack.
Regular or Irregular: Regular

Physique: Medium

Endurance: High

Resistance: Medium

Aptitude: High

Position: Wave Controller

Special Position: ???

Reason for climbing the tower: To be recognized by Baylord Doom.

[User]
Kaz stood up in the yellow field as a pocket hovered in the air and declared.  " All contestants welcome to the second floor Evankills hell!, The first test will be beginning right now, there are four hundred people on this floor, thin it and it to two hundred. " Kaz was stunned but gritted his teeth.

 " Damn hope I don't die" Kaz laughed nervously to himself.

Kaz began to "sneak" around through the yellow field hoping no one would see him. Kaz kept "Sneaking" around until he was a boy with blue hair stab a regular with a short spear.  " oh shit"kaz said then paled when the boy looked at him.  " Wait wait! How about instead of killing me we team up I'm an anima? " Kaz asks hopefully.

 "Hmm sure why not I need some friends , names Khun Aleck Gelaro but call me Aleck" Aleck said quietly and shook Kaz's hand.

 "Khun huh? Did you pass the competition thing?"  Kaz asks Aleck. Aleck nods " I don't want to talk about it but yes"  he said and motions for Kaz to follow him. The duo walks around until they see another regular  " Ok so distract him and I'll use my spear " Aleck tells Kaz in a near whisper.

Kaz nods and walks to the Regular " Hey! Buddy you...you suck! " Kaz called in it wincing it wasn't his best insult but it would do. The regular growled at Kaz and went to attack him. Aleck smiled and ran up then jumped off a rock as he threw the spear he had brung to the tower at the regular.  " right on" Aleck said as the spear hit the regulars chest.  " got him" Aleck said smiling.

Kaz smiled as well then a look of really? came across his face as Aleck passed out.  " aren't the bloodline of the ten great families supposed to be strong?"  he muttered as he picked up Aleck and carried him on his shoulders. Kaz carried Aleck to a small ledge and laid him there then eat next to him praying regulars wouldn't attack them.

[Assistant]
When Ha-nul Rang blinked his eyes open, it was the middle of the night, which was odd, because he usually woke up with the sun if nothing unusual happened. Gazing at the darkness, he realized he was looking at a ceiling, though it was a very distant one.

"The Tower…" he whispered. "Finally," he sighed, and rolled into a sitting position. He looked down at himself, checking that his clothes and weapon were with him; they were. Good.

Then, the so-called God appeared before him, as he thought he had in a daydream. It wasn't just a dream this time, though. The boy smiled eagerly at the Guardian, then stood up, now towering over the short rabbit-like being.

"Correct, young one. This is the Tower. Were you truly in such a rush?" Headon asked, amused, and shook his head. "A common trait among the Chosen," he commented.

Ha-nul knew he was being mocked, but just shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, we live long, but time is still precious to us, you know?" he replied with a smirk, his words carrying an undertone of 'so stop wasting mine', though the boy wasn't so arrogant as to truly state such a thing. He was more than willing to imply it, however.

The Guardian smiled its characteristic smile, the corners of his mouth opening enough to reveal his sharp teeth. "Very well. To the test then. I'm certain you will appreciate the one-hour time limit within which you must complete the task," the God grinned mischievously, twirling its golden staff. "Your goal is to reach the center of the labyrinth," he stated, pointing to a wall. There had definitely been nothing but a wall there before, but suddenly an entrance to another area manifested. "The count-down begins once you enter the maze," Headon explained.

Ha-nul blinked, observing the entrance, then the surroundings. "No clues? Information? A whole layout of the maze for me to memorize or a partial map of it?" he asked. The Guardian seemed to consider this with a hum, and answered, "One clue: Don't let the Barnacle Goblins impede you." The damned rabbit was still smiling, obviously enjoying messing with him.

The young male pursed his lips, and strolled to the labyrinth's entrance. He stopped just before it, crouched into a low start, then dashed within, eyes roaming around, observing. The walls were high; he couldn't see where they ended, so jumping or climbing over would be unlikely. Ha-nul drew his hook from where it'd been sheathed at his side, and struck at the wall. As he expected, the damage was minimal; he would not be breaking through by any means. Keeping his pace, the youth jogged through, making turns on random – though he memorized each one, in case he had to backtrack.

When he reached his first dead-end, Ha-nul was faced by a trio of agitated barnacle goblins, and he simply turned around, ran to the last intersection, and proceeded down another path, disregarding the creatures chasing him. He had to evade and jump over another duo of goblins, which was quite the close call. Thankfully, he was able to reach the center soon enough. The heart of the maze was a simple square room, empty besides a glowing cube with a timer. Ha-nul ran to it and tapped it, which stopped the count-down, and transported him back to the 1st floor.

Ha-nul collapsed to the ground immediately, panting and sweaty. The rabbit stared at him complacently. "Congratulations, you have completed your first test successfully," it said cheerfully, though with blatant cheekiness. "It took you 18 minutes and 58 seconds to do so. Not too shabby for someone like you," he remarked, entirely unnecessarily in Ha-nul's opinion. However, the boy was too tired to do much beyond direct a glare at the being.

"Hmm, as a gift for being such a good sport and learning your lesson, I will let you rest for 10 minutes before sending you up," the Guardian offered. "Unless you are still too impatient?" Headon immediately added a flippant query. Smartly, Ha-nul kept his mouth shut, resting his mind and body.

The God nonchalantly paced around the 1st floor and after ten minutes, transferred Ha-nul to the next testing ground. The newly minted Regular found himself within a vast field of wheat. At least I can see around here, he thought grumpily. However, his spirit wasn't at all undeterred, and with a renewed vigour, Ha-nul took to jogging around, watchful for single targets. Seeing as the task was to halve the number of aspirant climbers, it would be best for him to run and evade powerful opponents, remove the weaker ones, and possibly team up with someone of at least equal strength or ability.

[User]
Violet nervously looked around and dashed through the field almost getting hit at by a spear. She didn't want to kill anyone so she played down in the field and was quiet trying to block out the screams and battle. Someone stepped on her arm and stopped to spear her before she rolled away. She stood and face the person.
 "Please leave me alone, I don't want to hurt you." she said crying.
 "I'll kill you easily crybaby."The person replied.
 He lunged and cut her arm a little before being stabbed in the stomach, violet carried his body further out. She held his hand as he began to slowly bleed out. Violet closed his eyes as he died and prayed for safe journey to the afterlife. Placing flowers around him she placed a lock of her hair, and took a lock of his hair.
"Rest in peace, may you forgive me." she said walking away and placing the lock on her weapon tie.

[Assistant]
"Pl-please… let me go. Forgive me."

The Princess watched dispassionately as the young man squirmed in her grip, his hands grasping desperately at her arm and wrist as he tried to free himself from her clutches.

"Tsk. Don't beg, it's annoying. At least take this like a man."

Her grip on his throat was unassailable; against her strength a normal Regular had a better chance of moving mountains than they did overpowering her, even with her fingers slick with the blood of his friends her hold on him was unbreakable. He seemed to come to the same the conclusion himself, as his struggles continued for a only a few seconds more before he seemed to settle for just holding on to her arm as either lack of oxygen or hopelessness set in.

"You idiots are the ones who attacked a Princess. What did you think would happen?"

Almost as soon as she had reached this floor, before she'd even fully digested the test they had been given, she had been ambushed by a group of men and women looking to take her out. Fools. How did that end for them? The bodies scattered on the ground around her and the fresh blood coating her boots and covering her arms up to the elbow were the only answer she'd get now; even the Regular in her grip wasn't talking anymore. She looked to her Pocket instead, the little floating orb showing the number of participants remaining, the number steadily ticking down as the Regulars in this test cut each other apart.

"Plea… Princess, I swear myself to-to you. M-my loyalty. Let me live; I can be useful. Let me li-." The pleading cut off with a wet crunch as Candice's fingers crushed the neck in her grip like a twig. She didn't have time to deal with small fry like this right now; she'd wasted precious moments dealing with this trash and now she'd have to hurry to find what she was looking for. She released the Regular she was holding, letting his limp body fall to the ground as she walked away from the grisly scene.