[System]
Age: 16

Appearance: light freckles on her face, arms, and legs; honey-brown hair that reaches to her shoulders and is slightly wavy; light grey eyes; glasses; wears male clothes

Occupation: writer

Personality: Naia doesn't talk much. People who don't know her are likely to think she is rude because of this, but the truth is she is just socially awkward when talking to people. However, she does sometimes like to talk to animals, believing that they are smarter and more aware than most people think, even if some people think she's crazy for it. Other than that, Naia is usually pretty calm and polite in most situations. She prefers to think things through and observe the situation around her before making a decision, rather than rush into something. She is quite observant, sometimes noticing the small things that most people don't. Also, she is kind and hates to brag. Also, she needs glasses as she is nearsighted and can't see much without them save for a few inches in front of her.

History: She was born in a wealthy family, but was raised to be humble and caring to all, no matter who they were. Naia sometimes liked to help the cook prepare dinner, learning the basics of how to cook. As she got older, she preferred to focus on her studies rather than attend a fancy dinner or a ball. She also preferred to not wear dresses, claiming it was hard to sit at her desk and write or read while wearing a skirt. She didn't make many friends, the ones she had not being very close either. She usually stayed up late into the night studying, and her parents say she's nocturnal, writing by the light of a single candle.

She had just closed her eyes for a second, resting her head on her desk, frustration, or at least she thought it was the frustration, giving her a headache, the blank paper before her taunting her with the fact that she couldn't think of a good story. However, when she opened her eyes, she was not in her room.

[User]
The green lantern offered bright illumination to Lalna's path -- maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed brighter now that he was holding it. Everything around him sparkled emerald.

Just outside the tent flap, he was greeted by a vast starry sky swept by distant purple galaxies and clusters of pinprick stars. The moon was bright and waning over the edge of a great dark mountain that towered in a silhouetted landscape far below. Faintly, he could see a duality of light -- white and blue -- soaring over the treetops below, toward the towering mountain.

"SQUAAAK!"

A hooked beak and big yellow eyes lunged at Lalna; the gryphon's gray wings flared, and for a moment Lalna's vision was filled with feathers and claws. The beast hissed, squinting in the brightness of the lantern.

A meaty fist gripped Lalna's collar from behind and yanked him back, away from the gryphon.

"Looks like we've got a thief," a low voice rumbled with a slightly sadistic air. The big man had a goatee and a bloodstained smock, and he was smirking.

"That's him! He appeared out of thin air!" the girl squeaked from a few yards away; she kept her distance, her hands clasped at her throat. "Oh don't manhandle him! What if he's a Lord?"

The burly man turned his head and spat on the ground, then set Lalna with a suspicious glare. "What if he's a Kith?" he hissed with disgust.

The gryphon remained nearby, its feathers puffed and its eyes unblinkingly set on Lalna.

---

The little girl was motionless and silent for a long moment -- so much that it almost seemed she wouldn't react at all -- and then a smile slowly grew on her soiled face while her eyes remained unblinking, calculating. "You're hiding, too." She jerked her head at the window. "From the Pirate scum." She was quiet a moment longer to gauge Artemis' reaction to her thoughts on Pirates -- and what she saw must have been a point to Artemis' benefit, because the little girl sat down to finish eating her biscuit.

"You can stay here I guess," she said through a mouthful. "Why are you hiding? Are you a murderer?" She grinned at this thought, her eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of hiding out in the company of a killer.

A key rattled in a lock in the next room; immediately the little girl leaped to a corner beside the kitchen doorway, curling up as small as she could. She craned her thin neck to see the panel of dim light that played across the floor as the front door creaked open. A strong old sailor shuffled into the house in the next room, carrying an oil lamp. He left the door half-open, and the floorboards groaned as he made his way to the back of the house and started rummaging in drawers, never looking toward the kitchen.

The little girl pressed farther into her corner; she couldn't see the old man from her angle, but they could both hear him. She swallowed dryly, and her lips moved soundlessly: please don't come in here please don't come in here please don't come in here . . .

---

The Mountain loomed dark above her, while the Lake glistened bright far below and behind. Occasionally she might glimpse the gray mist of a spirit or the flash of fireflies or the blink of red eyes in the treetops.

Above and to her left was another gleam of light: a bright, steady green point of light atop the next cliff. It pulled gently at the two eggs that accompanied Anise through the cool night sky, beckoning.

The blue egg's power warned Anise of an approaching consciousness before she would hear the soft rush of feathers on the wind. A gryphon flapped closer, to glide alongside Anise at a distance to her left. Its rider didn't look at her, but had all her attention on controlling the beast.

A second gryphon came up from behind and soared along at Anise's right, its rider also focused entirely on his task; the gryphon-riders were flanking her, intimidating her as they decided what to do with her.

A third gryphon flapped after them, a distance behind. It seemed every sentry on the island had taken notice of the two bright lights flying over the forest.

[Assistant]
Holy shit this kid gave Artemis the creeps. But she played along like the good lying thief she was, letting the corner if her mouth twitch up like she was indulging the kid in some shared secret.

The sound of the door opening interrupted them though, and Artemis' blood froze. She ducked behind one of the huge iron tables (admittedly not her best hiding place) as the Kith hid beside the door frame. Artemis could barely breathe as heavy, plodding footsteps thudded across the creaking floorboards. A voice rumbled low and incoherent as the newcomer moved past the kitchen door. An old man, by the sound of it. Heavyset. She peered through the table's legs to see the girl frozen and scared, her mouth moving in a silent prayer.

What a mess of a situation. But Artemis had landed herself in worse before. And she hadn't had the advantage of runes at the time, she remembered in a spark of inspiration.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Artemis straitened her legs under her, just enough so she was in a low crouch, rather than a full squat. She took a step forward. She was silent. Her heart thundered in her chest as she took another step, then another. She heard the sound of a drawer opening as she crept her way around the table, to the old hearth. It was little more than a raised brick platform, a mess of blackened wood and charcoal piled atop, and an old metal pot hanging above it.

Long fingers curled around a charred remain, some piece of log that had fallen away after a fire had eaten through it. With it in hand, Artemis made her way to the doorframe, opposite the girl. She was on the hinged side of the door, and had to crane around it to catch a glimpse of the man – broad and graying, slow but no doubt strong. Probably wouldn't take well to uninvited guests. Luckily his attention seemed to be elsewhere at the moment.

She glanced back towards the front door. Still open. So he probably wasn't planning on staying long. Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd find whatever he needed and leave, none the wiser. Hopefully whatever he was after wasn't in the kitchen. That'd be just her luck.

Artemis pulled back, behind the safety of the door again. She curled her free hand around the doorknob to hold it in place, and brought the piece of charred wood to the old door.

She flinched at the sound her makeshift pen made as it scraped against the wood. But it was soft and muffled, she knew, too low for the man to hear (she hoped). After an eternity of seconds, a familiar rune was drawn on the door – silence. She pulled her hand from the doorknob and touched the charcoal image, careful not to smudge it. It took a moment, but soon enough it began to glow a soft white light. Artemis slowly pushed the door closed. She kept her eyes trained on the shrinking sliver of light on the ground until finally the door was closed.

She felt the latch click into place. But the house was silent save for the old man's muffled rummaging. Her heart dropped with relief, her adrenaline switching from fear to excitement. Her eyes found the Kith girl and Artemis raised a single finger to her smirking lips. She was about to move away from the door when she paused, another thought coming to her.

Lifting the wood again, she drew another rune, above the first one. This time there was no sound when she drew, she noticed with some satisfaction. When she was done, she brought her hand up and activated it as well. A spiraling rune glowed in her eyes.

Still.

Hopefully if the man did decide to come into the kitchen, her rune would slow him down and give her enough warning to escape.

With that done, she finally moved away from the door and began her work. It was easy enough to find a bag and empty it of… some… vegetables? Artemis had no idea. As quickly as she could while still keeping quiet, Artemis put dried meats, fruit, jars of who-knew-what in the bag. The room was so huge with so much to choose from, it was overwhelming. Where was she? Who needed to feed so many people? Some sort of school? Inn? Barracks? She didn't plan on sticking around to find out.

Artemis kept one eye on the Kith girl as she moved, sure to grab a small knife that fit easily in her hand. Her time was running out, she knew. Her bag was halfway full when she decided she had enough for the time being (she had other stops to make, still – other things to steal) and she moved back towards the window.

[User]
The feeling of flight was the most freeing sensation Anise could imagine. The air flowing through her hair and around her body. Everything about it felt calming and safe. She found herself smiling with pleasure despite everything that had just happened. She had realized in her time here that she needed to accept the small pleasures in this Forest, or it would consume her. If that happened then she would more likely destroy the Forest than save it. That simply was unacceptable.

As she flew along Anise became distracted by the sensation caused by the visibility of the green light she saw in the distance. She knew that light. She had seen it before. If she could acquire it, then she would be even safer and stronger if it came to a battle against the Lord of Shadow. She found herself drifting towards the light of the Green Lantern instinctively.

The sensation of the approaching griffons and their riders startled her more than seeing them with her own eyes. She imagined that they would be confused and concerned about the flying lights. Perhaps she could send some hope to the denizens of the Forest. She imagined word would likely spread quickly through the Forest.

She reached out to each of their minds and sent them a message. I am the new Lady of Light. My position has been recognized by the Lady of the Pond. I have come to return the sun to its proper place. Please, tell the others of this news and remember there is hope.

She focused on the sun rune she carved into herself remembering the warmth and brightness of the sun she had felt only days ago. Even if she could bring just a piece of that warmth into this world she could present a real case for hope. The Lord of Shadow's reign of terror would not last long.

She noticed that she was getting close to the Green Lantern, and her concentration on the rune broke as she prepared for a landing.

[Assistant]
As the man awoke, Naia scrunched her nose up slightly at the smell, though only for a second. She looked at the man as he spoke, listening intently to every word he said, already formulating a response.

"Oh, sorry, I was just looking at the lantern, I guess I forgot I was holding it," she said as she put the lantern on the ground next to her, "Actually, sir, I'm not, um, 'Palla'. I actually have no idea how I got in your tent, I just woke up here. I was hoping you could help me and, um, maybe tell me where I am?" All the talking she was having to do was making her nervous. She knew there was no way around it if she wanted to know what was going on, but that didn't make her any less uncomfortable, the nervousness evident on her face. The man seemed friendly enough, but that was most likely because he had thought she was somebody else.

Briefly wondering if perhaps the cause of his mix-up was poor eyesight, though not coming to a conclusion on that thought, she subconsciously adjusted the glasses adorning her face. Another thought flitted across her mind, that she should clean the lenses of her glasses when she had a free moment, and she hoped she would be able to find a cloth, but she quickly tucked that thought away for later. She needed to focus on the matter at hand.


[System]
Aliases: scarecrow, devil child, the cannibal.
Sex: Female
Age: Fifteen
Class: Scavenger

Brief Description
Height And Build: Small, hunched stature. Lean and wiry.
Skin Tone: Tanned and burned from sun overexposure, and eternally bruised. Marred with dirt that no cleaning could ever wash off.
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black

Equipment

Rags wears nothing but a very immodest yet warm pelt made from the hide of mountain goats and one mountain lion, which was her 'coming of age' kill. In terms of weapons, she has a stone dagger with a handle made smooth by repeated use, as well as a tapered-edged stone bludgeoning tool halfway between a club and an axe.

Though she will be given her own small sword to train with.

Combat Abilities

People may say that her teacher fights "like a feral cave-lion" as a compliment until they see Rags fight and realize that fighting like a wild, untrained animal might not be the best thing, because Rags' combat style is halfway between 'wolf' and 'bull ape wildly swinging a stick'. Though she is strong, savage, and if she actually manages to pin you, might do something very regrettable to anything within range of her teeth, even a desert-dweller with a basic grasp of swordplay can best her with ease in her current state. That said she is an intelligent girl and a very quick learner.

Backstory

In this cruel world, the strong took from the weak, and this often had bad outcomes for the weak. But those who didn't die fled to anywhere with less competition. Knowing that society, hierarchy and even too many humans in the same spot would cause history to repeat, the strong to rise up and the weak to be oppressed again, the People of the Mountains and Valleys stuck together in small groups no greater than six, and only one man was permitted per group. They hunted with their intelligence, and passed down the techniques of traps, snares, and primitive stone weapons to their offspring, but with less education, the intelligence diminished until the People of the Mountains died out from dehydration and the People of the Valleys were nothing but small tribes of hunter-gatherers, receded to cavemen, albeit cavemen with language, wells and technology, and the tales passed down on rules to survive, to repeat the sins of the past.

To the mountainous range to the West of the known world, food was growing scarce, and the People of the Western Valley developed cannibalistic tendencies, and fought with and ate their rival tribes of six or less. They had rediscovered war. And as such, learned that besides hunting, they needed to teach themselves how to fight fellow humans, developing their own unique and feral brand of combat. 'Rags' was born into this era, a girl trained to speak and hunt and fight and to not repeat the sins of the past, and that was all she knew.

But these skills didn't serve them well when her tribe ventured too far into the desert planes at the wrong time, and encountered a group of real fighters, with real combat training and real, metal weapons. The rest of Rags' tripe was wiped out but she was captured. They could use her. They could train her to fight in their style, and when she was old enough, this tanned, unusual girl would be coveted for her uniqueness, and men would fight over the right to marry her. Of course, she was too naive to realize what an honor it was to be chosen, to be taught by the woman who was to be her teacher...

[User]
Rags' life had become one of strangeness and learning, among the men who slaughtered her tribe. She had initially tried multiple times to enact revenge, before slowly coming to see this group as their new tribe. Though there were a lot of new rules to get her head around. For starters, she was the only woman in this group, which is the exact opposite of the Harem-like build of the tribes of the Valleys. They did seem to have something called 'marriage' to prevent mating from being a problem with this backwards, inefficient system. Rags didn't quite understand it yet.

They explained other things as they traveled, such as heir weapons, which were sharp and made of metal, as opposed to Rags' crude stone knife and club. They claimed they were taking her to be trained in combat, as only then would she have any worth as a person. She'd either die in this school, or come out the other side an exotic, deadly warrior worth marrying, as a status symbol. All of the men laid claim to her, and who would take her was to be decided if and when she stayed alive. There was something about how they talked about this which rubbed Rags up the wrong way, as if she would be property to them. Maybe it was just their strange, dialect. They spoke more words in a sentence in the deserts and caves than in the valleys. They thought her simple because of her dialect, but in truth she was a very intelligent girl. She thought them needlessly complicated because of their dialect, but you could not find a group of simpler men.

After weeks of travel, they arrived at the gates. Rags was marveling at this sight. This was not a cave, nor a cave made of cloth, called a 'tent'. This was a small valley, in the middle of the desert, with smooth, tall walls, and an entrance barred by metal beams like the swords the men she traveled with used. They were let in, and Rags found herself looking up at more strangely dressed men like the ones she was travelling with, not adorned with pelts but with cloth and metal shaped to their body. And one woman. The first woman she had seen since the death of her tribe. Shed never seen a woman so muscular, and her fearsome confidence was nothing like the anxious fight-or-flight state of a Valley Person before combat. This was a woman who believed she could win any fight, and didn't view them as encounters were anyone's life may be lost. Rags marveled at this unusual (in her experience) female.

[Assistant]
"I think she's trying to figure out if you're a man with tits, or a she bear," Devlin proffered to no one in particular at the sight of the girl eying the camp, its occupants, and especially the Doctora after the gate had been wedged open and the troop had entered the main courtyard, captive in tow. Devlin himself was smaller than Aibhilin, and was every bit the barbarian born he had been taken as by the Auxiliary. From the Whit'Mar freehold all the way across the Wastes and North of the accepted border established during the First Crusade, he had only wound up here through a series of poor decisions made as a young fortune seeker intending on returning to his warband a hero, slaves and wealth trailing in his wake. Instead he had taken a bolt to the right shoulder in his first engagement and wound up a slave in the fighting pits of the Southeast, before being offered up to the Empire to take the place of his owner's son in the mandatory tribal Auxiliary drives of the late seventies. None of that would matter to this girl, though. If she was an Imperial subject she wasn't from anywhere Aibhilin had ever heard of.

Once she had gotten through the gate and set her eyes upon the Doctora it was immediately apparent just how tan she really was. Not necessarily particularly dark skinned by birth, but tan. An oddity to be sure, someone the imperials would have wanted as a house slave more than a brutish pit fighter. Must have been from a nomadic tribe, born above ground in a place that wasn't as prone to the erratic weather she would be sure to get her fill of here. She had gotten lucky to have been taken by the group she had been for what it was worth, considering she no doubt only survived because of her youth and had almost certainly lost those closest to her in the engagement. It wasn't legal for the Auxiliary to take personal slaves as such, let alone to sell them for personal gain. They were in the employ of the Empire and couldn't profit from their duty until leaving the service, but that didn't mean the occasional especially high value person didn't fall through the cracks and wind up being exchanged for bronze shards behind closed doors. The troop were either too foolish to note her worth to the right buyer, or were more committed to the cause then the average by far.

None of that mattered now, not anymore. She'd been presented to a school, and from here the involvement of the Auxiliary as an official Imperial body would come to an end one way or the other. This barbarian girl was now a subject of the empire, and would either take the sacramenta and join the camp for which her employer would pay the Empire a finder's fee, or she would be given a day's provisions and pointed towards the nearest settlement, the one which provided Australos with its own provisions and food stuffs, to live out her life as a subsistence level forager. There was no way to keep her from simply returning back to where she had been taken by the troop in the first place of course, and no one would blink or try to stop her if she waited until the Auxiliary moved off and took the same route she'd been taken on to reach Australos back home. Knowing how the Auxiliary operate however, the chances that anything was left for her to go back home to were slim to none. In her experience most who went back turned around a day or two after getting home and realizing there was nothing left for them there volunteered at the camp.

Chances were she had probably never seen so many people in one place in her life as she was about to see flooding into the courtyard. Australos wasn't a large outfit, only twenty to thirty fighters at any given time and a handful of paid staffers, but they were far larger than any group who could manage to survive jumping from hand-dug well to tiny natural spring out in the desert. The larger cities could only exist because of a direct access to a natural aquifer, and even most of them gravitated at around six hundred people in total. Everyone was aware of the arrival at this point, and they'd all made their way to the courtyard to get a look at the new recruit for themselves. Most were not enthused. Too small, female, barbarian, whatever their individual complaint was it was plainly visible that she wasn't going to be quick in making friends of her potential fellow fighters. She shouldn't take it personally. Fight camps were tight knit units, and most would rather a small group who'd known one another for years then outsiders of unknown skill and intent joining the stable, but they didn't say anything out loud. They knew what came next, and would hold their tongue until it was passed.

Aibhilin neither smiled nor glowered toward the youth as she sized her up. She didn't much like looking at people like they were meat, had too much experience on the other end of the ordeal to appreciate being the one preforming the visual dance of half passionless stare down half cold hard napkin arithmetic. It was costly to train a fighter, and every one they took who didn't come out of their first engagement alive was a significant monetary loss to the camp. Aibhilin looked the girl in the eyes only after carefully examining her every other feature in a process that left her feeling like she needed to bathe. She had curiosity in those eyes of her's, and the glimmer of intelligence. Aibhilin herself was not known for her intellect, nor her appreciation of those who thought they could think their way around an axe to the head, but it was enough to come to her decision. "This is a camp. We fight other camps for food, hides, metal," she tapped at the long blade hanging from her sword belt to emphasize the possibly foreign term, "we protect our own. You can stay here and be a camp fighter like us, or go home. Your choice," the Auxililary wouldn't appreciate the, "or go home," bit, but outsiders hound them. The choice would be this girl's regardless of the troop's opinion on the matter.


[System]
Female
Age 24
Appearance
5'6"
Lean flexible athletic build
Light skin (Japanese)
Appears to have shoulder length jet black slightly spikey hair from the front. However her hair splits into parts, taking the longer half and tying it together at the neck into a downwards facing ponytail that reaches her middle back.
Medium sized ahoge, more of angular/rigid spike shape, changes based on their mood/emotions. And electrical charge in battle.
Dark drab blueish-gray/steel left eye.
Yellow right eye with a slit shaped pupil.
Eyebrow over her left eye has a slit break in it towards the outer middle.
Irezumi tattoos:
Right arm- Nagasode style sleeve tattoo extending down to her wrist. Nara black wind bars for a background, with a green snake with a red belly coiling down her arm with it's head ending at her outer wrist.
Left arm- Shichibu style sleeve tattoo extending down to her middle forearm. Nara black wind bars for a background, with a blue snake with a yellow belly coiling up her arm with it's head resting on the front of her upper shoulder. Kanji for Mamushi 蝮 (pit viper) tattooed in black on the inner blank space of her forearm.
Back- Her entire back is covered in large nara black ink clouds for a background. And a large tattoo of the giant 8 headed and tailed snake Yamata no Orochi, various flowers, and lightning bolts in the foreground.
Slightly elongated fang canine teeth on the top and bottom as compared to normal people. Teeth are overall sharper.
Ear piercings- Left: Two slim steel rings on their lobe. Helix cuff.
Right: Circular silver stud on their lobe. Smaller steel cuff at the middle of the outer ear/lower helix.
Black painted nails.

Customized slightly oversized black leather asymmetrical moto jacket. Worn unzipped with belt hanging loose.
Steel curb chain necklace that extends down to her chest. Medium sized silver upside down cross pendant.
Zip-up black hoodie. Worn under her jacket with the hood laid over the jackets collar. Worn unzipped often with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows.
Vintage oversized heavy metal band T-shirts, some with the sleeves cut off. Worn over fishnet shirt. (Metallica, Slayer, Iron Maiden, Led Zeppelin, Megadeth)
Long sleeve black fishnet shirt. Sleeve extends into a fishnet fingerless gloves on the left but is cut off at the wrist on the right.
Silver signet ring on right middle finger with an upside down cross engraved in it.
Mokume-gane Ouroboros shaped ring with pink jeweled eyes on left index finger.
Steel cuban link chain bracelet on right wrist.
Steel studded black leather belt.
Steel chain hanging down at her right side. One end attached to a belt loop, the other to a pocket watch manadial.
Worn/faded slim dark indigo Japanese selvage denim jeans. (Black or stonewash alt. colors)
Black with white accents Onitsuka Tiger Mexico 66 running shoes.
Black calf length open toe and heel socks.

Secondary hairstyle reference (Somewhere in between the two)

Close type of ponytail style reference

Raiya specializes in destructive magic. She is a master of electrical spells, and ruinous spells. She has a great foundation in most all Catholic magics as well as some Japanese Zen Buddhist/Shinto magic. As with her fascination of Japan, she also has a great fascination with snakes and has developed snake themed fighting style and magic. Every so often she sheds her skin, this makes her immune to aging. With her magic powers, she also has the ability to control certain light metals.

Raiya's parents, Japanese immigrants, owned a successful Japanese cuisine restaurant chain in New York City. Both parents died in a burglary gone wrong leaving Raiya orphaned in infancy. With a large mana constitution, Raiya was immediately adopted by the Catholic cathedral and put into mage training. Growing up in the New York Cathedral, she always shadowed Felix and thought of him as her older brother. Raiya was always proficient in magic, and her studies reflected that. Raiya achieved the rank Grand-Mage at the age of seventeen. At the age of twenty she was sent with two other grand-magi to investigate the sudden disappearance of a remote village in Italy. The village was razed, not so much as a 2x4 left standing upright. Investigating the trace of mana waves left by the spell she made her way to a nearby mountain where she found on a cliff-side the definite point of origin of the spell. Looking around the point of origin she found footprints. The foot prints looked exactly like the sole tread of a typical Catholic Magi officer. The level of destruction and the fact that the mana waves left by the spell accounted for only one spell, coupled with the footprint meant the evidence pointed toward an Arch-mage or higher to be the cause of the destruction. Once she returned to the Vatican, she provided the evidence in a council meeting. The council thanked her for the evidence provided but stated that they would be conducting the investigation from then on. Even though the council told her to no longer investigate this issue, Raiya continued the investigation on her own. Looking into the records of those who were gone the night of the destruction of the remote village, she narrowed it down to two, Arch-mage Thadeus and Arch-mage Felix. After obtaining this information, Raiya investigated both Thadues and Felix's living quarters. She discovered that Felix had never even worn his uniform boots, as he wore his own more comfortable combat boots. Thadeus, on the other hand, did not have any other pairs of footwear besides the ones on his feet, which were the uniform boots. Learning of this information but knowing the Vatican council would never listen to her, she approached Felix whom she knew was innocent. She told Felix all of the information she had obtained, but Felix brushed her aside saying that the Vatican was conducting their own investigation and to go against their demands to keep the investigation within their selected team would mean excommunication, even if the information was correct. Felix told her that he would not tell anyone about her own investigation, but pleaded with her to keep quiet about the issue until the Vatican completed their investigation. Raiya couldn't believe what she was hearing, that her cold hard evidence was being brushed aside because of protocol. But what's more, that the investigation team was comprised with Thadeus's brother as a member meant surely that Thadeus would never be convicted of this crime. All of this put into perspective Raiya's membership with the magi, and soon after she left the magi and Catholicism altogether. When she left two others left with her, the other two grand-magi that were on her initial investigation team with her. Soon after they left, they returned to NYC. Because the Vatican saw them as Apostates, they froze all their accounts and social security information, forcing them to make money through means less savory. Instead of falling into despair, Raiya and her two peers adopted the shady lifestyle altogether. Through their magic abilities, it wasn't long before they were running the biggest criminal organization in NYC. Raiya still resides to this day in NYC with the other two magi as her right hand women.

Raiya is seemingly devoid of any positive emotion. Her normal demeanor could be described as aloof. She is seen as a hard nosed, unwavering leader. This makes her well respected by her subordinates in the gang she runs. Though, to those who know her well enough she can be lighthearted. She has a short temper and a low tolerance for annoyances. In her annoyed state she has no problem threatening her friends with one of her sushi knives she keeps in her inner coat pocket, or electrocuting them with her magic. She loves Japan, even though she wasn't raised there herself. Her fanaticism for Japan runs so deep that she has Japanese tattoos, and has even taught herself the language perfectly. She is an excellent chef and specializes in Japanese cuisine. Even though she isn't very sociable, the few friends she does have are kept close to her and she protects them.

[User]
Raiya could not see what happened from the position she was laying, but she figured that Nemo destroyed the generator somehow due to the loudness of what sounded like an magic induced explosion. Nemo walked back over to her after he finished destroying the generator and began to pick Raiya up in a princess carry. She could feel the warmth from his arms and the closeness of his body, which suddenly made her extremely self conscious, which she personally found extremely odd. Why do I care what this guy thinks of me? He's a roadblock, an enemy. She decided to quickly drop her train of thought because she was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

She looked up to notice Nemo was blushing. The otherwise livid pale face was now fairly flushed, which made Raiya feel even more comfortable. "You better not be getting any weird ideas," Raiya said in an irritated voice, "You pervert." She added. She looked away towards the direction the were headed. I'm useless, She thought I wouldn't be in this position if I was competent. It's my fault that I am a burden on this mission She reminded herself.

[Assistant]
As predicted, Roy was forced to rush forward, bursting through gas produced by his grenade after it had detonated. Travis would have admitted that he hadn't expected such an approach from the ex-hunter but it made little difference in the end; Roy was initiating his attack. Still, with the amount of lead time he had planned and created, Travis was able to react fast enough this time the newest set of throwing knives. With only a second or two, he quickly raised his right hand and casted a repulsion spell just as the sharp point of the knife got within feet of him. A transparent sphere flashed out of his palm and rapidly expanded into the projectile's path, the knife itself was then knocked off course, spinning harmlessly until falling on to the deck.

It was then again that Zoey had responded from behind the scenes and delivered her own flurry of projectiles down towards Roy, finally stopping him in his tracks as he frantically attempted to defend himself. Travis watched in the instant as Roy took several hits from Zoey's attack, sending him to the ground. Though wounded with probably limited use of his limbs, Travis was nearly impressed as he observed Roy persisting to get back on his feet. However, it seemed apparent now that he was a assuming a rather desperate defensive posture, almost like a cornered beast baring its fangs, threating anything and anyone who came to close.

Travis materialized three additional runes before him. The center rune seeped heat and embers while the two that flanked it drooled the same dark clouds which loomed over them, faint instances of light pulsing within them. All three runes were aimed right at Roy and were on the slightest brink of firing if Travis even gave a mere thought about it - a sudden movement from his target could be enough to trigger the attack just as well. Though with the walls of ice keeping Roy in place, a discharge from any of his runes would never miss him.

Travis then called out to the ex-hunter, "Had enough?"

[User]
Roy brought himself to his knees, noticing Travis' runes. He let out a sigh, but it turned into a chuckle towards the end. "It's possible I have, what's it to ya lad?" Roy asked, not making any sudden movements. It's likely for a smuggler like him, putting his life on the line for his crew wasn't something he really wanted to do. But in the same regard if they kept him alive, Roy backstabbing them later with one of his knives was equally possible.

---

Nemo continued walking through the ship's interior. "Yeah I'm getting ideas alright, the first one is to drop you." Nemo retorted jokingly. Nemo seemed hesitant to continue, but eventually spoke again. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news and whatnot, but this mission has really only just kicked off. It's going to be pretty hard to fight off the rest of the heavy hitters on this ship if I'm just limited to... kicking. I don't think the Master Blaster technique we got going here is gonna work out." Nemo explained.

[Assistant]
Raiya frowned at the thought of being dropped. Weighing the pros and cons, she decided to refrain from saying anything further about his reddened face. But when he brought up the fact that he was restrained and gimped due to her mistake her slight frown tunred into a forlorn expression as she remembered how she made a blunder out of the last fight. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and take a nap, consciousness was too depressing for her to grasp at the moment. Every time she recalled her mistake she cringed within herself.

"I-it was all my fault... I messed up... I didn't account for the enchanted blade..." She said in a meek voice, "And... my mistake may have just cost us the mission..." There were almost tears behind her confession of guilt, but she didn't have the strength to cry anymore, so she just continued to frown.

[User]
"Hey, don't say that, I'm sure it's all gonna be daijoubu Raiya." Nemo replied with a more softer voice to try to comfort her. "You tried something new, having to work out all the kinks is to be expected. I've made my own share of mistakes in that regard as well. I remember the first time I tested out this new explosion spell out in the field it didn't go so well. Had a bit more power than I thought, wiped out the entire fifth floor of the apartment I was in. I got blown through a glass window myself, would have probably broke every bone in my body when I hit the floor if I didn't crash through a cloth awning first." Nemo remembered.

"D-do you think there would be any ways for you to recharge your mana? You're like an electrical mage right? Couldn't you like find a power outlet or something for that?" Nemo said, his tone left whether he was joking ambiguous.

[Assistant]
Raiya cringed a bit when Nemo used the Japanese word, "daijoubu" in an English sentence. It wasn't really that she had a problem with Nemo speaking Japanese when he clearly was not Japanese himself. It was merely the mixture of Japanese and English that got to her. She thought about saying something about it, but decided to just leave it at her physical fidgeting expression of discomfort.

Raiya raised an eyebrow at Nemo, she couldn't figure out if he was serious or not. Although, obviously as a mage well versed in the theory and practice of the mystical arts himself, Nemo knew full well that mages could not just simply recharge themselves by absorbing the element that is closest to their aura element. So she decided it was just a joke that Nemo was playing, so she just decided to retort with, "Beep Boop: Raiya 9000 must recharge her batteries in order to perform her operational duties Beep Boop."


[System]
Species : Elf
Gender : Female
Age : 54
Height : 175

Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original.

Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances.

So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card.

Traits and spells:

-Blood Phobia (passive)
Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated.
-Curse of the crimson flame (passive)
Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage.

-Arrow Enchantment.
Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors:
A. Crystal Arrows.
Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation.
B. Crystal Arrows
Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said.

-Counter
Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution.

-Ultravision
Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness.

-Vengeance
At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked:
C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown.

Equipment
-Lurea
A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds.
-Maugrim
A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade.
-Medium-sized satchel bag
A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind.
-Pocket watch
A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly.
-Medikit
Generic first aid kit.

[User]
Jazdia shrugged, then with her typical trained smile, she replied. "Distrustful? No... unless if you really have something to hide. But let's omit the tedium of scrutinizing the trustworthiness of all parties because we don't have all the time in the world right now, don't you agree?"

"This Guildmaster was responsible for the infiltration and the escape of the intruders. By providing an underground passage that leads to the catacomb, and to an extent, the memorial park where they almost had your Highness' neck. We believe there is more than just that, but that will depend on how good Fred's jailer is when it comes to extracting the information." There was a purple glint in Jazdia's blue eyes as she continued. "That is all I can afford to say."

[Assistant]
Kaito followed Jazdia and the others through the tunnels and corridors until they met their target. Some of the thugs tried to put up some resistance but those were quickly cleaned up. One familiar face even yielded before putting up a fight. The kitsune gave the coward a quick thumbs up as he passed him by.

The elf breached the final door with an explosive arrow and everyone stormed inside. Much to Kaito's surprise the guild master was quickly overpowered and taken into custody. Jazdia had slammed the man a few times into the wall and apart from a bit of verbal resistance, nothing happened. Was it really this easy?

The boss elf quickly barked her orders and directed the kitsune to check the documents on the floor. The fox piled them all up and started to scan through them one by one looking for any evidence that would tie the Black Serpent guild to the assasination attempt on the king. However he didn't get far before a somewhat expected guest broke his concentration with his rather unique entrance and demanding voice.

Kaito looked up from his pile of documents and stared rather annoyed at the golem. "Hey Iron man. I don't know who you are or what you want but please zip it till we're done with our work here and out savely. I prefer to spend as little time in Geralds murder dungeon as possible so keep it down until I've fininish going through his paperwork. Thank you."

The kitsune didn't wait for the golem's answer and simply hoped that he would shut his mouth till the point that they were safe. After that he could stir up as much trouble as he wanted but the fox didn't feel anything for spending unnecessary time in the Black Serpents guild headquarters.

Quickly Kaito continued with his quest to find anything that could like the guild with the assasination attempt. There were documents with all kinds of shady and illegal stuff in the pile but the first few contained nothing he was looking for. The first thing of note were procurement letters of various contraband items. All the names on the letters appeared to be alliasses and some of them were rather interesting. Another item of note was a receipt for a shipment of sulfur. One of the main ingredients for making smoke bombs.

The fox quickly put those aside and continued to scour through the pile of paperwork. Most of the documents were unrelated to the assasination incident. However after a while another item caught Kaito's attention. It was a detailed map of Rascade. Allone it would not be that noteworthy but underneath it was a second piece of semi-transparent paper that could be folded over the rascade map. Once that was done it provided an overlay of what appeared to be an underground tunnel system and its location relative to Rascade.

Continuing his search the Kitsune finally stumbled upon a ledger containing a vast number of financial transactions. There wasn't enough time to go through it in detail but it was interesting enough to add it to the documents he had filtered out. From what Kaito had found it was clear that the Black Serpent Guild had the items in stock that had been used during the assasination attempt and was aware of the existence of the complex tunnel system beneath Rascade.

Kaito quickly placed all the documents he found in a leather bag and walked up to the elf. "Jaz, based on the documents I found the Black Serpents Guild certainly had the items and intricate knowledge of the underground tunnel systems required for the assasination attempt. I think we got enough and should make our exit."


[System]
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Besalisk
Force Sensitive:No. Hopefully a little lucky sometimes.
Appearance:

Of a regular build for a Besalisk. Jax has the trademark scaley, darkbrown forehead, but instead of the normal beige skin underneath it, he grows a bushy stubble flowing over into a beard and the 'normal' walrus moustache. Though his size and eyebrows can be found intimidating or grumpy looking, he usually wears a friendly expression, smiling away or talking and laughing with a bouldering voice. A voice that has somewhat of an edge through years of cigar smoking. Unlike stereotypes demand his girth is no sign of physical neglection. The perceived 'Fatness' is mostly due to the species very cold home planet of Ojom, where a good insulating layer can mean the difference between life and death.
Jax Krell seems grown into a 4-holed wife-beater shirt that used to be white. It is set with a number of pockets over the front out of which rags, cigars and an array of other stuff might protrude. Under it he has a similarly pocketed blue set of working pants. Over it all he wears a long, brown leather trenchcoat for the covert storage of a few more items in its numerous inner pockets. Oddly enough the trenchcoat only has 2 sleeves through which Jax has his upper arms. Rendering the bottom arms either 'hidden' (though it gives him a bit of an odd shape), or the coat being pulled back behind the lower arms. The coat sleeves are neigh always rolled up to bare his forearms.

On his belt he has a set of heavy blasters, one for each hip.
Under his coat, at the backside of his belt he has two stun batons, nigh always hidden, but retrievable fast just like the short barreled scattergun he has at the back of his belt.

 Equipment:
-A set (2) of heavy blaster pistols with filed away trigger guard to accommodate his large fingers.
-A short barreled scattergun.
-Two stun batons.
-A datapad
-A comm-link
-Cigars, of the thick variant.
-A gazillion packages of matches in various states of fullness (or emptyness if you are a pessimist).
-A pocket knife.
-Chance Cubes
-A canteen of whatever strong liquor was at hand in the last port.
Your Quarters: A simple room with a wider bed in order to fit his body. Other than that it is just a messy place generally speaking.
Your Spaceship: Jax uses a Quadjumper Spacetug of the Swift Fortune to scavenge for goods.
Role on the ship: Mechanic and scavenger.
Obligation:
Without fail, Jax sends any spare credits to his mother on Naboo. Aside from that a Weequay named Aryl Dervol looking for him for Jax cutting him out of an arms deal.

Statistics:
Brawn: 3
Agility: 3
Intellect: 3
Cunning: 1
Willpower: 3
Presence: 2

Skills:
Astrogation: 1
Mechanics: 2
Piloting: 1
Resilience:1
Streetwise: 1
Brawl: 2
Melee: 1
Ranged light: 1

History:
Jax was born on the Outer-Rim planet of Dantooine where he grew up in a farmers family. A harsh life on broken soil, but the pride of his family nonetheless. When the Clone War came to his planet his family became refugees like so many other families. An experience that left the family scarred, for they were interned in one of the refugee camps on Ord Mantel, a place where the right of the strongest ruled. Jax, only 15 at the time had to make use of the muscles build during the long years of farming there to procure sustenance for his family and started getting involved in the trade of scarcer goods in the refugee camp, mainly as an enforcer. They made it through these days and the war on Dantooine ended a short month after the Senate had accepted laws distributing the refugees amongst more planets. Jax's family got a good deal on Naboo. Jax's father wanted to go back to Dantooine nonetheless and see what had become of the family heritage and rebuild if need be, but the refugee camp had made him age fast to Jax's eyes. He offered to take his father's place and urged him to enjoy the early pension Naboo could grant him.
Upon returning the Krell homestead was ruined, the ground littered with battle droids and artillery craters. In the process of cleaning up he was approached by a Weequay arms dealer named Aryl Dervol. Jax was in need of the credits so they cut a deal concerning the weapons he found and some of the re-sellable droid parts. He stowed the credits away to repair the farming equipment that had been damaged, but as the field got cleaned up it became clear that the land was unworkable. Haunted by the messages of anticipation coming from his father Jax couldn't help but pretend everything was ok, sending money back he earned from 'scavenging' as though it came from harvest sales.
To keep that sham up Jax started scavenging from larger parts of the planet than just the fields surrounding his own farm and quickly came into contact with others in the same profession. These weren't always the nicest encounters and Jax found the skills learned in the refugee camp to be a great asset. His co-operation with Dervol bloomed. Specifically when the Republic went over into the Galactic Empire there was an ever greater demand for weapons when a group called the 'Alliance' made their base on the desolate planet of Dantooine.
In the hopes of getting a better margin Jax tried to cut out Dervol and deal directly with the 'Rebels' (as the Empire branded them) which was a great deal less sinister than dealing with Dervol. Who was of course not happy when he found out. Threats were made and honoured and despite Jax telling everyone he lost his arm because it got stuck while scavenging, Dervol was the actual reason. The Rebels helped him out when he came there, broken and short a limb, even set him up with the replacement he still holds today (albeit slightly more modified now). They even offered Jax a small team to help scavenge weapons for the Rebels (if he lowered his rates that is) and Jax was content.
Unfortunately the Rebel base had to move at some point for safer destinations somewhere on a foresty planet with pretty ruins. Not long after Dantooine became barren for a good scavenger and Jax had second thought about living up to the lie of rebuilding the farm. He even gave it a try, but the farmers live was no longer for him. It just did not have the thrills Jax was looking for. He kept at it however, for the sake of his parents, and so for a long year he tilled the barren soil and repaired machines that had no function yet. That was the year his father died.
It was some solace he had died in peace on Naboo but things had changed, even there. The Empire had stopped the funding for the refugee programs and his mother was at the grace of charity when Jax's checks stopped coming in. In need of more credits than the desolate farm could provide Jax signed on to the Swift Fortune to scrape the credits together.

[User]
Dr. Khava Marr

@Korkoa

Dr. Marr closed his eyes, not looking at the other. His enthusiasm, and his overconfidence were clear signs that this was a bad idea. But he did not want to let this chance slip away. He wanted that research. He needed it. If he had that he could finish the first batch within... a few months. He smirked internally, suppressing the bristling ambition. It was dangerous to think like this. Especially with a venerable empath so close. His eyes flew open and he rolled his neck, the crack coming out louder than even he had anticipated.

"We might as well. This will most likely be worth more than any other piece of debris they might find out here. Make your preparations, and I shall make mine. Then, we take what we want." He sat back, and fiddled with his gloves, checking whether or not his medical supplies were in order - a few syringes filled with a powerful knockout agent, scalpels to disable major motor functions etc. When he was done with his prep, he recalled and cemented the layout of the ship in his mind. The other man might be a rather skilled shooter, but he would not be familiar with this ship. While the doctor was not used to combat, he was not going to be useless.

As the other spoke to the boy who manned the guns, and they neared the ship - Dr Marr thought over his designs. In his mind he saw a new breed... a group of super warriors. All the best aspects of all the best races, and none of the weaknesses. None of that bullshit race purity the Empire was concerned with. He struggled to suppress his smirk, as they moved towards the ship. An army of his own. The prospect of cutting his ties with these morons and making his own way. When he opened his eyes once more, they gleamed as he looked at the disabled ship. First thing first, though. "Are you ready?"

[Assistant]
Roka shuddered slightly at the growing heat of barely checked emotion coming from Marr. The doctor had some kind of plan brewing, something that felt as if it were scratching a dark itch inside of him. Roka began to reconsider storming the ship, but it was too late now for second thoughts... He opened the comms to Bast, informing the boy of their plan and going over the basics of how to work the turret as he warmed up the ion canon.

Run by a few times, breach their shields. Open comms, offer a surrender. Five shots. The ion canon had five shots in his charge. It could take anywhere from five to fifteen minutes to recharge the massive batteries that powered the canon, so five shots had to do. Two to the command station, knock out their comms. One to the turret, keep them from being a threat. one to the disabled engines, just in case. One spare, in case he needed to help punch through the shields or something unforseen should happen. Dock at the airlock. Go room by room. No Death Sticks, he needed to be able to sense the occupants. Keep a close eye on the doctor.

Roka nodded as he completed his mental checklist, opening comms to Bast again. "Alright kiddo, on my mark..." He said, pushing the ship forward and allowing himself a smile as he felt the engines thrum. "Open fire!" He called after a moment, whooping as the red lasers arced through space and scattered along the blue burst of the Imps shields. Those wouldn't last long. Roka opened a frequency to the ship now, offering them a chance. "Attention Imperial science vessel, this is Captain Zal'Ebos of The Steadfast. We're going to completely disable your vessel and then board it for your pretty tech. We can go through the rigamarole of us wearing you down and hunting you inside your ship, or you can surrender! We'll leave you alive and unharmed, able to limp back to your precious Empire. Whaddaya say?"


[System]
Alexander Zangief, but once he joins the the fists, he will be referred to as Ivar.

Age:18

Gender:Male

Rank(Disciple, Master, Bully, ECT):Bully

Martial Arts Style(Unless you're a disciple): He is a trained boxer.

Gang Affiliation(If any): Ragnarok, soon to become one of their most elite members.

Looks:

Height: 5'6"

Backstory: I'll work on this later, guys. <_< >_>....

All I know right now is that scaling up the ranks of Ragnarok, until he becomes the sole leader. He is obsessed with this goal, and will do anything to meet it. Perhaps he has a control problem. I don't know. I'll figure it out.

Crush(If any):

Personality:

Other:

[User] "Only a coward beats a man when he's already out!" Ally said, setting Shaz behind her and Kiro. She got into an aggressive stance and was going to counter any attack this man threw. She wasn't doing this for Shaz, she was doing this for Kiro. Kiro was in no condition to fight, any fight against Kiro or Shaz would be unfair. She figured all she would have to do would be a hard counter and the man might back off. When she heard Niijima's cries to Kiro she shook her head, "Don't think I forgot that you're the reason Kiro has to go against either of these men!" She clenched her fists and got ready to defend Kiro.

[Assistant]
"Suit yourself, you idiots!" Taro exclaimed, as he rose his bat up in the air. Simultaneously, all of his lackeys charged into action. He had no intentions of a fair fight for anyone, just as long as the job got done.

Too many came at once, as several people came swinging at Ally with bats and knives. "So, you think you're tough, huh!?" One yelled out as he attacked.

There were too many for Ally to stop at once, as a man swung his steel baton over Kiro's head.

Kiro quickly moved into a high block, as his forearm took all of the damage. He winced, taking a step back, as while he had prevented a very fatal injury, it was still something heavy to take no matter where you were hit. Kiro ignored the pain in his left arm, as the man came swinging back for another try. Kiro used the move Shin taught him, as he hit away the hand with his own before bringing the back of his loose palm straight up to the attacker's chin.

The thug flinched, as the swift hand came towards him, but smirked once he assumed he had narrowly dodged the attack. "Ha, you missed, kid!" He laughed, as he charged for another attack. He froze just before his baton could hit Kiro, as his legs started to wobble. "What the-!? What the heck did you do to me!?" He frantically demanded an answer, as he suddenly collapsed to the ground, his baton rolling off on the ground.

Kiro sighed in relief, as he whispered a silent thank you to his karate master, Shin. The ability to be able to take out an opponent with a single hand was a very useful, and sometimes crucial thing to learn.

"Forget them, guys! If we take out Shaz, then Zangief might let us take over his position!" One reasoned, as three people went in to attack the wounded man at once while his two allies were distracted.

Kiro quickly jumped in front of Shaz, as took all three attacks at once. He took a hard punch, and two bats at either side of his ribs. He grunted, as the pain of the bats were beyond measurable for Kiro. The man felt the taste of blood in mouth, as he started to lose his form. He quickly regained his position, as he stood strong to face the bullies. "I won't let you lay a finger on him while he's out!" He angrily exclaimed, sticking by his principles and morals.

"W-What's this dude made out of!?" One attacker stuttered.

"How can someone stand after being hit like that!? I didn't even hold back!" Another one questioned, as he took a step back.

"Look, his crazy karate girlfriend, too!" The third exclaimed, as he pointed over to the other fight going on.

Niijima chuckled. "That's right, you big oafs! These guys are stronger than you could ever imagine! This guy?" He pointed over to Kiro. "Jiu Jitsu, karate, he even knows some weird Chinese stuff you ain't even heard of!" Niijima bragged to villains, as he continued to laugh, as if they had already won the battle.

"He's bluffing, guys!" One of Kiro's three attackers assured the other two, as he raised his bat high in the air for another swing.

Kiro took him out in two swift punches this time, as the bully's swing was fairly slow in comparison to any of his masters' own fists. His breathing became rapid, as he turned to face the other two. Kiro suddenly collapsed to his knees, as he completely let down his guard. His body ached, as it pleaded for him to rest.

[User]
Ally's heart began to beat fast as the men charged forward, right at her. She got into a more defensive stance since there were too many. Two swung bats, so she swiftly dropped down and sweep kicked them, but before she could regain her stance, a baton came right for her head! She sprung away right into the blow of a bat, it smashing right into her ribs. It hurt, but she had been through worse.

Despite the blow, she got up into her stance again, but as soon as she was up, a knife sliced right across her arm. This shocked her, as she let out a small yelp and faced the attacker. He had an awkward grip on the knife, so she grabbed his hand and twisted it hard, even hearing a small pop! He let out a cry and dropped the knife right into her hand. She pushed the man down and tossed the knife across the room, away from the fight, only to be faced with another two men, one with a bat and one with a knife.

The batter swung level with her chest while the knifeman thrusted his weapon. The knife was faster than the bat, so she disarmed the knifeman. Once the wooden bat was close enough, she hopped up over it and slammed it to the ground using her body weight and gravity. The bat splintered and broke and the man was disarmed. She sent a swift tornado kick, something Shin taught her years ago, to the man's head. "What the-?!" he stammered before being knocked out. She didn't know if it was a "seventh sense" or something, but she instinctively slammed her elbow down behind her, hitting the disarmed knifeman in the back of the head.

Ally turned around to make sure Kiro was okay, but he was being ganged up on by two men and he was down. She didn't hear any of their previous comments as she was busy taking on her own attackers.

The batter held his bat up high, prepared to take the final blow on Kiro, but Ally rushed him from behind, wrapping her legs around his lower stomach and choking him while making him release his grip on the bat. He stumbled a bit as he tried to breath, but this move restricted breathing in the trachea and diaphragm. This was a ground move, a Jiu Jitsu move, not a standing move, so when his buddy slammed the dropped bat into her kidneys, her grip loosened and she dropped off the man. The first man was gasping, still purple in the face, but the second man was going for another strike. Ally stepped forward just when the bat was about to swing and slammed her elbow right into the man's nose. She quickly chopped him in the neck and he was down.

For the final, gasping man, Ally uppercut him in the face while he was bent over and he toppled down, still catching his breath and now trying to ease the bleeding.

Ally returned to Kiro, but gave him space. He needed whatever oxygen he could get and she wasn't going to crowd him. "That was awesome, Kiro," she told the man as he continued to recover. She was going to give him all the time in the world since he had been through so much in less than an hour. Heck, even she didn't go through many group fights like this.

Her mind went to Asuka. The woman taught her Jiu Jitsu all her life in hopes to keep her safe and yet somehow that was her disadvantage in this fight. Jiu Jitsu didn't work well in group fights, nor did it work well in standing fights unless you could perform a takedown. In this fight She called upon the teachings of the other masters. When performing the choke she knew well that she would be at the disadvantage, but what else could she do? The pain in her back was gone now and she had no regrets protecting Kiro.

Ally looked at the bats, batons, and knives scattered across the floor and shuddered. Any of these weapons could've spelled their last breath.

[Assistant]
"Clearly," Kiro's breath was rapid, as he stared across the floor as well, taking in the view of the various weapons and bodies. "Your definition of awesome must be a lot different than mine." He didn't laugh like he would normally; Kiro simply stared off in the distance. He felt lightheaded, and almost off in his own, far off world.

Niijima kicked Taro hard in the gut, as he laughed maniacally. "Next time, perhaps you will remember the true rulers of the school; Niijima and his two loyal underlings!" He continued to laugh, as he rested a single foot on the bully's face. He coughed awkwardly, as he casted a glance back at Ally and Kiro. He pulled his PDA out just enough so he could see half of the screen. "My, my, will you look at the time?" He commented calmly, as he shoved it back in his pocket. "My class is already halfway over; I didn't even hear the warning bell." He commented openly, as he stepped over the various bodies to make it to the door. "Well, see you kids around, I can't be tarnishing my reputation too badly by missing classes. Bravo on the fight, and all that, Kiro. The people loved you out there, the underdog." Niijima yawned boredly, as he exited the room. He really was a cold and heartless young teen.

(sorry for the horrible post. XDD)

[User]
"Next time you'll be the underdog!" Ally yelled after Niijima. "Come on, Kiro, let's get out of here."

~~~Mini Skip to the Dojo~~~

Ally helped Kiro as much as she could, but he was pretty stubborn. She pushed open the gates to the dojo and let Kiro come in. Asuka was the first one to see the two. "What happened to Kiro?" she rushed over.

"It was that guy Shaz, the Judo guy," Ally said, "Niijima tricked us into following him. It was a set up fight and Kiro fought Shaz. Kiro won, but this guy- Did his name start with a T?- his gang ambushed us. Kiro got the worse of it."

"That's terrible. Kiro, come on, I'm gonna get you cleaned up," Asuka said, waving for him to follow her. She wasn't sure if they were okay to train today or not. Then she considered what happened. "Wait, Kiro did you really beat Shaz? That's amazing! I knew Jiu Jitsu would pay off!" She picked up the boy in a tight hug, but then remembered his injuries. "Oh, sorry, sorry. I'm just so proud!" For a moment, the fear of Kiro being attacked by bigger and badder foes was erased from her mind.

[Assistant]
"You're fine, you're fine!" Kiro laughed, as he rubbed his right shoulder gently, the spot where Asuka had really agitated. "Really, I can't seem to thank you guys enough for all you've been doing for me." He awkwardly explained, as he continued to laugh.

"Really now, Asuka, you think it was those silly Jiu Jitsu moves that helped the kid out?" Bakusa laughed mockingly (it wasn't a very convincing one, really.), as he leaned against the doorframe. "Why don't you tell her, Kiro? It wasn't nothing but the Science of the Eight Limbs that helped you defeat that Judo-freak." He proceeded to demonstrate how Kiro had PROBABLY taken the bully out, showing a series of swift elbow and knee combinations.

Nervous, Kiro started to sweat profusely. "Well, you see-..." Kiro shifted his eyes to every corner of the room, as he desperately looked for a quick exit. Now not only did he feel the eyes of Asuka and Bakusa, but he knew the other masters were watching, and listening to every word he said! No matter what he said, he'd at least get beat up by one of the masters for not handling the fight as they showed him to handle it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Some unspecified time later, probably the next morning.)

Mr. Yamamura slammed both of his fists down on the table, as he looked his son in the eye, a stern, angry look on his face. "Why is it, ever since you started going to that stupid dojo, you've been coming home with nothing but bruises, bandages, and broken bones!?" Kiro's father screamed at him.

Kiro was seated at the other side of the dining room table, his book bag sitting on his lap, as gritted his teeth, avoiding his dad's eye contact. "I told you, it's just been a coincidence. I'm pretty clumsy, you know, I just fe-" Kiro started to laugh it off, but his dad cut his sentence off before he could manage to finish.

"Yesterday one of your teachers called and said you ditched school, missed half your classes! But I know you didn't come home, because your mother was here!" He gave a gesture to Mrs. Yamamura, who stood behind him, tears in her eyes. "So where did you go, son? You went to the dojo! You're nothing but a little liar! You're too young to understand, Kiro, those people are only using you for your money, and on top of that, they're abusing you for the giggles!" His father explained.

Kiro stood up from his seat, tossing the backpack over his shoulder (wincing slightly in pain, because his shoulder's bruised), as he stared at his father right back. "The dojo, my masters, they've done nothing but help me in ways you couldn't even imagine! You guys just don't understand!" Kiro expressed angrily, as he scooted his chair back slightly, so he could get out from the table area. "I better get going, I'll see you guys later." Kiro muttered, as he left out the door.

"Kiro, wait! Help us understand, then!" His father called out for him, but it was too late, he was already gone. He hugged his wife tightly.

(I'll continue this later, yo.)


[System]
Age: 26

Class: Cavalier

Weapons: Iron Halberd (lance) and Iron hand-and-a-half sword

Fighting Style: As a mounted soldier, Jakobe tends to use his mobility to great advantage, making sure to maximize his effective coverage of the battlefield. He tends to keep his allies close enough so that he can help keep the heat off of them, as he is on the sturdier side of the 'squishiness' spectrum. He's not above employing a dirty trick or two in order to win a fight, as he hopes to keep his team together above all else, despite the fact that he's not even their leader.

Personality: Jakobe is a kind person to his friends, and often tries to be merciful in a fight wherever feasible. When the going gets rough, he gets serious. At the same time, you can find him laughing, joking and enjoying a few pints of ale after the fighting's over. Being an actual soldier, Jakobe's not too perturbed by fighting and blood, but he also doesn't find pleasure in killing, and sees it as an unfortunate necessity in war.

History: Born and raised in Bravura, Jakobe was the first son of a butcher and a tailor. He always loved talking to the town guards as a kid, and dreamed of finding glory and honor. He trained with the guards now and again with fake weapons, and was informally adopted by the barracks as member of their little family. Any time he didn't spend helping out his parents, he was at the barracks.

Being an actual soldier, he's also familiar with the troubles of war, but he's been able to avoid the fighting for most of the recent war, having been deployed to the coast and primarily acting as a supplementary city guard for the past two years. The first year of the war, however, was spent on the front, in the thick of the fighting. The only reason he was able to get away was a rather short influx of attacks on the shores, but the attacks dwindled after a regiment of soldiers were relocated.

Rationale: Jakobe has joined the Reclaimers to get back into the fighting, hoping to see how everything's changed in the two years he's been gone. He hopes to find out what's going on and bring peace, if possible.

Appearance:

Jakobe is rather tall, standing at 6'2" on his own, and weighs about 200 pounds. He's fairly muscular, but not overly so. His black hair is always kept short, as befits a soldier, and he shaves his facial hair daily. His horse is chestnut brown, and as a war horse, it's quite obviously muscular as well.

[User]
Nickolas Rienbach - Basilmeron Castle Courtyard

"I have the same issue with light and healing magic." He grimaced exaggeratedly, glancing around and spotting the curious wyvern in tandem with his young companion's skittish jump behind him. Nickolas stared at the offending beast thoughtfully before glancing down at the cowering girl. His expression changed back the reassuring grin. "Don't worry, little miss. I'm sure that he's a big softy on the inside, he won't bother you." He winked. "I'll be sure to tell him off if he does." The dark mage stood up at the last call for storage, careful to keep himself between the young girl and the wyvern. He gasped in mock suprise at her stammered question.

"Oh, yes, I nearly forgot! The convoy!" He dusted himself off, glancing around at the collection of people stacking their things inside the covered wagon. "I brought all my research materials down with me, placed them in the corner over there. Don't want anyone to trip on them, would we?" A tall sheaf of papers stood unsteadily in the aforementioned corner, coupled with both tomes that Nickolas could claim ownership of. Beside them, a lumpy pack lay lopsidedly against the tall stone wall of the courtyard, giving off the same musty scent as the one that was near permanently ingrained into the dark mage. Nickolas gestured to them and sheepishly grinned. "Big pile, I know. I might need some help with all of the papers." His pale eyes twinkled. "And I have tome over there that reminds me a lot of you, little miss. Perhaps you'd like to see it?"

He kept his cloak as wide as possible to keep the girl covered from the draconian beast as he wandered over to collect his luggage, leaving the Dying Blaze tome in the area for the nervous mage to grab.

Kuur Salcair - Basilmeron Castle Courtyard

Kuur didn't make another comment to the pirate before he left off, but her eyebrows unknitted halfway through his speech about nationality and remained uncrossed even as he left. She turned back to Lilith as the latter mentioned Panoply's decency in its non-burning state. "Agreed." She pulled out the bow and examined it for imperfections(Which she knew there were none) and prepared to hand it off as the Captain gave his last call for putting stuff in the convoy. The tall woman nodded slowly, still fingering the inlay of her weapon as Lilith walked off. "See you...later."

She had surprisingly little to pack onto the convoy save for extra arrows and blanket dyed in rather rare and expensive colors, along with a small pack containing the barest essentials and tiny trinkets from her home. Once certain that all of her belongings were either on the convoy or on her person, Kuur nodded, seemingly satisfied. She headed off toward the front of the convoy, stretching in preparation of walking alongside the wagon when they set off.

[Assistant]
Jeanne Robina

---

Jeanne nodded at Marcus, as the priest turned and left.

Jeanne noted that they were beginning to load the convoy. She shrugged. Heck, she could take things out of caravans just fine, she could probably pack 'em in just as well. Scratching her chin, she made her way towards the convoy and noticed some small gaps in which certain other materials may fit. "Hey, if you sheath this," Jeanne said, placing a sword on the ground into its scabbard, "then it'd probably fit into this little narrow space..." Jeanne picked up the sheathed blade and slid it into the slot between two pieces of armor. "I guess you kinda--have to--wriggle it around a bit," she added, finally getting the blade securely in between the armors.

Jeanne stepped back. "As for myself, I can probably carry my own stuff. If I can travel through the treetops with this sword on me," she declared, patting her blade, "then I'm not afraid of a little hike. Or a big one, either.

To each their own, I suppose; understandable, as Jeanne was in good physical condition (no use for a thief that can't move in limber, fluid motion).

---

Habeen Nocta

---

Habeen certainly did not want to lug around three or four textbooks for two hours. Though she did have a bag for the books, the tomes were nevertheless quite heavy and somewhat uncomfortable. Though Habeen did like to keep her folk magic tome on her in case she ever needed it. Habeen tied her remaining texts together as Jeanne the thief shoved someone's sword in between two armors.

Habeen eyed the convoy, pursing her lips as she looked for a place to tuck her texts.

"Looking for a place to put those books, my nomadic friend?" asked the thief. "I can probably help you out."

"A thief asking to hold my belongings?" Habeen asked, her smile unwavering.

"Quite often a terrible idea," Jeanne replied. "Not so in this case. Don't worry. I'll let you watch where I put it; you'll have your textbook troubles taken care of, instead of your textbooks taken."

Habeen couldn't help but let out a little laugh. Her expression didn't change; she was always cheerful. "If you say so, Miss Robina," Habeen said, handing the bound times to the thief. "And I believe this is the part where you declare me a 'sucker' and pawn my texts for profit?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Jeanne declared, fitting the textbooks into just the right spot in the convoy. "Contrary to popular belief, there do exist moral thieves. I'm no petty pillager, nor a brash, brazen brigand. I'm a highwaywoman with a heart. Though I cannot imagine that these fellows are likely to quickly trust someone who falls under the category of 'thief.'"

[User]
Gaius Secondus
 Gaius returned, with a big, bulging bag and his arms full of papers, tomes, and writing utensils. He proceeded to pack away each thing in the convoy so they wouldn't roll around. He also put his one of his spare swords in the convoy, but he kept a tome on him too.  Going around unarmed is just foolish. He thought to himself. He checked to make sure he had everything. He did. He got out of the way of the others coming in to store their stuff and waited. Time to head out! He thought cheerfully.

[Assistant]
Kel

Kel perked right up as Hugh apprached him. He wasn't expecting the guy who was giving him orders to all of a sudden pick him out of the crowd. And Hugh wasn't the only one. He heard a voice coming from the direction that Druug kept staring at earlier. Something about those two mages just came to Druug's liking, maybe it was just the one who smelled so... strangely sweet. Druug DID enjoy fruit a lot, maybe he thought that man was food. That'd be something Kel was blamed for. He couldn't hear what the two were saying but he caught the word wyvern tossed around. He payed no mind, however, as Hugh was now talking to him. He caught the tail-end of his sentence "...into battle as a Great Knight. What is it like to ride a wyvern, friend"

"I-i-i-i-it's uh, well, it's incredible sir yes incredible." He spoke as if his mouth was tripping down a flight of stairs. "He uh, he's pretty good at tricks too, you could ride him if you wanted, but uh, I don't know if you'd know what you were doing... He might be the one driving and he's not so kind with the whole 'slowing down before making sharp turns' concept. And uh, well if you fall off we miiiight be needing a new captain." He chuckled, patting Druug on the neck. He kept staring back and forth between those mages from before and Hugh.

Everyone around them seem to be loading the caravan. Kel brought some things of his own, a few changes of clothes, a warhammer, a few rabbit carcasses (he made a mental note to find an archer as soon as he could to keep Druug happe), and a box full of letters from his sister. Before he left from camp he had informed the postal service that they should foreward it best they could out to the expedition. He didn't carry much because he didn't need much. His biggest item he brought, however, was a bunch of blankets and pillows. He didn't know if he was to bring his own tent so that was lacking, but at least he had someway to sleep if all else failed. He stopped looking to the caravan after a few seconds and returned his gaze to Hugh.

[User]
Franky Lonnas – Basilmeron Castle: Convoy

By the time Franky figured out which of the immaculately dressed men was the leader of this military excursion team, he was amongst the building group of people crowding a convoy near the stables. He wasn't just concerned by the appearance of a convoy, but by the itinerary others were nonchalantly loading into it.

"I can't help but ruse that the presence of a convoy be-a sure tell sign of a journey long in tooth," remarked Franky to Hugh as he approached him. "I have no problems risking me-life what-for-ending this war, I just figured I'd-be risking it... sometime today," he added, playfully sarcastic. "I'm a pretty big man all things being equal, and this-ere war has the brass expecting me to be somewhere. Somewhere else to be exact. And I'm not sure just how long that expectation will be enough for them not to check. It be the reason I brought nothing more than the clothes on me-back. I figured whether in death or victory, I wouldn't be in this long enough to change."

As he paused to give Hugh time to respond, Franky's glance moved to the Wyvern being played with by its rider. He had seen Wyverns before, and even men on top of them no less, but it was a first to see a pair that weren't trying to kill him. Although it was one of the many hazards the sea could throw at him on any given wave, it was a chance encounter that didn't seem likely to happen here on land.

[Assistant]
Jakobe Russenfalt- Basilmeron Castle Courtyard

Chuckling as he shook the wyvern rider's offered hand, Jakobe gave Druug a good look. He wasn't particularly worried about the massive creature eating his horse, and each of the pair gave off that impression. "Jakobe, Cavalier. First time I ever saw a wyvern rider I damn near shat myself. And I'd say the same about riding those things. I feel quite comfortable on the ground, thank you. Even if I do get knocked off...it's a short fall." As Hugh approached, Jakobe gave a silent nod and looked at the convoy preparing itself. In reality, the group was rather small, especially considering their goal to investigate the war and the allegations of a shadowy third faction.

As long as they managed to avoid the bulk of any armies coming their way, however, he was confident they'd not face much serious trouble. For Kel and Jakobe, that was an easy task, but the others would have quite the time trying to evade their enemies. Hugh mentioning the possibility of him taking up a mount as well made Jakobe hum in satisfaction. "It's quite the feat, to fight from atop a companion. I've no experience with wyverns, but as our friend here says, it looks to be quite the experience. I'll have to make sure to do it sometime, even if it's not in combat." Nodding to the two, he got back on top of Thunderclap and made his way towards the rest of the Reclaimers, again giving the group a look over, before riding over to the convoy and coming to a stop.

As he had all of his necessary belongings on himself or Thunderclap, the pair was already prepared for the go-ahead. Rubbing his steed's neck, Jakobe took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. This was it.


[System]
Arata
Night Parade of One Thousand

---

Age: Not really certain.
Gender: Male
Race: Oni
Sexuality: Straight
Year: No Year Yet
Abilities:
Stronger Than You
The 'general' of one thousand oni, Arata possesses nigh-limitless physical strength, enough that his physical form would be incapable of holding all that power without exploding into a bunch of gorey bits. At maximum strength, Arata is capable of casually swinging around a car like how others would wield a sword, and he bench presses fully loaded buses for training. However, even that relatively mediocre amount of physical strength is enough to splatter opponents from time to time. Thus, the Night Parade is also under a self-inflicted curse. Against those that are weaker than them, their strength will be limited to only slightly stronger than their opponents, ensuring that they will never completely overwhelm even the weakest of foes. The amount of physical strength Arata is allowed to wield takes into consideration magical power as well, and, when fighting against a group of enemies, takes the strongest of the group as the 'limitor'.

Legendary Resistance
With sheer Determination, Arata overcomes all barriers that stand in his way, an avatar of destruction that can only be stopped by destruction. All magical spells, outside of purely destructive ones, can be shrugged off and resisted with his Determination. Attempts to exorcise his army have been laughed at. Attempts to teleport him have been shrugged off. Attempts to deceive him have been ignored. Against his advance, only destruction can dissuade him.

Gigalomania
With immense Willpower, Arata can force reality to make concessions for himself, pulling off physical feats that would be practically impossible without magical aid. While he is generally incapable of meeting the requirements for this ability, when it does happen, he is quite literally causing a miracle to happen just by willing it. This miracle more often than not manifests itself in the form of allowing him to exceed his safety limits without exploding.

Strengths: His power allows him to always have a good fight regardless of how strong or weak his opponent is, while his ability to flat-out no-sell magical effects and warp reality allows him the utility to face down those who are otherwise more versatile than himself.
Weaknesses: His power allows him to always have a good fight regardless of how strong or weak his opponent is, while his ability to flat-out no-sell magical effects and warp reality rely largely on his state of mind. Emotions are much more volatile than a trained ability like magic, after all.

Catalyst: N/A
Inventory: N/A
Master: N/A
Squad Name: N/A

Pesonality:
Arata is, like most oni, someone who loves to fight. The blood that flows in his veins is fiery, and he's a dramatically opinionated person, someone who finds it hard not to get passionate about everything. If he likes someone, he loves them to pieces, always watching their back and wanting to spar with them. If he dislikes someone, he despises them, always looking to pick a fight and beat their heads in. All things considered, Arata doesn't have much of a middle ground when it comes to interpersonal relationships. He lives vivaciously and violently, and would love nothing more than to drown in the flames of a proper, honorable war.

Indeed, Arata is not someone who seeks victory in battle. He values fairness and honesty, seeking to win through skill and spirit, not simply because he drastically overpowers his opponents. Within the battlefield, he does not hold grudges, does not care for revenge, and desires only for his fist to crunch against his foe's face. It is not within combat that he decides that he hates someone. It is only afterwards that he comes to a conclusion of whether or not they are his best buddy or his archnemesis.

Despite having some ridiculously good instincts when it comes to fighting, Arata, due to his heritage and his personality, isn't really a smart person, academically. He likes simple, clean solutions, and can't wrap his head around more complex subjects such as physics or psychology.

He also hates video games, because why would you play at fighting, when you can just fight in real life? God damned nerds.

Backstory:
Arata was once a normal oni, rampaging on the landscapes of Japan alongside his bond-brothers, slaying samurai, causing mayhem, and even challenging the Gods themselves. Back then, they were all audacious and violent, a Night Parade of One Thousand that just wanted to have a good time.

Unfortunately, the shrine maidens and the priests didn't appreciate the festivities.

Under the guise of friendship, humans offered sake to the one thousand, lacing it with a drug powerful enough to down enough the greatest amongst them. Then, while the Night Parade slept, they crafted a seal powerful enough to restrain all the oni into a single body. Riotous as they were, the leaderless oni struggled for control of a single, shared body, and spent the next couple centuries flopping around like a pig with one thousand heads, incapable working together long enough to break the prison they were contained in.

Only after much struggle did Arata subdue his brothers with promises of glory and grandeur, and only when he became the undisputed leader of the Night Parade of One Thousand did he break out of the jar they were sealed in. The world, by then, had changed drastically. No longer were there wars to rampage in. No longer were there skilled heroes to challenge.

In the several centuries that had passed since the Night Parade was sealed, Arata learned that magic, the gift of the gods, had become mainstream. No longer was pure physical power appreciated, nor pure martial skill.

It saddened him.

He strode through familiar landscapes changed by the passing of time. He found graves eroded by countless storms. He sought the things that he missed.

And when the descendants of the exorcists that once sealed them came to restrain him, Arata did not have an appetite for crushing their skulls between his hands. He allowed them to attempt their exorcising spells, allowed them to attempt to re-seal him. And when he tired of their effort, he left.

Eleventh months later, a representative of Liseranna Academy found him on top of Mount Everest, and invited him to come, to find himself new allies to fight alongside and new rivals to fight against.

In a world that was so bereft with meaningless peace, what could an oni do but accept?

[User]
Juliann

In her usual fashion, Juliann cut the illusion away in the blink of an eye.

The only thing that could be heard was the sound of her sword being sheathed again. Cupido. Another teacher around here.

"I need not your promotion, thank you very much." Juliann sighed and then turned a harsh glare to Cupido. "If you keep your mouth shut, then I will not mind your staying here."

Juliann then relaxed her posture again and remained attentive of whoever might come her way, asking for her services. In... the not perverted way of course. She'd probably slice anyone in half who dared suggest something like that.

"Okay... forgive my outburst. I just tend to get carried away when I believe someone is making fun of me, which you were clearly doing. As long as you can keep your stupid comments to yourself, I am sure I can put up with you for a while."

She was already feeling ashamed enough without this guy making fun of her and her, err, 'training'.

---

[Assistant]
Zeppeli
Cupido's illusion gets slices through and his small amount of focus on it dissaptes with it. He blinks at her then blinks again before his hand goes to his chest. "darling of that is what you thought, that was not my intention" he he shakes his head and turns standing next to her his hands clasping behind him, causing his wings to re fold. He gets the small feeling that the ones assigned to the riddle likely are not participating....irritating, but waiting for a few couldn't hurt.

His eyes look over at her as he stands there. "I do apologize darling" he hardly ever apologizes...usually only when the apology is necessary. With this one the apology seems so...his eyes go back to facing forward as he waits. He didn't really recognize the names. This either means they aren't taking either of his classes or he simply didn't notice them well enough for the names to be remembered. He gets slightly antsy causing his hands to go to his aides again, causing his one tattoo to be visible.

He was called stupid....or at least his comments and that alone caused him to stay quiet. An oddity for him. Is this what it felt like to be put in one's place? How odd....this whole situation was odd. He decided to remain silent...just in case.