[System]
Age: 23
Height: 5 ft 5
Weight: 150 lbs.
Allegiance: 'Hope'
Distinguishing Traits: Iris has a scar on her left hand, located on the wrist which was gained a few years back. No other scars but due to her pale skin Iris tends to bruise easily. Personality wise she is quite head strong, stubborn and isn't afraid to voice her opinion. Although she has light blue eyes in contrast to her fair skin in certain lights her eyes can be mistaken for grey.

Short Bio: Growing up in Aspiria sounded wonderful and it was if you were on the upper side. Iris however had grown up with her father on the rougher side, the commoner side of the city where you lived within your means. If you couldn't afford dinner well you wouldn't have dinner, it was as simple as that. It didn't really matter to her though because she had a loving family, her father worked hard day in and out and her mother kept the house maintained and food in their stomachs and it worked for them.
It all had changed when her mother fell ill and sadly passed away not long after. She had outright refused to use their money on medicine that would help her, and she was a stubborn woman a trait Iris had inherited. That death however sparked a rebellion, it fuelled her father's courage who gathered as many men, women and even teens that was willing to fight. He called it hope, hope for those wanting that better life.

Years had passed with many strikes; fights and a war had started between the two. Neither side wanted to relent, and her father Regis was focused on bringing down the hierarchy. His intentions had been pure at the start but since he was considered the leader of this rebellion, he had become accustomed to the ease of everything. Food on the table, weapons and money all donated to this cause and it fed his greed. He hungered for more, but no one knew that side. Not yet.

Now he had raised his daughter following his beliefs, ensuring that she bore just as much hatred for the higher ups as he did. He constantly twisted and manipulated her mind making her mother a martyr, ensuring that she believed it was their fault and that they had killed her mother and as Iris knew nothing else, she was left to believe such stories. Now being a young adult, she had trained herself to fight in this war, she could use a gun if needed but she much preferred being stealthy favouring a dagger. Using her size to her advantage and her skills in stealth she often gained information as leverage, but she had yet to kill someone, she had yet to have blood on her hands.

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[User]
"I'll take that as a compliment then." Iris mused laughing as Miles gave her a teasing push being playful with her back, "Little old me? Better company than Jay and the crown Prince. My you are full of compliments for me today. I'll get some sort of ego hanging around you for too long." Chuckling as she shook her head in amusement finding it quite amusing he would boast such a thing, she didn't believe she was better company than the boys who were his best friends but it was nice to think it if even for a moment. "There it is, now I think I'm the best. I told you hanging around you would give me some sort of ego boost."

Smiling to herself as he kept the enthusiasm going, playing along with her at the idea she'd beat them all at cards. "Young apprentice." Chuckling as she grinned at the idea of wiping the floor with Cas if they played cards together, well she could think of better things to do with him than play cards but she was certain that it would be fun. "I still think I could beat you too, just you watch next game you will be begging me to stop as the humiliation will be too much for your fragile heart." They were bold words for her, she knew she was still getting the hang of playing the games, but she couldn't help but boast her new abilities. It was always fun having banter with Miles.

"Royal Tightass." Iris snorted at the nickname Miles consistently gave Cas, it was always amusing to her as she had never seen Cas be tight with anything. Not with her anyway, she didn't know if there had been other times, but she still found it amusing. Giving a small wave to Miles she could barely contain her excitement. Already she could feel the knots in her stomach, butterflies building up at the anticipation of seeing him. Though she knew she couldn't hug him or kiss him for that matter whilst Miles was around, perhaps they would get a brief moment alone? I wonder if he thought about that night together. Feeling her cheeks heat up at the thought, their last conversation burned in the back of her mind because at first it had been an innocent suggestion. To talk through what had happened and enjoy each other's company, she felt like she could open up to him but now the idea of that night together made her think of other things they could be doing.

Hearing the door go once more she could only assume it was Miles with Cas and the smile spread across her face as she eagerly sought him out, "Well well well, did the palace get boring your highness?" Smirking as she made the comment, she had to make that comment because it stopped her from leaving the sofa and going over to hug him. As much as she yearned it, she knew right now she had to just wait a little longer. At least she could see and talk to him though.

[Assistant]
"That was the idea," Miles grinned at Iris when she said he was building her ego. Really it was more of an excuse for him to compliment her without giving away his interest outright. Now that the lockdown was over, there was less of a reason for him to pretend like he didn't find her ridiculously hot, but he wanted to plan out how he was going to make a real move at least a little before he actually tried it. For now, he would just work less to hide his attraction, so she wouldn't be blindsided when he left nothing to the imagination later on.

Heading out of his bedroom, he made his way to the front door, where one of the maids had just let Caspian inside the manor. "Hey, long time no see," he greeted the prince in a friendly manner, then quirked a brow when he noticed the color on his face. "You okay, man? You're looking a little flushed."

"I don't want to talk about it," Cas shook his head, shutting the topic down with a wince. Apparently his efforts to quell his embarrassment hadn't worked very well. He hoped the residual awkwardness would fade once he got his mind off the events at the gas station. Seeing Iris again would help. At the thought of her, he peered past Miles' shoulder down the hallway that led to his room, his heart fluttering with excitement. "Let's go sit down," he suggested to the other high born, waving a hand for him to follow as he strode toward the corridor.

"Okay," Miles complied without question, picking up on the prince's implied desire to meet up with Iris away from the maids that were milling about the public quarters of the building. They walked back to the bedroom, talking idly as Miles made one more attempt to ask why the prince had shown up to his place looking flustered. Of course, Cas shut him down stubbornly and took a few quick steps ahead to get to the door before his friend had a chance to pester him anymore. As soon as he opened it, he was greeted with the sight he had been awaiting for the whole week.

Stopping in the doorway, he couldn't help but stare as his eyes landed on Iris. She was sitting on the sofa, donning a beautiful, deep scarlet dress that cinched and flowed over her body in a way that both flattered her figure and highlighted the rosiness of her fair skin. Her golden blonde hair was loose and her blue eyes were especially striking in contrast with the bold color of her clothing. It almost felt like she had been posed just for him, and he nearly missed the words that left her perfectly shaped lips as he struggled to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"Um, yeah…" he managed to splutter after a moment, proceeding the rest of the way into the room with Miles following close behind. Clearing his throat, he smiled at her sheepishly, feeling strangely nervous around her when she looked so incredible. If possible, she was even more gorgeous in person than he'd made her out to be in his imagination while they'd been apart. He was bewildered how he had gotten so lucky that a woman like her was actually interested in him. If his friend hadn't been in the room with them, he would have been tempted to close the distance between them and have her on the sofa.

Chagrined by the direction of his own thoughts, he forced himself to speak, "Anyway, how have you been holding up? I hope Miles hasn't been giving you too hard of a time while you've been stuck here with him."


[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Personality: A fairly quiet and reserved girl, not for reasons such as shyness but from indifference. Thisa prefers to stay out of the daily affairs of others, sometimes life can be troublesome enough without bringing in someone else's issues. That said Thisa is normal socially, friends come easily enough and a conversation is welcomed, even she can get lonely. Due to her naturally reclusive nature, Thisa is slow to anger and can be extremely patient in fact she can't remember the last time she has ever been angry, which is what she may say. When pushed Thisa has a very harsh temper, when truly angry she can and will become quite aggressive. A good analogy would be to describe her as a stick of dynamite with a very long fuse, it'll take a while but the results would still be drastic. There one true fire way to get Thisa talking is to mention technology, its one subject she can never get enough of.

Talent: Skilled Mechanic: Thisa for her age makes a great mechanic, and a small time inventor. If its physical Thisa can understand it and even reconstruct it just with a few quick glances. Her skills have also been somewhat lucrative with people coming to her for repairs on broken down items. Her prowess in mechanics don't translate quite into computers, sure she's competent in their operation but otherwise is about average.

Ability: Finely-Tuned Mechanisms: Thisa's ability comes around the idea of creation, she can manipulate inorganic matter into virtually any machine, and theoretically of any size. There are limits of course, to create something requires an equivalent exchange, the middle of a grass field leads to very little useable material, which limits or even completely nullifies her usefulness while a junkyard can lead to endless opportunities. Another thing the initial creation of a machine taxes the body, two factors are considered, the size of the machine and the complexity. A small pulley system has almost no affect on her stamina, something of human size would be very draining at the least, and something like a full semi truck can leave her almost comatose.

There is also a limit to the number of machines that can operate at once, how many again depends on the size and complexity. Once this said limit is passed machines start to break apart, or even meet a violent end for the more volatile creations. When a machine is deassembled the matter that made it up returns back to its original form, that is unless the machine is destroyed by force.

Bio: Thisa is a single child who hails for a standard middle class home. From an early age her parents pushed "constructive toys" onto her, ones such as Legos or Lincoln Logs. Her father worked as an automobile technician, and her mother an aerospace engineer, because of their own success they wanted to pass it down to their daughter. Thisa took well to the toys eventually progressing from simple plastic pieces to tool kits and personal projects. Thisa created a scrapbook filled with designs and other miscellaneous drawings, some of which became a reality. One such was a robotic arm designed for a competition, a simple middle school level one so needless to say Thisa's arm won without contest. Moving onto the present day Thisa is a fresh transfer, Saint Dmyphna's Highschool offered great opportunities despite the cost of moving out there in the first place, and while Thisa isn't much for people the prospect of meeting new people was still exciting in of itself.

[User]
As the assault went on Thisa was just as enraged, they had the audacity to attack her, but no... they weren't attacking her, it was the knight. The knight kept a defensive posture, using its shield to attempt to take the brunt of the damage, and more specifically to keep her out of the crossfire. The knight only retaliated when a student got too close, and even then it was only to drive the person away rather then to land a killing blow. It was then that Thisa realized what was happening, she was the aggressor in all of this, the bad guy, the villain. Her vision skewed, the battlefield became nothing but a distortion of color, she was blinded. Through all the chaos Thisa heard one thing she forgot about, Harold. She had no idea how he got past the knight but he did and was right there, not that Thisa could see him. It was enough just to hear his voice and to feel his presence to break her resolve and as a result to dissipate her anger.

Holy hell what was she doing? None of this was right, she caused a WAR to break out in the cafeteria... over nothing but her own rage. Thisa blinked trying to make sense of what was happening beyond the mixture of colors, but she didn't need to see, she fully knew what was happening it had to end. With a downward swipe of her hand she gave the command, the knight's service was complete. The process was quick, the robot regressed back into its primal state of molten metal, and then back into its component pieces, all the metal that was once used as the knight's body. Before the dismantling the knight contacted Harold one more time, *"My service is complete, I leave my stead to you. Protect the Maker."*

The world started spinning, before she knew it Thisa was on her knees, her stamina all but gone and her mind emotionally fried. She whispered perhaps to herself or perhaps to Harold standing next to her, *"I'm sorry... just... so sorry for what I did..."* with that Thisa fell to her side now curled into the fetal position. She was still conscious much to her dismay, if only everything never happened, if only she wasn't there to observe what happened next. Thisa couldn't see him but she heard Jason's booming voice, she didn't need to know who he was to know he was a ruler. She closed her eyes ready for whatever penalty was coming her way.

[Assistant]
Even though this girl, Belle, had reassured her that her messy habits wasn't anything she should be conscious of, Poppy still grabbed a napkin and swiped it over her face, removing tomato sauce from her lips. The blonde leaned her weight on her elbow that was digging into the table, telling herself to eat slowly and savor the taste. Yet still, she devoured it at a pace most would turn their noses at. The silence became awkward for Poppy, but she figured that the other girl didn't feel it at all – she seemed so relaxed.

"Um, ah, uh…" She meant to finish her sentence and ask what it is that Belle was working on; however, the commotion had gained her undivided attention.

Forks and knives suddenly flew up as shouting occurred and Poppy ducked her head down, placing her hands protectively over her head. It would suck if she died by a fork, seriously. Peeking through her sloppy bangs, she managed to see the knight that had materialized over a girl's anger. That was when chaos erupted: people laughed and then fought, did nothing and then did everything. Colors swirled in a mass of powers, fire and ice, flight and speed. It was all a blur for Poppy as she attempted to press her face into the table. It was only when, after all the shouting and yelling had stopped, that Poppy lifted her head. There was nothing more to attack – the knight was gone.

"Should we, ah, go see what, um, happened?" Poppy inquired, looking at Belle expectantly.

[User]
The flashes and booms stopped as the students backed away from the dismantled pile of metal that used to be the Knight. Soon a tense silence settled down in the cafeteria. Their eyes turned to the crouched Thisa. It was obvious she was behind it all, seeing as she was the closest one to the pile that wasn't facing it.

The sound of clapping resonated throughout the area, and all eyes turned to the source. It was Henrietta, and she didn't look pleased. A boy and a girl were walking side-by-side next to her. They were Winston Chill's two Lieutenants, and they did not look anymore pleased to be with Henrietta as she did with them.

The four Rulers present and the representatives gathered in front of the crowd. Jason put a groggy Louise down and crossed his arms. "Okay, so, anyone going to bother telling me what happened here?"

Henrietta spoke up: "Michael was pulling his usual stunts, ended up getting the girl pissed and she brought out a big metal knight . . . in defense. That thing wouldn't attack unless attacked, so trying to bring it down was pointless; it wouldn't have done a thing."

The girl representative of Winston glared at Michael. "I warned you to stop doing that, Michael. Eventually something like this was going to happen if you kept those little pranks of yours up."

The boy shuffled his feet and looked away guiltily. Anderson and Lietman took their places at his right and left respectively. Jason shook his head. "That still doesn't change the fact that the girl lost it and . . . well, brought that thing out. Not even Lietman with all his hotheaded stupidity would use his abilities to vent. This girl did however."

Henrietta said nothing. He was right of course. She approached Thisa and stared down at her, a hand on her hip. "Listen, I understand that you were angry, in fact, a lot of people are annoyed when Michael pull stuff like that, but one of the first things that everyone here who gains abilities has to understand is this: Never, ever get hostile with your powers unless it's a formal challenge with witnesses and duels. I hope you realize that you could kill someone with your abilities."

"It only takes one little slip to snuff out someone's life after all."

The boy representative turned to Louise. "Well, Marshal, you're in charge of dispensing justice here when the Rulers are involved. What is your verdict?"

Louise, a tired expression on her face, walked towards Thisa and motioned to Michael to come forward. The boy jumped and ran forward, obviously frightened of the small girl. Henrietta shook her head, as if trying to get rid of unpleasant memories and backed away as Louise approached.

"Hello, girl. My name is Louise Sophoro. Today, I'll be your judge, jury and executioner. Nice to meet you~" she stated in a dull drawl.

[Assistant]
Noting how the conversation between the appearent leaders in the area, Harold quickly observed how everyone both respected, and possibly feared the slip of a girl that was walking towards Thisa right now. (She's **tiny**....this will not end well....). Harold sighed slightly to himself, before he shakenly walked in front of the crouched Thisa. His heart was racing with this decision, but he wouldn't abandon Thisa like this. And even if he could only lift a portion of her burden, he'd do it anyway. (For such is the duty, honor, and pleasure of true friends).

Harold coughed once, right after Louis stated just what she was to Thisa, and as calmly as possible, stepped directly in her way. "Ahm....I apologize for being a bother Ms....Louise? I unfortunately am not privy to your last name, and as such shall work with what I have already obtained. However, Ms. Louise, I am unable to allow you to grant punishment on Thisa alone. As well, this incident also involved both myself...." Harold narrowed his eyes at Michael, his eyes awash with unhidden displeasure and even anger: "....and the **child** that is standing next to the *blondie*." Harold was....not pleased with Leitman or Michael at all. They'd been the main reasons beyond himself that had invoked Thisa's anger. They also were responsible for this situation, and the fact that this supposed *leader* was punishing Thisa first just lit a passion Harold rarely felt nowadays. His passion for vengence, and his passion for responsibility. To Harold, these two deserved not just punishment, but even worse punishment than Thisa. They'd be the **cause** of the situation. (Maybe, if they didn't act like *little children* we wouldn't have had to deal with this situation *in the first fucking place*!).

Harold made a slightly hasty decision, but one he felt like he had to support. "Ms. Louise, how about I forsake my laptop in return for handling a portion of Thisa's punishment as well?" Harold felt a part of his soul being ripped out of his chest just then. He felt like he had betrayed his best friend. But he had another best friend, and he felt that his first one would be understanding to his plight here. He also hoped that Thisa would be alright after this. It wouldn't boad well for him if his first friend in a long time were to....well....anything but stay with him really. Plus, it's not like Harold had any prior knowledge to all the rules, written or unwritten in the school yet. This **was** amazingly his first day here still.

[User]
Louise grinned. Simultaneously, several things happened.

Henrietta 'eeped'.

Everyone stampeded for the door.

Jason was already gone.

Anderson sank to his knees.

Lietman turned pale white and started trembling.

Michael started _crying_.

Winston's representatives were on the floor hugging each other, trying their best not to stare at the incarnation of evil before them.

The small girl approached Harold slowly. She still bore her grin, and had the air of a predator approaching it's prey.

"Since when have I ever stated that I was punishing just . . . whatever her name is? Oh no, oh no no _no_. _Everyone_ involved is getting a piece of the pie. From Michael and his little lackeys to the girl. In any case . . . the girl still gets the worst outcome. Why? Because even if she was provoked, that _still_ doesn't change the fact that _only_ _she_ used her ability with violent intent. You want to play knight in shining armor, boy? Well then, tell me this: why did you not do a thing when Lietman came in and shook her down? Why did you not approach her, protect her and reassure her?

"You somehow think this will be okay if you share her punishment? What would that do? The fact is you _failed to help her when she needed it most_.

"If you _really_ cared for her, you would have stopped all this from happening in the first place."

[Assistant]
Thisa kept her eyes closed through the beginning of the hastily started "trial" everything that has been said was true... the knight was defensive even if she herself did not mean it to. She wasn't the one who started it all, it was Micheal and his shadow tricks. Problem is in the end Thisa herself was the one who summoned the knight, it was her who destabilized the cafeteria, it really was her who escalated the entire situation to a full out battle. Thisa waited for the verdict wordlessly, expecting the worse as she deserved, when Harold... Harold of all people stepped up. She felt his presence before she heard his voice, the same one that convinced her while in a rage fueled state to end the conflict. Thisa looked up to Harold, he was standing in front of Louise, even a newcomer like Thisa knew of Louise's reputation, it was hard not to. Her eyes widened as she realized Harold was trying to take blame for himself, oh no, no, no he can't he didn't deserve it.

With a grunt Thisa rose to her feet, it was hard, her legs felt like lead and she feared she would topple over at a second's notice, but she had to stop Harold. She ambled closer, however she was too late Thisa recoiled at the barrage of words thrown by Louise, it had to hurt Harold... just had to. She reached Harold and pulled his arm towards her, "Don't do anything, that's all I ask. Don't try punishing yourself for my sake, I don't want that. Please." Thisa let go of Harold to face Louise herself head on, "Do what must be done to me." That was it, clean, simple and direct as that. Pleading meant nothing, not at least with one ruthless as Louise...


[System]
Megan Pendragon
Character Quote: "I don't know if I have a soul."

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Character Summary
Aliases: Meg
Age: 25
Birthday: July 17th
Ethnicity: British-American
Fairytale Parents: King Arthur and Queen Guinevere
Birth Place: Wichita, Kansas
Gender: Female
Occupation: Junior Medical Examiner
Languages: English

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Appearance
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 140 pounds
Body Type: Athletic
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark Brown (Naturally Blonde)
Skin Tone: Pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Pierced Ears; Semi-Colon Tattoo (Left Wrist)
Personal Style: Megan wears her hair down, dying it regularly to keep her blonde roots from showing. She's never really felt like a blonde and thanks to her parents being doctors, it was never too expensive to go to the salon to get it fixed up. She wears earrings all the time, rotating between a pair of simple hoops and then something a bit edgier - such as skulls, coffins, or ghosts. As far as fashion goes, she typically wears a black long sleeve blouse, dark wash jeans, and Doc Martens. At work, she'll have her lab coat on top of this, with a pair of headphones in her pockets and black latex gloves.

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Psychology
Inquisitive * Unsettling * Patient * Dark * Meticulous * Blunt

Sexuality: Homosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: To be succinct, Megan is a goth. She spends her day working with corpses to attempt to determine the cause of death, she wears skull earrings, and her general demeanor suits Halloween better than any other time of year. Her personality is well suited for scientific pursuits, as she is able to go through tedious experiments without wanting to rip her hair out. She has the self control and the strength to sit in a quiet room, just waiting. Additionally, she is naturally curious, always wondering about the laws of the universe and how to manipulate things to get a desired outcome. She adores a methodical approach with controls.

Of course, many people find her company to be unnerving. It may be because she will casually talk about unsolved murder cases and disappearances in ordinary conversation - dropping in statistics about the differences in crime rates in the summer versus the winter. Or perhaps it is because she was a champion fencer in college and could likely skewer them with a broom. Her unsettling aura likely also arises from her candidness - she doesn't lie. If she hates you, she makes that clear - and if you bore her, then she isn't going to waste her time. She's a bit creepy, but that's just how she is. She isn't going to change that about herself for anyone.

Habits: Tugging on her hair, biting her lip
Hobbies: Fencing
Fears:
* Being Buried Alive
* Cancer
* Lobotomies

Likes:
* Bugs
* Unsolved Mysteries
* Horror Novels
* Movies
* Escape Rooms
* Puzzles

Dislikes:
* Dresses
* Formal Dances
* Cigarettes
* Driving
* Swans
* Public Speaking

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Skills
General Skills:
* Drawing
* Forensic Pathology
* Forensic Science
* Driving (Car)
* Chemistry
* Medical Science

Combat Skills:
* Fencing
* Self-Defense

What Do They Carry On Them:
* Clothing - Black knit sweater, dark washed jeans, Doc Martens, black overcoat, skull earrings
* Purse/Wallet - M.E. Badge, ID, debit card, credit card, $30 cash
* iPhone
* Medical Examiner Kit
* Water Bottle
* Agatha Christie Novella
* Keys (Car, House, Lab)
* Pepper Spray
* Camelot armor that turns into a signet ring
* Small pet bat that can detect where dead bodies are buried

Possessions In At Home:
* Fencing Equipment
* Diplomas
* Black Cat (Wednesday)
* Black Volkswagen Beetle
* Unsolved Mystery Novels
* Pathology Reference Books
* Childhood Dream Diary
* Current Journal
* Emergency First Aid Kit
* Laptop

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History
Biography: Megan was adopted by a pair of doctors unable to have a child. They had tried just about everything and had resigned themselves to the fact that short of a medical miracle, adoption was going to be the only way to bring a child into their home. They had intended to go adopt a baby, but they just felt drawn to the little girl with blonde braids and took her home with them. And since they expected her to become a doctor as well, they didn't change Megan's last name - they didn't need another Dr. Montgomery in the household, it was confusing enough already.

Her parents provided a loving household for Megan, but they were also relentless. She had to compete in some sort of sport or participate in an activity, and the only one she showed a remote interest in was fencing, so they paid for her to have private lessons after school three times a week. Each summer, she was sent to at least five different camps, all ranging from different STEM subjects. They worried that she might be troubled, since she was adopted, so she had to attend counseling sessions once a week. In high school, she had to take every AP class offered, even if it didn't interest her. She ended up graduating two years early. And when it came time for college, they used their connections to get Megan into an accelerated program that combined undergrad and medical school into just seven years.

Her interest in pathology came from her love of true crime stories and unsolved mysteries, prompting her to take a job as the Junior M.E. in her hometown. She really enjoys the work, finding a sense of fulfillment in working with the cases - though most of her work actually comes from overflow cases from nearby cities that are larger than Wichita. The extreme pressure put on her by her parents has had some psychological ramifications, mainly insomnia and a brief period of suicidal behavior in her first few years of college, but Megan has started to come around the bend. Now that she's living independently and does not rely on her parents financially (they paid for medical school in full), she's able to stay up all night watching horror movies if she wants to.

Do They Remember Anything?: Megan was ten years old when she left Camelot and came to the real world. Despite being one of the oldest children taken by the rebels, the psychiatrist managed to convince her (and her adoptive parents) that she simply had an overactive imagination. After all, every little girl wanted to be a princess, didn't they? She still has the little journal she used to draw her dreams in and while her dreams of Camelot are less frequent now, they are still incredibly vivid when she has them.

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Additional Information

Theme Song:

Extra Information: X-Men; Jack Frost
I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.

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Relations

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Megan Pendragon
"It's the darkness... It has me."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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💞 Jack Gold 💞
"Ugh, he can be so disgusting..."
Jack and Megan are adoptive siblings, only three days apart in age. They grew up together in the same overbearing household, having to deal with the weight of their adoptive parents' expectations. And now, as adults, they work at the same precinct - Jack is a detective, whereas Megan is the Junior Medical Examiner. They're roommates as well and tend to have similar sleep habits (Jack drinks his weight in caffeine and Megan is an insomniac) and they get along pretty well.

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Symbol Characters Name Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Characters Name Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Characters Name Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Characters Name Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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[User]
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Matthew Madigan

Location: Table > Car
Skills:

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Matthew's face flushed red once more as Colby went on about how this was good for him and how he needed to be more adventurous. It sounded like the kind of thing youd hear in a young adult novel just before the friend or lover convinces the protagonist to go off on a grande adventure that would forever change their life. Maybe this would be good for him, maybe this will help them get closer in one way or another? Or maybe they'll all get killed and die in the process. It was all still very unknown. Matthew watched as Colby took the boxes and made his way out, staying for a few seconds longer to collect himself before marching off towards the car.

He made his way into the backseat, being careful not to disturb the mess or uh...hunting gear, that they had. As soon as Cassiopa opened her mouth, matthew immediately began to get nervous again. He hadnt even noticed but his hand was gently tugging against the jacket he was wearing, breathe held, and eyes cast down as he thought about the possibility of his death. "H-hopefully it doesn't come to that, r-right? It'll be fine. We have t-two Hoods, a k-kid of Pendragon, and...and...well I'm sure we'll be fine." Surelt he would drag this party down. He was the NPC escort that the D&D party had to protect. No skills, no magic, just ordinary "Mad"dy.

[Assistant]
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Rose Buckner

Location: Trailhead
Skills: N/A

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"We should go camping sometime then. After all this is figured out." She waved her hand vaguely. Rose thought about Sierra's question for a little while. "Well I don't usually get off work from the bar until pretty late like 2 am. So I don't think I'll go tonight. I do have tomorrow off. I'll probably go tomorrow. Do you want to go with me?"

She didn't want to go alone and figured Willow wasn't going to be down with going. And with Mab off dealing with other stuff... She sighed frustrated. Mab was supposed to be helping her with this. This was their thing. She regretted bringing in the others a bit, but at least Sierra was involved.

"Do you think Willow will be okay?" The girl had seemed really distressed. Rose felt bad for her and chewed on her lip a bit as she continued down the hiking trail. "Like, think she'll make it up with her mom? I don't know how I would handle it if I was in her place. She's got to be over 18 why didn't they at least tell her then?" Rose asked rhetorically, there wasn't any way that Sierra knew the answer.

---

---

Colby Jackson

Location: Hood's car
Skills: N/A

---

---

Colby rolled his eyes at Layla's 'joke'. "Honestly, it was fair. If it had been me I might have done a similar thing." He shrugged. He really didn't blame her for her reaction to Matthew's note. That had been just as weird as Tink's staring. Why not just be direct? He didn't get it.

"Love the idea of being maimed. Basically a life goal of mine." But then he caught how nervous Matthew looked. He sighed slightly, trying to keep some annoyance at him out of his voice. "We'll be fine. You know we're only going up against Maleficent. How hard can she be to beat? Didn't she just have like a rock tossed on her head or something?" Colby asked, sort of joking, but also definitely getting Maleficent and the witch from snow white mixed up.


[System]
Age: 20? He isn't sure.

Race: Super Mutant

Sex: Male (?)

Skills: Construction, hand to hand/close range combat, basic first aid, cooking skills (oddly), able chess player

Personality: Guarded, loner, distrusting of most,  fearless in the face of danger, if someone can make friends with him, there is almost blind loyalty, to the point of taking offense to those who attack those he cares about.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Rook is a monster among men, standing at 8 foot 9 inches tall, he is rather intimidating. This is further compounded by the fact he wears hand made armor, welded steel plates, barbed wire wrapped bracers, and a helmet that covers most of his face, he looks closer to the knights of old, Pre-war holo tapes.

His weapon is out that era as well. He carries a hand made pike. Plate steel welded to a steel pipe that is filled with cement and wrapped with leather. Given his size and power, it's a wonder any dare to challenge him. His only ranged weapon is almost comical. A simple, well worn 10mm pistol, and no, he is far from a good shot. He saves it for if he cannot reach something at all.
(Previous) Occupation(s): Mercenary

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None

Backstory: One of the first FEV experiments by the Institute, Rook used to be a normal person. He doesn't recall where he was from, his name, or anything of that nature. He knew he enjoyed playing chess however, and has scattered memories of playing that with an old woman in blue.

When he was made, he was deemed a failure because of his refusal to take orders. They sent a corsair to end his life. This... did not go as planned, as Rook ripped his arms off and proceeded to beat the synth to death with them. He was eventually subdued, shot in the head, and dumped in the sewers.

The Institute, with all the power of their minds, had not realized just how resilient a Super Mutant could be. He awoke in the sewers, and fought his way free once more. He spent time healing, and learning more about his abilities.

His hide out was eventually attacked by Raiders. At first he planned to simply flee, but when he saw the slaves, the people being pushed around, he felt he had to do something. In the world's worst game of Hide and Seek, Rook made himself known. His massive physical strength made it easy to kill the first two, and acquire a weapon. A simple, elegant, deadly machete.

By the end of it, the raiders had been slain, and he opened the door to free the people... and they freaked out. He tried to explain his side, that he was not here to hurt them, but they remained unconvinced. When they escaped, they kept looking at him like he was a monster.

He went through the raiders items, cobbled together crude armor, collected the weapons, and set off, calling himself Rook. It just seemed to fit. He spent years slowly working up a reputation among the wastelanders, who never seemed to trust him, and he grew to hate that.

His most recent job had him guarding a caravan to Salem. The town was growing, and he didn't sign back on. Perhaps he could start a new here.

[User]
Rook had not been shot at this far. So far, so good. He walked into town, still holding his white flag, and looked at the various buildings. There was... A lot of work that needed to be done here. When he had arrived at first, it was late, and he had not ventured very far away from his shack in the last week or so. It was not his place, and he had what he needed... But seeing this place, the terrible state it was in... He had resolved himself.

In his years, he had picked up a few skills here and there, perhaps he could put them to use here. While he was far from the best at things, being as strong as he was, he could carry things, help move heavy things, and generally help clean up. He knew some basics of black smithing as well, it's how he made parts of his armor, so there is that too. Nails and the like are always needed.

He had seen the ugliness of the Wastelands, and if he had his way, he was not going to let this place get swallowed up by it either. Stopping at a stall, he had seen it was long since abandoned. How many years ago did this settlement try to stand up only to falter and fall? He ran his hands over the well worn wood of the stand, it had a story to tell, one he wished to know, but that would come in time. Lifting back up his flag, he would look around. Was there a posted board for jobs? Was there a trader looking for someone to trade with? What was currently here?

At the moment, Rook just stood in the center of town, holding his white flag, bag of caps, and looking somewhat lost.

"You... Are not what I expected..." Barney Rook said, holding his rifle and looking at the Mutant. "But... You are not looking to be causing trouble... So as long as it stays that way, I think I can let you pass... But the Salem Volunteer Milita is always watching. Know that..."

"Rook will do as human says. Rook is seeking to trade, seeking to help. Rook wants home of his own. Does not like other Super Mutants. Does not like to hurt humans unless he has to." Rook said, holding his flag tightly. "Rook wants to help town, Rook wants to stay in Rook's Roost."

Barney looked confused, then realized the mutant was talking about itself. With a nod, Barney moved off, leaving Rook still wondering what he should do in order to start.

[Assistant]
Lorelei Jones - Outside the Jones Residence

Lorelei folded her arms and stared down the withered two-story home at the edge of the town. Barney had pointed her toward the various empty plots, and particularly recommended this one. She could see why. This house was a lonely one; a perfect fit for a gradual misanthrope like herself. It was nothing like the home she had lost, but it would do. She meandered over the door and opened it, the ruined wood porch creaking underneath her light steps.

This will need work. The place was a disaster. There were a few amenities, namely a leftover couch, broken television, a ruined kitchen, and a few armchairs, but the rest was disgusting. Trash and grime had built up just about everywhere she looked, and the paint that once resided within the house had been shed off by the walls that once wore it.

Lorelei gingerly tiptoed upstairs, carefully testing the ground for nails and dislodged pieces of wood. The second floor featured two bedrooms, a restroom, and what appeared to be some sort of office space. More old world furniture rested here. Both bedrooms were equipped with dusty old doublebeds and the office held a desk, pointed at the back window which faced the ocean.

This was an underrated amenity, Lorelei realized – the ocean rested directly behind her home. A weak, inconsistent fence sat between her house and the slight rocky outcropping which overlooked the water, but she had an unobstructed line of sight toward the ocean wherever she looked. She tossed her pack onto the bed and sat down, scanning the room for the work she would have to do. Nonsense. This would come later. For now, she had to introduce herself at least somewhat to the town, even if it meant standing around the square and watching the others talk.

Lorelei left the house and lazily strolled toward the square, where the local tenants darted to and fro, moving in their belongings and laying claim to the town. She looked up at the massive apartment structures and perused the various abandoned vendor stands in the center. She could imagine them filled with people, a town clutching to life. However, now was the time for them to lay down the bricks, to which she had little interest. She was at her best when she was wandering – the house would just be a formality.

After a few moments of standing at the edge of the square, Lorelei decided to sit on a park bench and watch the passersby as she cleaned the barrel of her rifle atop her lap.

[User]
FRIEDA RICHTER -- entering Salem

First, it had been Highway 28. Then, 114. Ancient signs said she was heading southeast to Salem, MA, and she hoped for the best. It had been nearly 7 days since she crashed in the terrible rad storm she had neither predicted, nor plotted correctly.

She would be the first to reflect on the irony of one of the Enclave's best pilots being waylaid by a mere bout of bad weather. Frieda would also, for a moment, allow herself the luxury of admitting a lesser pilot would be dead, whereas she merely stepped out of the wreckage with scratches. She had become a little sloppy, as of late. The loss of her brother made for a terrible distraction. He had been one of the best at what he did, too, and yet the wasteland had won.

It would score another point from her, and soon, if she didn't find some water, work, and some more goddamn cigarettes.

She plodded on. She wouldn't let the wasteland claim her without a fight.

The general lack of population was confusing, to her. Frieda had been in the field several times but always had some inaccurate idea that the wasteland was just flooded with tribals and mutants. That had not been the case on her journey from the southern border of what had been New Hampshire, into Massachusetts. She passed a handful of homesteads, but none of the residents would give her the time of day, let alone the chance to earn some caps or trade. The rest of the buildings were in shambles, or just simply unoccupied.

Signs beckoning travellers to ancient tourist attractions in Salem began to pop up more frequently as she walked along. Frieda could only imagine that she were coming up to the place, and soon. Her skin felt greasy and dirty, not having had any real bath since she broke ranks, and the heaviness of how much she had taken for granted was starting to weigh on her, too. She shifted her knapsack uncomfortably, one of its straps snagging on a piece of armour she relieved from a corpse off the side of the road.

Disgusting. It's all disgusting.

She sniffed. Homesickness? This won't do. You'll survive this. You trained your whole life, for this.

In her brooding, she nearly missed the turnoff to enter Salem, almost tripping over the low, ruined fence outside the Museum of Witchcraft. She looked down the road and was impressed to see some signs of life: various figures moving between and around the buildings down the way. Glancing back to the south, the rear end of a caravan was shrinking into the scenery. Perhaps there was some hope, after all.

Frieda walked down the road, sand and gravel crunching underneath her boots. She noticed a woman sitting on the beach, drinking a soda and humming to herself. She raised an eyebrow but continued on. I'd rather avoid what looks like the village idiot. She passed the diner, but paid it little mind, though she noticed a tall man with dark hair and a moustache walk towards its entrance. She'd try the diner later, if the rest of the place seemed empty.

Frieda rounded the corner, and passed the ruined church to enter a town square, proper. She thought she saw someone at the back of the church, too, but on second glance, no one was there.

The town square was quaint, if anything. Ramshackle, and abandoned, trading stands stood proudly in the sun. It looked as though some giant child had placed them there as part of a play-village setting. Once the cute thought had passed, she sighed, heavily. A breeze echoed her, stirring up dust and debris at her feet, to blow down the pathway.

A figure in a touque was retreating past the back of the church -- but more importantly, they were chugging on a cigarette. Frieda's mouth practically started to water at the sight of it. I'm sure I've got something I could trade for a single smoke. "Hey!" she called, thrusting her left hand into the air and waving. "Hey, excuse me! Hold up!"

The figure she called to seemed not to hear a word she said. What did surprise her was what she had thought was an old tree turned around, instead.

Worse. A goddamn greenskin! Frieda's right hand dropped like a flash to her plasma pistol, popped it from her belt, and squeezed off a single round to land in the dirt next to the creature's feet by way of warning shot. "I don't know how you got into town without anyone noticing, but I'm giving you this single chance to get the hell out of here, before my next two shots take out your knees. Do I make myself clear?"

[Assistant]
The woman walking up was a nice sight. She was here to trade perhaps? Oh! Maybe she needed help with something and was going to ask... Or shoot at him... And yell. That was cool too. Rook frowned, looking at himself and then at her. He wasn't exactly trying to hide, and he had just gotten permission to be here. Why did he have to go now?

"Old man said Rook could be here! Rook is here to trade! Why lady shoot at Rook? What Rook do now?" He yelled, waving the white flag once. "Flag mean no shoot! Why lady shoot anyways? Does lady not know what flag means? Flag... White... No shoot at Rook."

He didn't move, like he was rooted to the ground and unwilling to budge. The old man with Reba came running fast around the corner, rifle raised towards Rook... Then saw he hadn't exactly moved in the moment he was gone. He had a puzzled expression before seeing the woman with the plasma pistol. Then it clicked.

"Woah! Ma'am! Relax. Rook here just got here. We here at Salem are all about giving people a chance. He has been living near by for about a week. While I don't trust Super Mutants usually, Rook here isn't looking to cause any trouble. I saw him in his armor on his way here, was worried for a while. Then he killed a Mirelurk king and claimed it's home for his own. Damned sight that was. Can we lower the guns and talk this out?"

"Yeah! Rook not do anything bad. Rook has caps to trade. And muscle to move things!" He said, as if rather proud of those two facts.


[System]
Age: 16
Appearance: Regina stands at about 5'4. Aside from her military uniform, she often wears a set of high quality clothes.
Bio/Summary: Regina is the daughter of Lord Peter Cormier, a famous commoner-turned-noble who has saved the life of an important person in the Empire. Having been granted a title of nobility, all that Peter has wanted to do was retire and set his kids up. However, political pressure from those who held disdain toward the former commoner forced him to show he was not part of the riff-raff anymore. Thus, both a militia under Lord Cormier and sending his daughter to Cadenza Military Academy were necessary, much to his annoyance.

Despite her father's attitude, Regina liked the idea of going somewhere new. A new opportunity to see the world was all it took to strike her fancy instead of staying back home with Lord Cormier. However, when she arrived at the academy her father's influence on her was apparent. She spoke differently than most of the nobles despite her mother, Selena Cormier, being one and teaching Regina the finer touches of nobility. This ultimately causes her to stand out to both commoners and nobles, as her mannerisms and style of dress stem from both influences, though her father's is more apparent. Even so Regina is usually nice to everyone but does not overdo it.
Vessel: Irregular's Life-While the vessel is in a dormant state, the vessel is a bracelet. When activated, the vessel turns into the form of a large sniper rifle, capable of firing at long distances with a total of 3 shots consecutively before needing a recharge, which requires at least one and a half minutes if not more of time. While not suitable for close quarters or short range by any means, it is effective at a distance.
Abilities:
Irregular Ambush-If an enemy does not know that Regina is there until the shot is fired, an explosion occurs upon impact of the bullet as well as increased penetrative power and stopping power.
Mark-Allows Regina to mark a target, tracking them with her own eyes even if they are hidden from view,
knowing exactly where they are until they are either out of the area, not a threat, Regina chooses another target, or Regina's vessel returns to a dormant state.
Equipment: Short-sword, Lord Cormier's survival hatchet, book, entrenching tool (when out in the field)
Trivia/Other: Regina is fairly rich, but does not like to show as such. Regina is also extremely knowledgeable about traps and laying them thanks to Lord Cormier's insistence. She has a soft spot for nature and furry animals.

[User]
---

Regina heard the responses of her fellow cadets and couldn't help but frown in disappointment and adjusted her glasses. Battle experience or not, relying on such a flimsy plan with a low chance of success and relying specifically on the birds getting the right angle and height at the right time without any indication of some kind of contingency was not good in her book. Even less so when it showed that Gradon made a point of being "Imperial Cadets." In the end, it didn't matter. Imperial cadets or no, Princess of not, leader or not, their plan had a lot of holes in it. So much so, that Regina felt any other plan was better than this one. After all, her father told her that no plan ever survived contact with a hostile, or anything really.

However, before Regina could make any other arguments in her fearful state, she noticed Esther start to make her movements. Immediately, whatever reservations that Regina had were gone as well as any physical sign of fear. Instead, her mind went toward saving her comrade from the high-risk low-potential to work plan. Despite the rocs outside and the arguments of any of the cadets Regina bolted outside the door, sprinting past Althea who was near the door in what could be a dangerous speed for indoors. It was only thanks to her agility that she did not get hurt, but right now she only had one priority in mind even if anyone else didn't know it. On the way, she barely noticed Szeren firing her light crossbow at the Rocs.

She watched, sprinting, as Esther battled the Roc. Regina was not as quick as Esther with her wind magic, which was why she was behind. The battle ended with Esther on the ground and the Roc crashing into a nearby building. It would not be long before the Roc came back to its senses and further pestered them. She heard the sound of Rocs screeching and already knew that one of them found her and would either be swooping in for its skinny meal or about to be. On the other hand, the Roc on the ground needed to be taken down and this was the best time to do so. Regina made a snap decision to stop, aim down the sights of the rifle quickly and pull the trigger out in the open with a snapshot. The shot may not even connect with the downed Roc, but Regina was ready to meet her fate whether that was to keep running or to be in the stomach of a Roc.

[Assistant]
---

World's End Strait

---

Ires looked up when Regina manifested her disapproval of the plan. "I understand that each of us has different views and experiences. Trusting one another might not be so easy as well. But we cannot afford to be divided so easily," the Princess appealed to Regina as the others began to put the plan into practice. "Even if that's not the best option, that's a hardship we chose as a group," she pointed to the others as they already mobilized themselves to actualize her plan, "Are you with us or not?"

Ires noticed that some of the others also showed reluctance, or perhaps disdain, for their strategy, but the time was running short. They couldn't exactly get any more delays. "I hope everything goes as planned," she thought as she followed Gradon, right after another of the rocs swooped by.

Meanwhile, "Alright, now it's time to put this show on the road!" Viola said as she followed Tzi and Esther, taking care of their rearguard. The heavily armored girl seemed quite psyched up once they decided upon a plan and followed it to the best of her ability. Right on time too as another of the roc swooped by with its razor claws.

"Oh no, you won't!" Viola shouted as she rebuked it with her shield.

The roc was quite literally thrown off of its course, struggling to retain its flight, beating its wings in an ungraceful manner as it tried its best to not touch the ground. In the end, the bird managed to pull back, freeing the space for Esther to execute the Princess' maneuver.

Viola followed Esther to the tower and helped her prepare the rope. "Have you even hear about the Knights of Legends? I've always found it interesting but never thought I'd be on their place someday... kind of," she added while taking a hold of the rope, after all, they clearly couldn't trust the walls to hold it.

After Ires reached her destination, she waited for Gradon to come and take the other end of the rope along with her. As soon as they were done with this step, their plan relied only on Leblanc's ability to look like an appetizing treat to the gigantic birds. Which, she probably was quite capable of; what with her... physique, and outfit, and... "What, in the Goddess name, am I thinking at a time like this?"

[User]
Leblanc Farris
 [[ Location : World's End Straits]]

"Is this really the time for changing course?" Leblanc called out in blunt deadpan, brow twitching with an irritation gnawing at her adrenaline fueled enjoyment of hectic events. On the very cusp of letting loose without any need to pull her punches before a live audience and they just had to bicker about it. If Esther and others didn't go through their portion then she'd have been liable to throw her hands in the air and storm off.

Not that the Rocs had any intent of allowing the woman standing idle in the open any such opportunity, and it was not long at all before the Bait found a taker eager to sink it's talons into her exposed flesh.

"Incoming-" She erupted from the square with the avian menace altering its descent to pursue as her hands clutched the taut rope stretched overhead and spun herself end over end with her momentum. A glance to either side assured her that the more physically inclined were bolstering the support the structures with their own strength and she hoped her acrobatics wouldn't prove as distracting for them as the rapid movement would be to the approaching Roc. "Pardon me. Just baiting the line."

Seeing the Roc soon to strike Leblanc released the rope and shot herself skywards over the passing bird whose snapping beak found only empty air while a braided rope struck it's it's over-extended neck. Where it human, the rasping noises of a desperate desire for air may have actually done something to heighten Leblanc's blood lust, but alas this was the peak of her enjoyment. Twisting herself as though a screw, her feet faced the sky as her body drove downwards upon her prey, knife brandished to silence the ungainly caws with a blade shoved through it's eye and into the Roc's brain.

A waste of a perfectly good eye as a trophy, but there was still the twin to dig out if they so desired.

[Assistant]
TZI TI'AMTUM

Tzi Ti'amtum was having fun.

It wasn't really a rare occurrence, but the muscular young man thought that being dive bombed by giant birds (even if they were really just little bird tots and thus not big enough to really be a super giant bird) was a new and exciting enough thing that he just had to mention it. The islands didn't really have anything that huge to fight or hunt, and none of the blokes in the port towns would've gotten the chance to even see something bigger than a pelican. So being able to get a chance to not only see so many of them in flight, but to also fight them mano-a-mano so that his pals' plans could bear fruition, was something that got the blood pumping.

A bit distracting though, he had to admit to himself as he ducked underneath sweeping claws, awkwardly parrying the attack with his trident as blood rushed past his ears. He needed to step up his game. Otherwise they wouldn't be having dinner.

Right, just gotta aim for the wings ...

His trident glowed with power as the anchor detached once more, this time rocketing through the air with a loud bang as it stabbed into the left wing of an unfortunate, diving roc. Red splattered from the wound, but the anchor had successfully impaled itself into the flesh, and the magical chain was tangling up around the wing and into its meat and bones. Tzi grinned. That was one bird caught.

The tall youth pulled with considerable strength, swing his trident downwards in an attempt to pull it to the earth. Any other birds around it would find one of their brothers swinging towards them. He wasn't going to just pull one roc, not when he could try and bludgeon a few more of them on the way down.

He hoped birds could recognise the smell of their own blood. If it did, he'd successfully grab more of their attention.


[System]
Element:Boron
Age: 42
Gender: Male

Appearance: A short, stout man with rounded shoulders and a shining, bald head, middle-aged and usually dressed for a day spent outdoors(button up cotton shirts and cargo pants usually in the summer his sleeves are rolled up just past the elbow). 1.6 meters tall and not quite over weight. Deep red-brown skin that is smooth and surprisingly tough. Often slips from memory, or at least into obscure memory shortly after leaving direct observation, he has worked to develop an "average" aura.

Powers: reflects heat and isn't burned by anything under 2300 K(~2050 *C), is immune electric shock(non-conductive), and can shift into a pile, or low, drifting cloud of brown dust. He also wasn't as affected by the gas during basic training as the other recruits, though his sergeant said there was usually one kid who wasn't bothered by the stuff.

Weapons: A Nosler M48 TGR, a boron carbide tomahawk with a polished cherry wood handle, and a K-bar usually worn on his belt. (only the K-bar is usually carried, the rest he keeps in his car trunk or in a locker at home.

Backstory: A Native American born on a reservation in North Carolina, his powers didn't manifest until his late teens. Tecum, as most called him, hid his powers as best he could, knowing the power of fear first hand already. He hated school and joined the military to avoid college, where he became a paratrooper. He worked with the airborne artillery in the 82nd for ten years before being honorably discharged. Now he runs a small tour service in the NC mountain;, where he meets many people and learns more from listening to their talk than they think. He's working on locating other "elementals" mostly out curiosity and knowing that they will be considered outcasts, and freaks, just as his people are in America.
He has inherited a large portion of a largely unpopulated mountain in NC and is buying up the rest as he can. He has built a modest but sturdy house there, and is considering building a dormitory style shelter for any elementals that he may find. He is very secretive, while being an outgoing and engaging person. He does this by saying a lot without ever actually saying anything of value. He's never broken any laws, but he's not very fond of the US government or Europeans in general, because of his people's history with both groups. He can live off the land if he needs to, but enjoys the modern accommodations in his home and car.
He currently lives alone, though he had hopes of marrying one day, those dreams seem out of reach now. In private, his few good friends now him to be kind and protective as well as tenacious and vicious in his defense of family or retaliation on their behalf. His parents are dead, having died early due drug and alcohol addictions. He has no siblings, but considers his squad to be family and keeps up with each member. He is often called "Uncle Tecum" by the children of his squad mates, a name he encourages and lives up to with pride.

[User] Dan looked up to see what appeared to be a teenage girl in a Sailor Moon shirt asking him something in Italian. Dan did not speak Italian. Nor did he tend to jump out of trains, so he decided that this was the first time for both. Coughing a little bit, he started to speak. "Uh... Pizza, pasta, bongioahno, monsignioah, uh... Fuck it. I think you said somethin' that sounded like 'break', so I'll just assume ya asked if I broke somethin'. I didn't. I'm fine. And, uh, yeah. Please tell me you ain't anothah one of them supahfreaks. Oah the govahment. Oah one o' them secret Alien Lizahd Jews that runs the global economy. Don't be any a' those things. Please."

[Assistant]
The ignorance of youth... Tecumseh sighed and wondered just what to tell Alessandra. He would tell her the truth, he knew that, but how much of it could she handle? She already seemed to be under a lot of stress and adding to that burden would accomplish nothing good. Start small then, Tecumseh glanced at his plate as he took another bite himself, almost swallowing the small bite whole.

I wanted to be certain that you were what I thought you might be. And if you were, to let you know you weren't the only one in the world and warn you that life would be difficult for you because you are not like most people. People fear what they do not understand, and they do not understand any of us. I've been on the path you've only just started to walk, all my life. It is a hard path, full of fear, hate, and pain. The broadcast from NY is going to escalate things rather quickly. It is neither wise nor safe to share your skills with anyone you don't trust with your life. So consider carefully what you will do now. What you do now is up to you. Choose your steps wisely.

Tecumseh returns to his food, letting Alessandra consider the information she'd just been given. He knew her life had been difficult and that it was about to get much harder, thanks to the nuts in NY. He hoped she'd escape the notice of those that were now inevitably looking for elementals, but knew it was a matter of time before she found herself surrounded by probes, wires and tubes.

[User]
Alessandra Guillory

Alessa maintained her displeased expression for a minute, before softening up.

"Well...Thank you, I guess"

Alessa continued to eat, trying to clear her mind of the information placed before her. She remained silent for the most part, waiting for anyone else to speak up. Jason wanted to, but still wasn't sure just how to lighten up the situation. So he too, just sat in silence. Alessandra finally spoke up once more after her bout of speechlessness. "I think I should get back to the dig site, thank you for the meal." She said, standing up and pushing her chair back into place. Jason simply got up as well, no objection, barely any show of emotion from him.

Talia Molina

"Well, I'm not an alien lizard, but I am a Jew with a goverment job" Talia replied mockingly in English, "Hope that's okay". She spoke with a sardonic smile as she looked over Dan. "Here, let me help you with that," She said as she reached into her bag and pulled out a first aid kit. If Dan would let her, Talia was going to bandage up the cuts from the glass, maybe wash out the particularly bad ones with some alcohol and antibiotics, and run a blood test on some sample's she'd snag from him during that.

Then, it caught her attention that the train had suddenly come to a full stop, and then it was moving...backwards?
This just screams elemental activity, Talia thought to herself as she watched it.

"Hey, you mind telling me what's going on on that train?" she asked Dan, pointing to it as it rolled back past them.

[Assistant] Dan allowed himself to be cleaned up by the kind, though Jewish, young girl. "Allow me to describe foah you what's goin' on in that train. You got a man made outta metal who named himself aftah that Google Browsah fightin' with a man who breathes nitrogen oah somethin'. Theyah's also two sistahs, one who sweats balloon juice and one who sweats hydrogen, a balls a' steel fella named "Jerry", and a beautiful young woman who is completely flawless. They'ah all watchin' from the sidelines. Now then, if you'ah satisfied that I'm psychotic, I think ya can take yoah leave now. Oah not, if ya want to hang around to watch some moah pointless fights between supah powah'd freaks."

[User]
While he was laying on the ground, Jan was able to pull his remaining glove off with his teeth as Chrome stopped throwing metal around the train. He continued to lay on the ground until the metal man grabbed him by the coat and pull him to his feet. It was at that moment that the Nitrogen element slipped out of his white coat and staggered away from his enemy to get some distance between them. He grabbed the metal lodged in his shoulder and gritted his teeth as it was pulled out and fresh pain shot through his body followed by a new pain of frostbite setting in to stop the bleeding and covered the wound with a thin layer of ice. "Now then, how about we have a fair fight like gentlemen." Jan told the man as he straightened his vest and moved into a boxer stance with both hands held up in front of his while bouncing on the balls of his feet ready for anything that Chrome would throw at him.

This wasn't Jan's first time in a fight and in his time he became skilled with some stand up fighting. He did enjoy his unfair advantage when it came to hand to hand combat with each time he hit his opponent with bare fists that spot if bare skin caused frostbite and if clothes, they became damp with cooled nitrogen molecules.

[Assistant]
Tecumseh finished his shepherd's pie in silence and was about to call in dessert when the other two rose, announcing their intent to leave. That wouldn't bother him, he'd meant exactly what he said. He wasn't about to tell either of them how to live their lives, but he knew Alessandra needed to be warned that things were going to get worse. Having someone at the site to help smooth over any ruffles would be good for her as well. He knew it was a lot to dump on their shoulders, but they were young, they would find a way to survive, just as he had.

Dessert is on it's way if you want it. You know where to find me if you need me.

[User]
Chloe's eyes moved of their own accord to the gaping hole in the side of the train. It wasn't going too fast. She could probably find Dan and make sure he was alright if she managed to, well, not break anything on the way out. A pale green cloud hissed from her mouth as she watched the situation continue to escalate. Well, she'd sort of done what she could. Now or never. She didn't want to get a piece of metal stuck through her brain, or the effects of contact with supercooled nitrogen.

"Adios," she said, edging around Chrome carefully. She jumped out of the train and rolled gracefully(?!) along the ground while covering her head to prevent any smashing of her precious skull on impact. When she finally stopped, a dull ache groaned in her ribcage...but it could have been a lot worse than the bruises that Chloe knew would be coming around to haunt her soon. Stiffly, she got to her feet, dusted herself off, cast a worried glance at the train that was now speeding away, and sauntered along the side of the track toward Dan and a girl who had apparently seen far too much for one day.

[Assistant]
Chrome looked around, and felt a stinging on his torso. His oxide failed, the nitrogen was now wreaking havoc on his body. As the train moved back into the station and the conductor gained control again, he finally took note of where he was.
 "Shit!" He cried out as he fell out the gash in the train, he landed on the train tracks with a thud. He tried to get up but was completely stuck on to the ground. He realized with yet another curse that this was one of the newer bullet trains and he hit himself mentally for not taking note of that when he was moving the train back up. His was enraged still and shot out his magnetic powers, breaking the track and freeing him. He frowned however when a dark skinned man looked down at him. The man's eyes widened and he screamed as Chrome looked back at him.
 Crappity Crap! Chrome thought. He got up by climbing up the side of the train track, no powers, just the electromagnetic power of the track pulling him. He looked around and frowned. People were looking at him, and he took note of a crowd that were holding their phones up.
 "God Damnit!" He shouted, pulling his arms over his head. The fight would have to wait, he needed to get out of here.


[System]
Captain
Hugh Talbain - a Knight, played by Lugubrious. While before he merely pretended to be a knight, Hugh now lives and fights as one, though his time as an actor continues to bleed through. The most dramatic pauser.

Front Line
Lilith Merdox - a Mercenary, played by Crimson Raven. Though a painful past has left its mark on her, she is all the tougher for it, and not forgotten where she cam from. The lustiest for riches.
Jakobe Russenfalt - a Cavalier, played by Multi_Media_Man. A soldier through and through, he doesn't let dreams of honor distract him from a reality that needs his help. The most knightly.
Sanguin - a Myrmidon, played by Lugubrious. An alternate persona of hers -the wolf- developed to handle the stress of battle has blended too well with her normal self. The biggest drinker.
Ronin - a Fighter, played by nobody. Wielding a near-impossible to use Imposing Axe, Ronin is unfailingly bold and totally convinced of his own fighting prowess. Beneath the confidence, however, he is painfully aware of his own faults and flaws, and has dismal self-esteem. The faintest after long walks.
Franky Lonnas - a Barbarian, played by Xan the G. This sarcastic, thrill-seeking pirate met his match with a run-in with the Bravuran military, and now atones on the path to freedom. The bravest gambler.

Second Line
Nickolas Rienbach - a Dark Mage, played by TentacleLord. Though at times disturbingly familiar with death, this roamer can boast a genial nature and heroic intent. The lightest dark mage there is.
Kuur Salcair - an Archer, played by TentacleLord. Hyper-competitive yet oddly stoic when it comes to socializing, this venturous young lady wishes to see the world. The most gullible.
Habeen Nocta - a Dark Mage, played by Toadropes. A traveler from lands abroad and a Plegian by birth, this wanderer's only constant is her unflappable good mood. The most unnervingly cheerful.
Syrena - a Mage, played by Prince of Seraphs. A fire burns inside this sweet young girl, one that expelled her from her broken home and into the unforgiving world. The likeliest to repeat syllables.
Taene - a Manakete, played by Cinderella Man. A stoic thrill-seeker, seemingly only vehement when challenged or given the chance to experience something new. The one with the coldest breath.

Variable Position
Gaius Secundus - a Tactician, played by Crimson Raven. Just now officially beginning as a battle strategist, this mellow young man is anxious to do his father's teaching proud. The lightest sleeper.
Jeane Robina - a Thief, played by Toadropes. No mere petty brigand, she sustains a unique set of morals paired with dashing charisma. The first one to steal from the rich and give to the poor.
Kel - a Wyvern Rider, played by Experiment 249. Though flippant, slow to respect authority, and oftentimes lazy, Kel is a man with powerful bonds, be it with his sister or his treasured dragon. The smokiest-smelling.
Dylan Caercot - a Pegasus Rider, played by Burthstone. A courier who blames himself for his sister's death, and whose aspiration to join the Reclaimers came true in a lucky break. The least tanned.

Support
Marcus Ambrosias - a Priest, played by Prince of Seraphs. Few know that this worldly, social, selfless monk once practiced the black arts as a Dark Mage. The one with the most pockets.
Timothy Wolfe - a Priest, played by nobody. Still shy even after the bullies trouble him no longer, Tim diverged from his magical background to heal instead. The most beloved by animals.

Ex-Members
Arkhant - a Mage. Heir to a grand lineage of magicians, Arkhant is determined to uphold the family legacy through learning and adventure. After a grave wound on Mission 1, Westroad Village, he lost his fire to be a Reclaimer and left for home.

[User]
Arkhant and Ronin - Westroad Village
As Ronin and Arkhant took up positions at the rear of the pub the roof was set ablaze with Syrena's particular brand of fire magic. The lancers inside no doubt suspecting that they were being driven into the open divided there forces between the two exits hoping that at least one would get away unharmed. They were mistaken.

At the rear of the building Ronin and Arkhant readied for a fight. Four lancers came charging out and as they did so Ronin ran to meet them. He swung his enormous Imposing Axe intended to take the head off the first lancer. However the weapon was so unwieldy and commanded so much momentum that he was unable to alter it's course when the lancer dove for cover. His giant weapon hit the wall of the pub cracking threw a support beam and causing the door to collapse on one of the enemy units.

At a bit safer a distance Arkhant was preparing to caste wind magic against there enemies. He read the ancient language that his tome was written in and glowing orange air runes started to spiral out of the tome. With the precision born of practice he directed these at the lancer closest to Ronin hoping to disable the man before he had a chance to attack the axe wielder. Though it was clear that he had done significant damage his target was still active.

Ronin let go of the handle of his axe which was still buried deep in the wall, in order to dodge the blow of a lancer who'd recently been bombarded with wind magic. As the man thrust his spear at Ronin the bigger man dodged and grabbed the shaft of the weapon yanking the man forward pulling him off balance. With no weapon however Ronin was at a loss for how to finish him.

Seeing his chance Arkhant summoned another round of elwind and targeted the man that Ronin had just pulled off balance. The wind tore threw the air finally laying him in the dust. That was two enemies defeated. While Arkhant had been dealing with Ronin's enemies the other two lancers had rallied and were advancing on him. He prepared another draft of wind magic but there was no way for him to take out two targets in one shot. At least not before he was impaled.

Ronin saw the predicament Arkhant was in before the mage himself noticed. Soon as he was sure the lancer as his feet was unconscious Ronin ripped the Imposing Axe from the wall and charged. Ronin was attempting to lay the Imposing Axe to rest in one of the enemy combatants skulls but the large form of the weapon made it difficult to maneuver. Instead in came crashing down over the lance the man was preparing to stab Arkhant with. The lancer turned around to see who had destroyed his weapon and was met with Ronin's determined expression.

Arkhant was grateful that Ronin took one of the enemies off his hands but that still left another for him to deal with and he his tome didn't allow him to rapidly fire off spells. As the lancer drew near Arkhant became aware that he would not be able to beat the man in one blow and if he didn't the lance would pierce his chest. Instead of targeting the lancer specifically Arkhant targeted the lance. He used his influence with the wind to change the weapon's trajectory but to the surprise of its wielder. However it wasn't quite enough.

Ronin was too busy with his own problems to deal with Arkhant's. The Imposing Axe was too large for him to rearm himself with and the lancer had only head of his spear. It seemed however that the head was enough. Ronin was strong and powerful but he did not wear armor and with his weapon buried in the ground he had no defense for himself.

The spear Arkhant had redirected was pushed far north of its original target be it didn't quite clear the mage's body. The spear pierced his shoulder and stuck fast. In the moment the mage noticed Ronin was in trouble. In a desperate split second decision he summoned more wind magic but rather then use it on his own attacker he targeted Ronin's.

The wind magic struck Ronin's opponent mid strike saving the axeman's life. Ronin reached out grabbed the spear head from the disoriented man and stabbed him through the heart with it. Then he turned to Arkhant to thank him for the assist only to discover that Arkhant was having his own problems. He had a spear protruding from his shoulder and a lancer preparing to cast the final blow. Ronin quickly pulled the Imposing Axe from the ground and with his first decently aimed shot that day cleaved the lancer's head from his shoulders.

Without the lancer's grip on his weapon supporting him Arkhant fell to the ground. Ronin ran up and caught the mage's body before it hit the mud. "This is all my fault. If I wasn't so busy or so reckless." Arkhant smiled a little which appeared more like a grimace of pain. "Come on, this isn't a mortal wound. Get me to a healer and I'll be perfectly fine." Not long after that the background support healer Tim was summoned to tend to Arkhant's wounds. He would require a number of days to recover properly but for the moment he was okay to reenter battle.

[Assistant]
Kuur Salcair - Slaying the Remains

The dark-skinned woman darted forward with the agility of a leopard at the sound of metal clashing on metal and rolled past Lilith and Sanguin's melee. She came up with an arrow already laid against her bow's oiled string and aimed at the fleeing bandits.

The arrow whistled as it shot past Lilith's head and buried itself inside one of men's neck, causing the swordsman to spasm involuntarily and collapse. Another two arrows followed moments later, both finding their marks inside soft flesh of the remaining man, easily penetrating what had already scorched by the Mire curse. As the last one of the looters fell, the archer smirked. "...Easy."

Nickolas Rienbach - West Road Town

Nickolas grimaced, glancing down at the shaft of the single arrow that had the luck to fly over the heavily armored defensive line. It had penetrated his already wounded leg, leaving only three inches of the shaft and a feathered tail producing outside of his flesh.

Perhaps the universe just didn't want him to walk on that leg for a while.

Dismissing the pessimistic thoughts with a shake of his head, Nickolas put on his best smile and glanced around for the thieves he'd been told to take care of. The healing could come later. Noting their demises at the hands of the capable womanfolk, he instead turned to the cavalier. "Sir Jakobe. It appears that our final task has taken care of itself. We should move with Sir Hugh on the perpetrator of this raid."


[System]
Age: 17
Race: Human
Nationality: Dutch / Japanese

Personality: A starry eyed youth, heart ablaze and hands layered in the callouses of constant work with the spear. She laughs easily and openly, equal parts absent and ignorant to deceit as she goes about her schooling. Enjoys physical challenges, anything she can work on with her hands appeals to her, but she finds herself averse to puzzles and trivia games. Not the brightest of people but tries to compensate with earnestness and effort. Feels a touch of envy for mages who can barely lift a tome weighing more then ten pounds but can summon phantasmal creatures to aid them, but is too consious of hurting their feelings to voice or act upon it.
Backstory:
The de Windt's have a longer history in Japan then they do with their own family name, tracing their line all the way back to the early Dutch who helped crush the Shimabara-Amakusa Rebellion and securing themselves as the sole European power still tolerated in the country till their borders were forced open two centuries later. Relations tensed in the past century given world events, but their connection of the magical side of things made surviving changing times unscathed a more reasonable affair.

The descendent of Dutch merchant marines now stands, ignorant of the blood upon her lineage and with her sights set only upon a bright shining future. As a child she played with sticks, golden hair flying wildly as she chased and was chased by boys from a sleepy countryside village, the glory of a bustling market long since given way to the twilight of after years, where all still lingered neither prospering nor failing. A haven to retire to and the breeding ground of childhood ambitions for something more, the harsh clang of steel and the burn of a wooden shaft twisting against her palms.

The young Lorelai had no word for what she sought, only that she was compelled to push herself hard and long even at the expense of more mundane studies. Times of play gave way to earnest training under the attentive eye of parents, always losing herself amidst a field of sunflowers. Tilling the land for miles with only a hoe, only to carry bags of seed and sowing by hand till her blisters wept and her hands were a mix of caked dirt and weeping scarlet. She laid the groundwork for true martial training with her own hands, surrounding herself in the flowers of her long distant homeland before every knowing the true heft of a weapon in hand.

The nameless conviction carried her far from home, the sunflowers wilting as her gaze turned to the academy of her dreams, where her heart knew she'd be a step closer to fulfillment.

---

Battle with Shinzou. 6/7/21
Stats:
END: 71 (B)
STR: 65 (C)
DEX: 60 (B)
AGI: 70 (B)
INT: 5 (F)
WIL: 5 (F)
CHR: 20 (D)
SPT: 35 (D)
LCK: 5 (F)

---

Weapons:
Worn Spear-An implement she's trained with for the last two years, knowing it's every groove and how much strain it can take. Carries it with pride and cleans the head habitually even when not used. Can support her own weight vaulting with it even in Composite Armor.
Shatter Star Fragments: Remnants of a magic canceling sword.
Gear:
Composite Armor: An armor made predominantly of leather with added plate along one arm and shoulders for protection without comprimising her agility between and in combat.
Independent:
Spirit Boost- As an Earth Human, Lorelai has a wellspring of inner power waiting to be tapped into. 40% boost to Spirit when over 50. Currently: Inactive.

De Windt Bloodline: Her birthright as a member of the De Windt family cultured over the generations and the events they played part to.

Friend of Tengu: The Tengu feather that is on her will allow her to be identified as a friend of Mt. Kurama Tengu. Ordinarily Tengu are quite pervasive about people, often staying distant, or even hostile at times. As a result of her actions also, a certain Tengu has appeared as a student on campus... This also makes her elligible to learn further Tengu Arts.
Major Skills:
Farmer's Last Resort- The spear has long been the weapon of peasentry, with a low skill barrier to use but a ceiling as distant as the stars above. To call oneself a novice is to stand firm against charging adversaries and hold your spear true. Level: 2 (6pts)

Dieter's Fields-Moving beyond tactics of the peasentry is the true spirit of combat with a spear, understanding the advantage that comes with a greater reach then a sword and learning to use the full range of motion to aspire towards heights most would never consider. Level: 1 (5 pts)

Fujiwara Shinto Exorcism Manuscript Volume 1 - A manuscript detailing standard seals for Shinto style exorcism. It's multi-purpose too being mainly focused on protection and support if it isn't a spell that's for exorcism.2 Points.

Yagyu Shingan-Ryu (Yari Spear). 2 Points.

Major Skill Points Free: 6
Minor Skills:
Iron Flesh- Level: 1 (2 pts)
Indomitable- Level: 1 (2pts)
Follow Up- Level: 2 (4pts)
Dragon Rage- Level: 2 (4pts)
Second Wind- Level: 1 (2pts)
Signature Move: Ride the Wind- Level: 1 (2pts)

Forms:Farmer's Last Resort:
Form One - Forward March
Execution: Lunge forward, thrusting forward with both hands on the spear before returning to starting position.
Principle: The simplest way to attack. Power comes from the force of movement making even frail arms provide lethal force.

Form Two - Shield Wall
Execution: Hold an arm out and across your chest, bracing the spear atop it as though you were holding a shield. Thrust forward, sliding over the arm for a quick jab. Mastery requires using your 'shield' to redirect a misaligned thrust into a true strike as it passed over.
Principle: An aided strike that develops arm strength in thrusts without heavy dependence on personal skill. A foundation in controlling the spear without both hands upon it.

Form Three - Breaching The Wall
Execution: Grasping the spear with both hands and positioning it overhead, thrusting at an angle as though going over a barrier to reach it.
Principle: Trains the arms to support the spear without any aid and cements the users balance.
Dieter's Fields:
Form One - Quench the Thorns
Execution: Performing a standard thrust at such speed so as to look to have not moved. Done with a firm stance rooted to the ground for superior handling.
Principle: The basis for all spear fighting, connecting the stolid base of a Novice to the more fluid Journeyman. Teaches speed and coordination with the spear.

Form Two - Sow the Land
Execution: Perform a wide slash with the spear, shifting hands down a palm length before swinging back around, continueing till they've gone both ways along the shaft.
Principle: Understands a fuller range of motion and acclimates the hand to gripping the spear at any length with reasonable surety.

Form Three - Break the Frost
Execution: A heavy handed swing against a training target that bounces off, rotates fully around the user and transitions into a thrust.
Principle: Introduces power into the techniques and creates a flow between prior forms.

Form Four - Exalt the Harvest
Execution:Steps forward sharply, putting weight on the lead foot as the spear is raised from behind, overhead, and slammed down in a crescent arc.
Principle: An aggressive helm splitter that further develops power based on where the shaft is held to extend or shorten the arc.

Technique:
Ride the Wind: A stationary leap upwards from a crouch, grasping the spear firmly in both hands before driving it downwards tip first as you land upon and stab through an enemy. Lorelai throws the entirety of her being into the attack, sacrificing footing for the added power of crashing upon them.

[User]
Minazuki

Morning came, and still, Koyuki wasn't in the room.

Otis stretched his neck as he turned on the hotel's TV, feeling his spine crick and crack this way and that. It had been another long night; after the encounter with that incomprehensibly nimble assassin, the Strigidae had devoted himself to the theorycrafting of new bullets. A successor of the Fairy Bolts series, one that could home in without having a previous mark set up, or perhaps a gravity bullet that subjectively weighed down the one who's in its range. If he had his gun, the whole encounter would've changed for the better, that much was clear. So maybe this time...

His amber eyes centered on the lovingly crafted firearm, before Otis nodded. It was stuffed into his backpack immediately afterwards, folded up with a bunch of other metal objects. So long as he didn't go through an airport or something like that, it should be fine. After all, yesterday he had toured a bunch of places with razor-sharp wakizashis in his pack. Police were probably more interested in his passport than the contents of his pack. Probably.

Otis was willing to gamble on that ambiguous probability. More importantly, however, he had a teacher to catch.

Hitching up his backpack and making sure the straps of his belt pouch were done well, Otis refilled his water bag with tap water, jammed a couple slices of lemon into it to offset that plastic-y taste, and headed downstairs to find Kuuto. There was only one question that needed to be asked of the teacher, after all.

"Two days now, and no sign. Where is Koyuki, Kuuto?"

[Assistant]
Aurelius Pendragon

Aurelius stared sternly as the man began to make fun of him. It hurt his pride a bit to beaten by someone only wielding a stick. Those movements, they were something he had never seen before. Before he could open his mouth to rebuttal, the experienced swordsman began to explain why Aurelius had lost, his ear perked up to take in everything the man said; the words cut through him like the sword he was holding. Suddenly he became further interested as the man spoke about training. This could be his ticket to learning to hone his abilities and finally avenge his mother.

"I accept your offer of training." Aurelius spoke calmly as he stood, dusting himself off.

[User]
Ultana Whelen

As Morning came around, Ultana awoke from her slumber. Still half-asleep, she lazily began to stretch while resisting the urge to fall back asleep. Slowly gazing around the room, she could see that Asta wasn't there and was probably already up and about. Given the time, no surprise really. As Ultana got ready and was about to head out, overheard some commotion with the other students about how some of them didn't make it back to the hotel. Did they sneak out? We are in Kyoto after all, with this citys history of course you'd try to have some fun. .....Unless something happened to them. I wonder....if we were attacked yesterday....Though, if something did, the teachers would say something, yea?

After some thought, she decided to leave the matter to the teachers. Besides, there was something she was still curious about. Last night, there was that assassin that came after Seirin. As surprising as it was to find out who she was and her family, it was the style that assassin used that really caught her attention. Fujiwara Discreet Arts....didn't see nothing like that at the shrine. To find out more, Ultana would need to find a place where she might learn more about it. While she'd like to ask their exorcism teacher Kuuto, considering this was something he refused to talk about, she can't exactly go to him about it. Hmm...I wonder if a library would have what I need...

Heading downstairs, she could see Otis looking for their teacher Kuuto but it seemed like he hasn't returned to the hotel yet. But their other teacher, Utsumi Shichimori, was there. Maybe he'll know? Walking up to him, "Excuse me... Mr. Shichimori, would you happen to know of a library that would have something on Excorcism?"

[Assistant]
Time flows on, and Lorelai's ire had dulled to a determination to see herself pushed even harder to improve herself, lest she repeat the poor performance that saw her all but useless against the assailant. By all accounts they'd not see her or Seirin again, the heiress' importance crystal clear even to the oblivious blonde, but that was no excuse not to better herself. A grueling physical regime would normally be her chosen recourse, but seeing as they were in Kyoto, she had other resources to call upon.

With her knew spear still in the works, it seemed only appropriate to learn a new art to pair alongside it. Her own styles, while effective, were more...utilitarian, then measures of skill. They brought brute force to bare and let her exert the fullness of her strength, but they didn't leverage much beyond that. That had seen her learning the arts of a man long past, one whose teaching would normally demand a cooler head, but the Dutch-Japanese could be doggedly single minded in her pursuit of a physical achievement.

Inner peace? Not by a long shot. But putting her body and mind into a single action wasn't that far off from her usual single minded approach.

Hmm, why do I feel like Munemori-San is rolling in his grave... The blonde thought, the groans of ancestral spirits ringing ominously over head as she took a moment to quirk her head mid-kata, only to resume when the dojo's sensei cast her a recriminating look. Eh, can't be more important this.