[System]
Profession: Science Officer
Appearance:

Personality: Strict, cold, stern, perfectionist. But beneath that layer, she is insecure as well, and she is scared of failure. She does have a little bit of anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem. But despite all of that, she does care enough to make sure that no one gets hurt or dies on her watch. She will watch over someone and, sometimes, scold them if she thinks someone is being careless. Of course, this tends to translate into an abrasive personality and cause people to distance themselves from her.

Background:

"Do better! More every day! Don't be lazy!"

 Born as the daughter to the most esteemed physicist, her father, and botanist, her mother, she grew in a competitive setting. She was the youngest child with two older siblings. Her family seemed to value academic pursuits, and while Beatrice did her best in school, she often found herself dreaming and wondering what else could be out there. This didn't set well with her father. Whenever he found her not studying or bettering herself in any way, he often gave her those three lines and repeated them over and over.

Beatrice did set out to do as her father had stated, however...it turned out that her older siblings were much more successful than she is. Her older brother and sister graduated from the most acclaimed and well renowned universities, while the university she entered was good, but not as renowned. Her sister created the cure for cancer, and her brother was able to prove an important theory (such as String Theory) and provide enough evidence to make the theory valid. Beatrice? She got a degree in Exploratory sciences, and have yet to do anything groundbreaking, as her father loves to point out every chance they meet with each other.

Due to the fact that she was pressured to focus more on her studies and extracurricular activities that her father approved, that meant she had little to no time for any socializing or...living for that matter. She has little to no social skills and she more often than not, inadvertently pushes people away from her. So she has no friends, and practically no experience with romance.

So why did she decide to take on her current occupation? Well, she still held onto her dreams of finding what lied beyond the known parts of the universe, and she hoped that one of her discoveries will be 'groundbreaking' enough for her family and for herself. The thought of death out there has come to her mind, but quite frankly, she'd be okay with dying out there. Or at least, that's what she tells herself.

She has asked to work alone, but the request was denied, and she was paired with a pilot considering she has no skills in piloting space craft.

[User]
Beatrice stared at him when he mentioned delays, and she answered his comment, "Provided we follow protocol perfectly, we should have no delays," She watched him as he looked around and took in the supplies that she ordered. She noted that he nodded approvingly, as well as he should. Her calculations were correct, and she took everything into account. Or at least she thinks she did...

Before the anxiety could creep in, she turned her attention back to the Ensign. She had noted his physical qualities were attractive, and now that she could see his body language, she could see that he was lackadaisical and was not serious in general. How in the world did someone like him become referred to as the best once?

Beatrice listened as he asked his questions, and her eyes became half-lidded at his last question regarding a significant other. She answered him, "No. I do not have time for such tomfoolery," She then continued as she brought up a holographic star map from her watch and as she started pre-planning a course, she continued answering his question, "I am from London. My father is Dr. Marche Briarwood, and my mother is Dr. Melissa Briarwood. Dr. Tessa Briarwood is my older sister, and Dr. Anthony Briarwood is my older brother,"

It was impossible for anybody to not know those names, as they were big names in the science world and made significant contributions to society.

[Assistant]
"Tomfoolery," Morgan chuckled at that.

The woman was ice. Pure ice. Looking at her, he would have been hard pressed in that single instant to see if there was any difference between woman and machine. Everything was spoken with a cold detachment, like a block of ice. Or a machine. Maybe she was one of them? One of those lifelike synths that were created to give one the impression of being human, when they were not.

But no, he recognised the names that she spoke. Giving s low wolfwhistle, he jumped back to his feet.

"Impressive, Science Officer Beatrice Briarwood. You are descended from greatness. You must be so proud of yourself. No wonder command thinks highly of you. I consider myself honoured to be in your presence."

Heading over to the metallic door that was at the far side of the room, Morgan presses the round button. It opened, sliding upwards, revealing a small circular chamber beyond.

"We should get this show on the road, your greatness."

Going into the round cockpit, there were two seats positioned next to each other. In front of one of the seats was a large console. On the console was a monitor that showed an image of a large green grid. Periodically on the grid, green and red lights blinked on and off in a strange, almost disconcerting pattern.

Next to the other seat was a second console. This one had what seemed to be a series of levers and large buttons. It was this seat that Morgan sat himself down. Reaching up to his top right, he pulled down the seatbelt, strapping himself into the chair as he placed his right hand on one of the levers.

Outside the window in front of the cockpit was a view of the ships hangar. On the ground level people scurried back and forth, going about their business, either going in or out of the other aircraft in the bay, or otherwise seeing to the repairs of said aircraft. One figure stood in front of the Falcon. He had a red anda green flag in his hands as he held his hand up, gesturing to Morgan to bring the ship forwards slowly.

"Buckle yourself in partner," he said, looking back to Beatrice as he reached up to the large red button just over his head.

"Its going to be a bumpy ride, so don't get too comfortable," he chuckled as he placed his finger on the ignition.

[User]
Beatrice's gaze seemed to have become much more detached, lifeless, and robotic after he commented on who her family was. Her mind lingered on the words "You must be so proud of yourself," The words would not just leave her alone, and with those words came memories. Memories that drove her to do better, and to do more, even if it meant not sleeping for days.

In response to his words, she answered coldly, mechanically, and simply, "Why? I've accomplished nothing,"

When he suggested that they get started, she nodded in agreement, before she coldly stated, "Don't call me that," She then stepped forwards into the cockpit and took her seat, already getting to work with the grid right in front of her. She quickly buckled her seat when she had the chance.

After he spoke, and she noticed that his finger was on the ignition, Beatrice stopped preparing the map, and she leaned back against the back rest of the seat, and gripped the arms. She answered seriously, "Ready, Ensign,"

[Assistant]
As his finger hovered over the ignition, Morgan looked back to her. His eyebrow raised slightly at her comment.

"Science Officer Briarwood..." he began as he pressed the button.

Behind them the jets came to life with a loud roar as the Falcon started to inch forwards slowly.

"You're about to be the first of the human race to set foot on a planet in the Epsilon System."

The officer waved them forwards. Twisting the flight stick, Morgan maneuvered the ship to the left. In the distance, the hangar bay doors began to open.

"Your siblings and your parents, for all their achievements haven't done what you're about to do. Congratulations Miss Briarwood," he turned his head to her with a small smile. "...you're about to join the list of people that have accomplished something."

Grinning, Morgan pressed the throttle forward softly, moving the pod forwards. Beyond, the open expanse of space beckoned. A veritable carpet of black punctuated by white glittering stars. The officer outside nodded his head and moved out of the way. On the metal walkway, standing at its head, Major Carver looked over. He held his hand up, signalling to the two of them.

Three days. Don't be late

Heading towards the end of the hangar, the pod gradually increased pace. The exit came closer, leading to the cavernous, never ending abyss of space beyond.....

Then it was free, and the Falcon was heading out into the great unknown. On either side the blackness of the universe could be seen. There were other aircraft, both heading towards and away from the Galacticus on their own individual missions.

A waystation was hovering near the Galacticus, flashing red and green lights to mark the position of the ship. Several patrol ships circled the perimeter, keeping an eye out for any threats.

Turning his head back to Beatrice, Morgan grinned again.

"Are you ready to make your mark on the universe officer?"

He pressed the button to engage warp speed.

[User]
Beatrice looked to Morgan when he spoke once more. As the jets roared to life, he pointed out that they were about to be the first of the human race to set foot on a planet in the Epsilon System.

...Was he...trying to say otherwise in regards to her earlier statement?

...While it was true that her siblings and parents haven't done anything like this, there was still a part in Beatrice's mind that stated that getting there was one thing, and actually doing something is another.

But she didn't voice that out loud.

Instead, she took in the vast expanses of space as the pod left the Galacticus. It was always a beautiful and somewhat terrifying sight.

When she felt his eyes once her once more, she looked back to him. In response to his question, she nodded and she answered as she prepared the map once more, "Let's do this,"

[Assistant]
Pressing the button, the world around them became a blur. The stars shot by them as they tore their own way through the multiverse. And as they did so, little did they realise that they were heading towards destiny.

The planet they were heading towards had only been seen in passing by the Galacticus's sensors. Noone had been to it, and as far as Morgan knew, they were about to be the first of humanity to set foot on it.

He should have been excited.....but he was not. All he felt inside of him was a barren, nothingness, and it was the nothingness that had consumed him slowly from within. The drink was a balm.....when he was drunk, it numbed the grief that he felt inside of him. But what it could not take away was her face. Her face, her eyes as she looked at him.....looked at him as she fell, begging him to help. That, inasmuch as he tried.....he was too late. It ate away at him, his dreams.....nightmares. The same one every single night, and each night he watched the same terrible vision. He was too slow. He was always too slow.

There was nothing he could do that night.....or was there? Was it his own failure that Vanna was dead? Her corpse nothing but empty vacuum now as it had been shot out into space, the way that she wanted.

Those women.....the women that he took to his bed. They all wore her face. They all had her eyes. And they all looked at him in that same accusing way.

You couldn't save me. You were too slow, and I am dead because of it.

Morgan should have been excited, yet like all things, like his bravado and his manner, it was an empty fake thing. Deep down, he hoped, as he hoped every time, that this mission would be his last.

And every time, every single morning he was disappointed. And every single day, the ghosts continued to follow him. They....she watched him.....and she waited for him to die.

All the sounds becoming distant,
Breathing easy,
As I melt in to the ground,
There is calmness on the water,
Moving slowly,
No darkness hiding here,
A strange kind of comfort,
Maybe this time it's good for me,
Took a while to get there,
So many days of falling apart,

There was a strange kind of comfort.....here in oblivion.

The red flash shook Morgan from his reverie. Eyes blinking in alarm, Morgan glanced over to the console, to the red blinking light warning of an object that had come into close proximity to them.....

"Wha.....an asteroid.....how did it get past your charts.....?"

He moved his hand to the flight stick, trying to twist the pod of its way, out of the collision path that it was on...... But he was too late.

Too late once again Morgan. You're always too late. You couldn't save me, and you couldn't save yourself or your partner.....

The asteroid smashed into the side of the pod. The impact caused an explosion from behind. Morgan's head jerks forwards, slamming straight into the console. All of a sudden as pain ripped through him, his vision turns red as blood pours from where his head had split open...... Gasping, as white lights suddenly flashed across his eyes, mixed with the blood that dripped over the sparking console, he reaches out, punching buttons into the damaged console desperately.

The pod was spinning, round and round and round and round and round and........

"Beatrice......we have to land......nearest planet......NOW!"

His vision suddenly blacked for the briefest of seconds as he closed his hand on the stick again, trying to pull the Falcon back under control as it went spinning out of control.....

And as he did, he looked up to see her face, looking back at him once more.


[System]
Age: 27
Appearance: Daelin is a man with weathered features, always with five o'clock shadow and baggy eyes. His eye color is a light gray and he has dirty blond hair. He has a scar from the corner of his forehead leading into his messy hair. He is lithe and muscular.
Personality: Daelin jokes about almost everything whether it's funny or not. It may be that he's trying to seek some kind of humor in a job where he's used to losing companions to the beasts.
Height: 6'1"
Race: Human
Home Nation: Arcadia, born and raised.
Magical Capabilities: Arcane.
 Daelin uses only minor tricks and has never dabbled in advanced magic. Telekinesis is his most prominent go to trick, used primarily in combat for retrieving weapons or tricking enemies. He has never been able to lift very much and his mana capacity is fairly low.

History: Daelin Calso, pathfinder and forward scout. At least that's what he is now. Used to be that he started as a woodsman's boy, chopping down wood with his father in the forest on the edges of Arcadia. A dangerous profession with the abhorrent dangers around. Hiring guards was a must but it also made gathering wood from outside lucrative. Of course that was until his father's luck ran out. A great big ol' beasty got a taste of daddy o's leg and the man never walked again. Daelin was forced to become the man of the house and what better way than to enlist in the military. Describing his past work experiences and ability to track animals made him an obvious pick as part of a scout party. He's been an Arcadian knight for eight years and despite being a respectable, hard working soldier shows little ambition for rising in the ranks.

Name: Rem Vano
Age: 56
Appearance: Rem has long red hair, parted away from his face and tucked behind his ears. He has a big, pointed nose and a slightly wrinkled forehead. His eyes are green and he has a short, bright beard.
The garb stories witness him in is a mantle made out of the bark from a tree that makes his shoulders look far broader than they actually are and a cloak of patched furs drapes around.
Personality: Blunt but wise, Rem is a talkative individual. He seems to speak to everything, adding an air of mysetery and madness to him.
Height: 5'9"
Race: Human
Home: A hidden cottage in the wilds.
Magical Capabilities: Gaian
 Moving the landscape, commanding the plants and speaking to beasts is part of Rem's staple magic.

History: Rem Vano is a relatively young druid as far as druids go. He's been in the wilds for little over a decade now. He associates often with travelers, appearing as a kindly stranger to those that respect the forest.
The time he spent before that was in exploration of magic and debating its practices and uses. From Arcadia to Marrenfell, to Kell he researched and pondered on the nature of things. Everything he found had a limit. People treated magic less as a respectable force of nature and more as something to be manipulated, abused and used against one another to get gain. Orders of priests and their healing magics seemed the most attractive but they had their own problems serving entities with ulterior motives, especially Berganfont. That drew Rem to the ancient rites of the druids, to the order that still existed even if it were reclusive.

Name: Kanna Astorian
Age: 89
Appearance: Kanna is a lovely depiction of eldin charm. She has bright green eyes and long black hair. Her slender features are always accentuated by an extravagant dress.
Personality: Kanna is most often bold and provacative. Her mood and personality seem to change just as easily as if she were to change a mask. Her ability to act and grandstand are exceptional. Underneath all the lies and the act she is incredibly insecure with an agenda always on her mind.
Height: 5'9"
Race: Eldin
Home: Kell
Magical Capabilities: Psychic
 Kanna is secretly one of the foremost experts in psychic magic. Her very presence can alter a person's mood if she applies the right pressure of power. Few of her tricks can be used to actually hurt someone, rather augmenting states of mind or making them see things that aren't there. Given enough time and effort she is able to brainwash people, even making them think they are other people themselves.

History: Kanna was born to a highly esteemed family of the eld. The Astorians were known for their moral uprightniess and they did their best to provide everything necessary for her, hoping she would make for a good healer or some other beneficial role to society. Their hopes did somewhat come to fruition. She learned from some of the greatest tutors money could afford. Politics, theater, magic, business. She was well-educated and had a great mind for trade and business but she saw issue with the morals of her family. Where they saw profit in doing good she saw loss. She anticipated events no one else had. There was an obsessive, almost psychotic need to know things, to explore between the lines in her mind. She never had chances to leave Kell, it was dangerous outside when you had few means to actually defend yourself. Death was not in her plans so she played idly by, gathering resources and contacts, learning more and hatching plans for her masterstroke. What exactly is her masterstroke? Her goal? To unite all nations under one banner, whether it was hers or a puppet nation it didn't matter. Unity was needed for the foreseeable future and any evil needed to get there was worth it. After all, what was evil other than a disagreeable act to the ignorant? Living in walls wasn't survival. A world where giant walls no longer needed to be built was a paradise to look for and could be achieved in no other way than through absolute unity.

Name: Vetch
Age: 36
Appearance: Vetch is likely one of the ugliest of the eld alive. He is bald and pale with abnormally large ears. His blood shot, red eyes bulge out of his head. On top of that his jaw is crooked to the side and it looks like at one point his nose was broken and healed improperly. He favors longcoats with hoods to keep his head and face covered. An old injury forces him to hobble with one foot but it doesn't slow him down as much as you'd expect.
Personality: Disturbingly calm and absolutely obedient to his master, Kanna. Vetch would do the extreme for her. He seems to always be dire and grave in his speech and mannerisms.
Height: 6'3"
Race: Eldin
Home: Kell
Magical Capabilities: Water Elementalist
 Vetch is a capable elementalist using water and ice, two sides of one facet. Many of his techniques mirror bladed weaponry. Mist is one his favored spells, allowing him to slip in and out of locales while people think it's simply a natural part of nature.

History: At a young age Vetch was adopted from an orphanage along with several other children to a noble family known as the Astorians. Of course no one actually knew the Astorians were involved in the adoption. The children just seemed to disappear. No one ever missed them. Vetch was infatuated with Kanna, the leader of the noble house. She was kind and benevolent to him as none other. While she spent personal time with many of them she never had to use her power to affect his mind. He was willing to be her tool, to learn from her, to be tutored and molded. The other children weren't as willing, but they came around eventually whether they wanted to or not. Vetch became a trusted right hand servant to Kanna, performing tasks that would normally put her at risk. He is in generally kept secret from the public and acts as a subtle agent.

[User] Shane smiled at Peter as he walked away, and looked over at Lilith. He chuckled a little. "Sorry, I thought it might bother ya so early in the morning." He said, standing up from his chair. He made sure to place it back in it's original position at the table, and walked over to Lilith. He sat down on a stool at the bar. "Nice morning, huh? Ain't a single cloud in the sky." He mused. Lilith was certainly dedicated to keep everything clean, that was for sure. But he didn't mind. The atmosphere was still a lot better here than it was at the square.

[Assistant]
Ayer Lecomte
-- 9:37pm
- Mentions@Mataus

Though the battle ended rather quickly, Ayer still felt jitters of adrenaline. He tried to keep his breathing stable as they skulked across the port.

Upon being notified of the opening the patrol, he nodded and scurried after his friend, keeping a concerned look out as the cross the main walk towards the edges of the harbor by the ocean water where the boats were tethered. They were closing in to the first stage of their escape now. Ayer was familiar with how the arcane engines and rotors worked on most vessels, and judging by how they looked from afar, there wasn't any concern for any sort of odd technology he hasn't come across before.

"Smaller... Okay... umm, let's see."

He agreed with this sentiment. His eyes caught sight of the fleet's pride, a large cruiser compared to the rest. It can be safe to assume that their largest ship was also their fastest, and so stealing any of the lesser vessels will only lead to a chase they cannot hope to win. They would need to rely on slipping past without alerting. That would be the best bet.

As Ayer looked across their selection, keeping his head low as he practically crawled, he noticed a slight bobbing in the water and ducked his head over the side to see a rather small dingy in between the other vessels. Base don how unassuming it looked, and how it's sleek size probably meant it didn't have a motor of any sort, he was unsure if they would be able to pilot it properly. He also doubted if they would be able to reach the other shore in time before the Nillium patrols would discover the aftermath of what happened back in the alleyway leading to the harbor with the captain Mop. If that happened, stealth would not be a correct trade for speed. Thus, they would need a blend of both for this plan to succeed. Luckily...

Ayer pointed down to it, tapping the Eldi on the shoulder, "There... a small dingy in the water. It doesn't look like it has an engine for a rotor, but it's probably our best chance of slipping out unnoticed. However, it's pretty far down. And the thing is, while I don't mind swimming, water doesn't fare well for my Ars. My crafts won't break, per se, but getting water in some of the auxiliary units causes some complications with the mechanisms that'll increase risk. I might not be able to use Wax Jury right away if we fail the jump."

He looked for a scaffold or a set of protruding nails, where they can climb easier. "And for my plan to work, that cannot be the case..."

...

[User]
Baeshri Pass - Caravan Centaurus

Ellorei allowed for the one called Daelin to stand beside her. This was going to be interesting, to say the least, so far she learned that soldiers were not as battle hungry as her parents had told her. It was at her great relief to her that it was the case. "Ell works," the druid smiled, "I can tell you that the chances of finding your friend should be good, alive or not I can't promise. Rem, shall we meet back here?" Ellorei called over her shoulder before she turned to look at Daelin Flin, "What direction did the blast send debris. That should be a good place to start."

[Assistant]
Paric

 Feeling the tap, Paric looked to where Ayer was pointing at a dingy in the water. It was perfect. It was exactly what they would need for a inconspicuous escape to a nearby shore. He waited till Ayer finished his comment, "good find, friend." The bit about not getting Wax Jury wet was a little concerning, especially given that Ayer was planning to use it in stride with moving dingy. After all, it was a difficult climb into a moving boat and they would need faster propulsion than oars, if there even were any at the bottom of the craft.

 Paric had not been on a boat for a long, long time. In fact, he barely remembered why he was last on a boat. His best guess was a ferry that moved him across a body of water. He did know about the creatures that made the water their home... and about how many unfortunate souls found themselves in a watery grave. They would not want to be in the dingy long, less they find themselves being attacked. With any luck, those were just drunk stories. Told by sailors who wanted to spook their friends.

 "Let me go first. I have the messed up arm. I don't want to fall during the climb and knock you into the water." He said, making his way to the nails that provided a haphazard ladder to the dingy. He felt strong enough to make the climb, his weight was in his favor, at least. "Here goes nothing," he muttered with an outburst of breath. He lowered himself over and began the climb.

[User]
The Rise of Kul

Smor'Gen'Blok

He torqued his foot free with a twist and a pull. Za'Kul made his exit; he hoped the Wor who had gone to save Wor'Da'Li would make it out. If not, he would be sure to honor them and the rest of their bretheren who had fallen there. With the Wor that remained, Za'Kul joined up with them.

"We go to Kul tunnels. All be safe there."

[Assistant]
Baeshri Pass - Caravan Centaurus

 Daelin went as prompted, leaving the caravan and joining the others outside. He took a spot near the front of the group. "We're going to need to search down there." Daelin pointed down away into the ditch below and hilly terrain weaving below the pass. "The explosion wasn't directly from beneath the caravan. It was a miracle the whole thing didn't topple over and fly off the path to begin with." He reasoned. The explosion was set up closer to the rocky face opposite the trench below. If Marilyn was thrown it would have sent her careening down below somewhere in the hills and crags. If she were still alive she would be in critical condition. Daelin started to move to the edge of the path, pausing briefly to look back at Ell and the rest of the group. "Sooner we get her and get back, the sooner we can get to safety." Daelin explained. He personally didn't want to die but had enough moral fortitude to not want to leave without their comrade either.

 The wind was gentle in the pass despite such paths generally having a wind tunnel effect. Rem stood resolute outside the caravan's cabin door. The door still remained open as the people moved and took to their roles. Rem took in the sight by scanning his head around. He drew in a deep breath to settle himself and turned half-way to speak to the cabin's inhabitants. "You will all survive this night." He promised before turning back and maintaining a vigil. It might seem safer to the others inside but Rem was used to being in the open. The caress of the wind always settled his nerves.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 30

Appearance:

Anton stands about 182cm tall, or as the dreaded British would call it, "about 6 feet and an inch", making him an easy person to spot in crowds or fields alike. His frame isn't as bulky as he'd like, making him look a bit thin and lanky. He sprouts a moustache, finenly trimmed while the rest of his face is shaved. His hair, light brown in colour, is kept shortly cut, always slicked back in the approriate fashion.

Personality: Anton is outwardly behaving like a man of honour; outmost and unshakeable honour. Both from his childhood upbringing and the tradiation of the French military, Anton does his outmost to respect the conduct of honourable acts and gestures, towards friend and foe. Even if said honourable acts include taking decisions that'll hurt those he care for, because of unwritten rules and expected norms. It bears on him, this pull between doing what's honourable, right, and best.

It doesn't mean that he's heartless. Oh no, certainly not! What would any proper Frenchmen be without his passion? His love or anger? His joy and sorrow? Oh no, Anton his not free of petty emotions, especially not around those -and sometimes what - he truly loves and cares for. Friends, wine, traitors and the German invaders, name it all! As a soldier he obeys honour and follows orders. As a man, and a friend, he follows his feelings. An odd mix, though he's but a man.

Background history: Anton was born and raised on the farm his family owned on the French countryside, a short walk outside of the city of Saint-Quentin, north-eastern France. His father worked the fields around their home for his whole life, sparing little time for Anton and his siblings except for their time working in the fields and teaching Anton how to repair the family tractor. His mother, working time on and off in the city itself as a maid, was the beacon of love, friendship, patriotism and learning for him. It was she who persuaded Anton's father to allow him to attend the catholic school, thankfully giving him a decent education.

This was of course AFTER the Great War had ended. At the age of 2, the whole G'iscard family fled their home as the German armies of Kaiser Wilhelm lounged through Belgium and towards their home; the whole of Northern France was filled with refugees fleeing the onslaught. They did not return until 1918 when the war was over, but the farm didn't become what it used to be until much longer. The fields were unsuitable for farming; craters, steel fragments of bombs, undetonated mines, and the rotting corpses. It when at that point Anton, now 6 years old, knew he loathed the Germans for their cruely. He would never allow such acts of barbarism to befall his family again, even if he didn't know what he would become. After all, he was simply 6 years old, and not many at that age knew what the world war truly like.

At first he wanted to become like his father, taking over the farm and growing the land around their home like his ancestors had done long before. He wasn't the eldest son, however. That honour had befallen his older brother, Filipe, so he ventured into the world he knew he had certain skills in; mechanical engineering. Of course there were difference between a simple tractor's motor and the very intricate engine of a Dewoitine D.500 V12-Engine, though for Anton he miraculously always seemed to get a hold of it.

One of the places where engineers and mechanics were needed, was the French Air Force. The re-militarization of the Rhineland and warmongering rhetoric coming from Berlin convinced Paris that mobilizing the French military was not just the best answer; it was the only way to evade the same fate befallen on the country in 1914. Anton was given a job as an aircraft-mechanic, maintaining and repairing the planes of pilots he came to idolize and envy. He even made friends amongst the pilots, who let him join their flights at occation and even going as far as letting him fly a little himself - of course never alone, a mere mechanic was never expected to handle a plane like that.

It came as a surprise to everyone, even Anton himself, that he soon proved himself a competent pilot. Not truly knowing how himself, he was recommended for pilot-training. He passed with good marks, joining the ranks of those proud men willing and ready to defend France from the skies! And it would soon prove vital, as news quickly reached the whole world that Poland had been invaded.

Two days later, France was at war.

The skirmishes Anton partook in during those first months of the war were tense, but not particularly noteworthy. He managed to score a few kills in his beloved M.S.406 fighter plane, named "Marie", barely escaping death himself by a razor's edge unexplainably. It came even closer to his demise during his last flight in 1940. Flying to intercept an expected German bomber-attack, the squadron was surprised by the sudden appearance of a thunderstorm coming straight towards them. Anton was the last plane to turn away from the incoming storm, but in doing so was hit by a stray lightning.

But he didn't die. The plane kept flying by some miracle, even if the insides of the plane were almost glowing hot and all sorts of alarms going; even Anton himself felt as if he was being torn to pieces by the lightning, but he was still alive. And the plane kept flying. The new orders from their superiors were to change course south and land in French Algerie. When they landed, news came through that France had surrendered; they were to drop their weapons - the little weaponry that pilots carried on them - and be interned for the moment. What was Anton supposed to do? Refuse?

And so Anton was locked up for half a year in an Algerian internment camp, awaiting his fate at the hands of the Vichy-French authorities. When those 6 months had passed, he was offered to rejoin the French Airforce and serve the Vichy-government in protecting the French coloninal empire. He agreed.

It didn't take long, however, for him to "get lost during mission" and land on a British airbase. His pleas for fighting against the Nazis fell on deaf ears, however, as he was seen as a possible spy, and promptly sent to a POW-camp in Canada.

Now it was 1942. The world is still tearing itself apart. The German war-machine is steamrolling the Soviet Union, while the British Empire battles the fascists in Northern Africa and the American giant awakens from its slumber. And Anton is offered his freedom and the possiblities to fight for France's freedom. But he's not offered to fly with the Free French Air Force. Oh no, other parts of the Allied war-effort wants Anton for themselves.

Superpower and how the character got it: Anton has the remarkable powers of controlling energy; more specific one could talk of electricity and static inside and around him. His main usage of these powers are him seemingly shooting bolts of lighting out of his very palms, ranging from small fizzingly tickles to electrocuting those unfortunate to be hit. Though a less violet use of his powers, one that he enjoys much more, is his potential in manipulating machinery and electronics. He is, for example, able to start and controll - to a certain extent - a vehicle without being near it. Sometimes even enhancing the machine's potential in power and speed, though he prefers doing this with aircrafts.

As to where and when he discovered this, long story short; he had always felt a connection to modern machinery, electricty and the like, enjoying the small sparks one gets touching a lamp or a metal bar. Without knowing why, he was indeed the very person one'd ask to see what was wrong with the tractor's engine back home, to which he easily fixed. The full extent of his powers, however, he didn't learn of until being hit by lighning during an interception-mission in 1940. Instead of dying a horrible death in a fried-up airplane several kilometers above ground, Anton felt himself able to regain control of his fighter plane and land safely. As he himself explained, it felt like he was in control of the whole aircraft, even when it was in no condition to continue flying.

[User]
Belasý favored Anton with a mildly approving glance. She'd indicated the problems, yes, but also proposed a solution. It was important to know what might pose a problem, so one could make contingency plans. It was to be expected that Command would overlook things. They always did.

Maria was more abraisive about her concerns, but the woman seemed best suited to spy work, and Bel could tell she didn't take well to idiots. Good for her. And then John asked if anyone spoke Russian. Her expression tightened, but she tilted her head ever-so-slightly when Izkry looked her way.

"Belasý speaks Russian. Well, I say 'speaks'...this might perhaps be generous, yes?" He flashed a brief smile at the joke. "But she knew enough to keep up with most conversations, when we were younger. I imagine it's a little rusty, but give her a bit and she'll pick it back up. She is a fast study -- Frauline Maria, if you teach her the cutlery and such I think she would be fine. I am...less quick to learn such things.

"I might be able to pass as serving staff, if I must. But I might do better as one of the valets -- I drive well, and then I could keep an eye on those coming and going, though it would be up to the rest to watch other ways in. The biggest issue for me is my accent and my manners." Izkry ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "My accent is decidedly Germanic, and I would never pass for upper class without a lot of work."

[Assistant]
An Interlude: The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed...

Midday. An apartment in Manhattan, New York.

It was a small one and simply decorated, but it was enough for Hasso Steiner, the Thousand Faced Man. He was a simple man, a cog in a great machine. He was shaving his beard in the bathroom. Hasso had been born in Prussia into a military family, and his father had taught little Hasso how a man should shave his face. Steiner the elder, named Franz, had been a devilish disciplinarian, to say the least, but to him details mattered the most.

Hasso was a man in his late thirties. He had a tanned skin, black hair and green eyes. And wasn't. Mimicry was his expertise. He could mimic other people, changing his appearance, his weight and height to an extent. He was a spy by profession, and was about to get his final orders from the Fatherland. For years, he had been waiting in New York, waiting for his activation.

The razor was sharp, but he didn't feel nervous. He felt calm and steady, as he drew the blade slowly but surely across his jaw. He had to look nice. He was going to meet one of his contacts.

It was risky. The FBI was on his tail, and a squad of feds had tried to raid one of his safe houses, but Steiner had rigged the apartment with explosive and traps. The agents triggered one of the traps, and blew the house to rubble. Hasso had been just a block away, buying groceries from a nice lady at a market. He had simply moved to his another safe house in Manhattan.

Hasso finished with his shave. He checked his jaw and washed the shaving foam, drying his face with a towel. He took a quick shower and dressed in a regular black suit. Nothing too fancy, as it might draw unwanted attention. He walked outside to a busy street.

He started to walk, not hurrying, not loafing, going with the flow. The war hasn't descended on New York, and it seemed that there wasn't a war going on, except Hasso could see long lines of young men in front of recruitment offices. He took a longer look at them. If they all were qualified into service, the Wehrmacht would be even more hard-pressed. Hasso had read the news and heard rumours from the Fatherland, and they weren't just good. I hope Otto is all-right, Hasso thought, continuing his striding down the street.

There was a restaurant near his apartment. It was better than your average restaurant, and Hasso walked inside. He knew the contact would meet him there. Hasso was lead to a table, and started to wait. He ordered a glass of red wine. It was from California, but it would do. A few minutes passed quickly, and Hasso looked around him. The restaurant was starting to fill up, and soon enough his contact joined his table. The contact was a she, a sharply dressed woman in normal street clothes. Hasso rose to greet her informally and warmly, like old friends.

"I assume your father sent you", Hasso started calmly. They would converse quite... unprofessionally. She gave him a slight teasing smile. "Yes, And he is well, but he wants me to take more and more of his daily business running, if you understand what I mean."

"Clearly", he answered. "I remember he had some papers for me to sign."

"I have them with me. " She had a case with her, and she handed it to him casually over the table. "The instructions and cover are inside. And send my father's regards to them."

Hasso took the case, put it to the floor beside his chair and smiled faintly. "Will do, dear. Now, let's have some lunch. I've heard one can get excellent salmon with white wine sauce here. All this work gets me hungry."


[System]
Hero Name
Faire Glisser (Official in poorly applied French)
Zebra (Mean nickname)

Age
13 (Birthday on March 5, can be changed so its close to happening IC)

Gender
Female

Ethnicity
American

Nationality
American

Detailed Information

Appearance
Alex is a slim, tomboyish girl, with pale skin and a slightly toned body (nothing that looks out of the ordinary or healthy for a teen). With round and soft, yet determined looking eyes of a dark grey color and hair that is naturally black and white. She always looks like someone who just left a bath.

For clothes, she sticks to the uniform, sometimes using a tracksuit, among other sports clothes, and rarely using casual clothing. She likes to keep her hair in twin tails or ponytail (provided she is near mature people who won't bother her on her looks) and typically uses caps or hats. Wears swimsuits for underwear.

Hero Appearance
A zebra bra A sports bra with contrasting black and white pattern and leggings followed this same style, a loose cap, along with an electric green and black jacket. All tailored to not be harmed or to go loose and/or heavy with her powers. The green color was actually picked because she desired to not be known as "that water girl".

Personality
She is a focused, dedicated girl, who likes to explore her powers and challenge herself (Physically). She lives in the moment and is very forward about her feelings, this carelessness results in a strong mental resilience, she is rarely provoked by the words of others, but still takes offense and will act colder, if not a bit malicious, to those who try too hard to bother her.

Nobody ever described Alex as particularly bright, she often doesn't bother justifying her ideas or questioning why they went wrong, her pattern recognition isn't the best and more often than not she takes the wildest assumptions from explanations that should be simple. While able to focus, she also feels a need to move her body, and this detracts from her ability to read or study.

She tries to be independent and dislikes places with too many rules, even if she agrees with them, with its a sentiment born from disliking the overall idea of it as well as disliking having to memorize too many things. If leaving the academy didn't result in no more waterproof treadmills, cellphones, couches, beds, etc in her life as well as clothes that don't block her power, she would have considered leaving it.

And while it is nice that she has the mindset to brush off bullies and not be shy about her mind, her body and her mutation, there are perhaps things she should be shy about, like being shy about the mess that she calls a room, being shy about forgetting that when she goes to the mall she needs to wear more than a swimsuit, being shy about missing deadlines for school projects… Instead, it seems only others are bothered by her careless ways.

Notable Relations
Her parents? No one so far, though she will need a roommate according to the rules.

Everyday Skills
She is good at sports, as part of her training she developed skating skills, but she is also great at soccer.
She has a good sense of color theory and presentation, for someone typically useless in intellectual fields, she actually does well when it comes to being 'marketing savvy'.
Also she can swim well, very well, she doesn't even like it all that much, but it comes naturally to her.

💧Power

Water Affinity

The power of being wet. Alex has a kinship with water, and this is showcased by her ability to generate a coat of water that sticks to her body, basically, making her wet and, more importantly, slippery. It is a somewhat thin coat and does not enhance her body, but it is constant and is great for Alex to squeeze herself through passages where others might get stuck or to literally slide into battle, aquaplaning taking off the friction from the ground and allowing her to maintain high speeds (albeit with little to no handling of said movement)

A minor aspect is a resistance to moderate water hazards, being able to resist frigid water and snow as well as scalding waters and steam for longer than a normal person or even fully adapt to it. (For range example, she can carelessly go for a swim in a Russian ocean or relax all day on a hot spring, but when it comes to hot steam escaping a factory pipe, her advantage is surviving a couple of minutes in contact with it where a normal person would be seriously injured or killed.)

Weaknesses/Limitations
- Does not include water projectiles or manipulation of any sort. Does not generate enough water to be threatening.
- So far has not shown any ability to manipulate the temperate or form of the water
- The water still interacts with the ground. Tile floor or dirt after a rainy day is great for her to move through, asphalt is neutral, and sand is bad, as it absorbs a lot of water.
- Does not provide water breathing of any sort, though the 'water aura' does not block her breathing.
- Is not thick enough to stop projectiles or blows does not enhance her physical abilities.
- Most clothes block the power over the surface that is covered, only the academy provided clothes can reach the same performance as bare skin, though swimsuits or thin clothing are acceptable options to use the power while keeping her modesty.
- Her power is always somewhat active, and much like water, she has an easier time going down than going up, she cannot utilize ladders quickly without gloves, else she might slip and fall down.

Combat
Fighting Style
The main tactic is surfing fast towards enemies with clubs, shields, or weights on her hand, delivering a momentum enhanced crushing blow, moving close and away quickly. To make use of Parthian-like Tactics, especially when she can retreat facing the enemy, a whip is used as an option to keep the harassment going after the blow.

Close quarters combat is more complicated, she is developing a style with her teachers that use capoeira like moves to take advantage of her slippery nature and the lack of friction. It is far from done, however, so right now her main tactic is to just trash about and see if she can move away.

Strengths
In groups, her ability to slide quickly is useful for positioning and flanking, she can easily infiltrate areas through vents or small openings. She makes for a slippery enemy to deal with, with nimble movements, it can be somewhat stressful to deal with her, which is used to disrupt and bait enemies.

Weaknesses
She is a one trick pony in solo combat and said trick requires her to literally crash head-on with enemies. Negating that negates much of her combat power. Her power is very passive and more utility based, requiring weapons to be viable in combat, in a sudden fight situation, she would need to improvise.

Equipment
Her tailored uniform and hero costume (both compatible with her power)
A whip, a combat shield, a tonfa and a weighted anklet.

Cosmetics

Since a young age, her hair has white bangs.
She changes a bit when interacting with water, cold water makes her hair and eyes more white, her skin paler for days and even forms a few crystals on her skin and eyelashes. She keeps the red tan of hot waters for days at times, with constant breath vapor even if it's not cold.

Extra

🦓

Unnofical Character theme:

[User]
Venture Academy - School GroundsInteractions - @Shard

He could only imagine what was going through Neoh's head after the announcement. Oh the fun the two boys would have. Milly knew his brother would enjoy the combat, whereas they both would enjoy the competitive nature of the game. It was true Milly disliked extreme violence and more importantly, killing, but it was something he had grown used to in terms of fighting alongside his brother.
Milly found himself absent-mindedly staring at the flowers as they walked by, thinking about the announcement, but also thinking about the mission they had planned to go for soon.

A kind greeting snapped Milly out of his daze. He looked up to an all too familiar face and smiled, Hey there Connie." he said, giving a small wave at the young woman.

"I mean I'll try not to kill everyone. Some of these other supers can be quite a pain in the arse if they get bragging rights." he joked, snickering at Connie's comment.
Once Neoh pulled out the phone, Milly looked at the information about it before sitting across from his brother in the booth.
"What's your special today Connie?" Milly asked before glancing down at the menu, "Oh! What's the soup of the day?" he added. Venture Wok's soups were one of Milly's favorites.

[Assistant] As class ended Nathan would get up and start to gathering his books when he heard the announcement over the loud speakers. Thinking to himself he says "might be some fun, like one big mosh pit. I wonder who would be on my team". He would then rush back to his room to drop off his things and switch into his red t shirt and black basketball shorts before heading off to sign up for the event. After signing up he meanders over to the cafeteria to grab an order of general tso chicken and two vitamin waters, smiling at a few of his friends as he passes neoh and miles saying as he sits table next to them "you guys joining the event?". He would then take a bite out of his food. The taste was amazing like always and then orders a side of crab lagoon.

[User]
Astra

The charcoal haired girl had been lounging outside with her handheld console in hand - her completionist nature grinding to get all the possible collectables in her Kirby game - when a rattling voice sounded across the Venture campus from the speakers, alerting people of an upcoming competition. This sparked interest in Astra: capture the flag? That was definitely just her kind of activity, she could just mess with people and win her team multiple flags.
The announcement ended, but it had already brought Astra's attention back to this plane of existence from her game. Now the girl noticed how the time had passed by as she'd spent the whole morning gaming by herself. Whoops, Astra thought, saving and slipping the device into her pocket.
The first class of the day had already ended. Good, Astra hadn't been planning on attending anyway. It wasn't mandatory for her anymore, and she just felt like completing her safe file to 100% before getting anything else done. It had bothered her for a while now.
A low grumble alerted Astra to how hungry she actually was.
"Is it already lunchtime?" the girl wondered out loud, her habit of chatting to herself bothering no one because there were very few people around.
Astra made her way to the Venture Wok restaurant with little haste, thinking of a dish that would treat her hunger. As soon as Astra stepped into the mood-lit restaurant, she was overwhelmed with a plethora of mouth-watering scents. Instead of the usual greeting of Connie, however, there was no one to greet her in. Soon Astra found out why, and her face lit as a result. Connie was at a table occupied by two raven haired boys Astra was familiar with. There was a fourth person there too, Nathan. Astra smiled wide, her dimples deepening on her freckle adorned face.
She sat down on a bench so she'd be in the right position when she used her ability.
"Sup, Milly! Neoh, too. Bet you didn't see that comin'," Astra greeted right as she blinked into existence into an empty chair at the boys' table. Only then she had the brief afterthought of being polite.
"Mind if I sit here?"

[Assistant]
Venture Academy - School Grounds / Cafeteria

Alex was the sort of person who really could not stand normal classes, she had a natural desire for more practical actions, yet she rarely skipped on any class as she still desired to do well in school, and if she took notes, Alexya would help her understand it, it was much easier for her to focus when someone was talking directly to her.

Still, when the bell rang, she was quick to rush out of the class and escape to the fields, today was not a day in which she would have a particular training session, but that did not stop her from still doing it, although still following a few set rules given to her by the academy's physician so she would not overwork herself.

Changing into the athletic outfit that was better suited for her powers, Alex would start running across the running tracks of the academy. When she was younger, she assumed it was best to just aim for the most speed she could get when using her powers, however, the more experienced guidance she had now had made it clear that while speed was good, her ability to use her power was also tied to her balance, how well she could handle her direction while 'skating' and to discover new types of movement the lack of friction made possible.

When in simple movement it was easy to assume her power was just "ice skating but on any surface", however, these were merely aesthetic similarities, as she moved with aquaplaning caused by a layer of water covering her feet, as that was a flat surface, it reacted to her movement in a very different manner than the blades of an ice skate. In truth, she had almost zero maneuverability until she went to Azure, where her trainer instructed her to see if she could change the thickness of the 'water aura' in an uneven manner, which of course started to steer her movement. That had been years ago, and while her skills made noticeable leaps in each year, she still constantly trained simple things such as sharp turns, just making one had been an achievement, but Alex aimed to make it the least wide of a turn as possible.

Another thing she could train on her own was balancing things while she moved, it was not like she would need to carry a book on her head while using her powers, but it was a method to make her train her stability, which was useful in more complex movements. She really would much rather train those complex movements, it was 'fun' to try to go from a lying position to a standing position without breaking her glide, but it was always obvious when she was trying to rush her training, bruises were telling and a broken nose was impossible to hide.

With one last failed u-turn, she sighed, it was time to wrap up. Though after changing, she couldn't help but feel a bit hungry, so a quick trip to the cafeteria was in order. On her way, she noticed a few whispers of some sort of event, and while buying her food, she saw the flyer. Somehow she missed the announcement and almost the whole capture the flag event, but that was about to be fixed. She couldn't help but say to herself.

"Hah, this ought to be fun. I remember being the champion of C T F in the second grade." though back then most of the kids didn't have many powers, not that Alex was scared of those, or even remotely taking that into account to properly plan a course of action.


[System]
Age: 24
Personality: Keepa comes off as a charismatic sweetheart, interested in others' doings and especially human culture. Kind and elegant in their tact to the point of bordering the uncanny valley with their often lack of reaction to hostility and hatred. Its suspected that this is mostly a ruse to lure in prey which ended up being defining characteristics of their personality out of instinct and habit. When threatened, Keepa shows the stark two-face of his coined behavious; violent and vindictive, determined to extinguish even the potential of ongoing threat to themselves and whatever they may care about. As a dragon, this is the sort of behavior that gives them a bad name. As a demon, such behavior classifies Keepa as 'wild', a shunned ranking of caste from his homeland which regards him as predictable as a starved, crazed dog. As a human, hes seen as a liar and a murderer. In all reality, he would rather be left alone, although his nature and physiology compels him to seek out life. He isn't bad, per se, just built poorly for the civilized world...or built perfectly for it. The judgement is mostly left to interpretation.

Magic-like Abilities
- Keepa has a refined control of life energy, mostly for the purpose of consumption and personal perseverance. The process is similar to a leech, although the rate is controllable on some levels. With a max range of about five meters and a max effectiveness with skin-contact, affected individuals feel a slight sense of exhaustion which grows from prolonged exposure (1 hour feels like 2, 2 hours feel like 5). This can be suppressed at will, although Keepa lives off of others, parasitically and the thought of stopping doesn't often occur. This can be applied to all living beings, though it functions considerably slower on plants then it does other living creatures.

= While absorbed energy is added to their mass, it is possible for Keepa to reverse-burn his own mass into a subject for the purpose of healing even nearly fatal wounds. However, this consumes a considerable amount of mass in order to 'sew' life back into the subject, piecing them back together or replacing lost flesh. Wounds healed in such ways are stained with jagged black scars that eventually fade over the course of a week to a month depending on the severity. With the mass required to heal severe wounds, Keepa may not be able to fully heal a subject without taking on considerable mass from outside sources in the process. This is a procedure which has not been often implemented and is highly inefficient.

Standing at 170cm (roughly 5'5ft), the skin of his human form has little give and has a strange porcelain smoothness to it.

Taking the appearance of an adult dragon with ink black skin with a brilliant smooth sheen as if devoid of scales. While in this form, a light black mist continuously drifts from their figure, slightly obscuring themselves if they stood still long enough.

The rippling dark mass which Keepa is made from shrinks and grows with the tide of energy they consume. In their true form, their magic is at its most powerful although the light of the sun (and other lights to a far lesser degree) burns away their mass. This is The only way the humans have found to contain Keepa, by shining spotlights on his human form day in and day out to discourage the use of this form. Fire is a functioning substitute, Keepa is otherwise highly resilient to most elemental and physical damage.

Where I am from? Hrm. That is the wrong question to ask, as I am faraid I have no feelings for that nameless land. They...had rather I left, I suppose you could say. Hmm...yes..no, I would not be here if I could be there as I am sure you understand. Heh heh~
It has been a while since I've had any company. If you don't mind me saying, it is quite hard to see you from here...ma'am? Sir! Right, my apologies. You are very quiet, and you keep it so bright. Where was I? Ah, well, starting from the beginning is what I am best at, wouldn't you agree? Hmm~? hu hu hu~!

I was once the talk of the town, a saber-slicker in their own right before being propositioned by a handsome young human. His claim was his soul against my sword, that he could strike me down and I would never again stand without even a single scratch upon his armor. Foolish as I was, so eager to eat souls that I~

Oh, come now, don't ruin the ending before it had even happened! A threat? Why, I would never stand a chance against your human engineering. Look at me now. What threat could I pose, chained to a wall in broad daylight for all to see, with only your painted white line to entertain on the off hours. You might see a line, I see a wall that divides two people. And what would I have to gain? I belong here, after all. On that, we can both agree, yes? I...deal...with your human prisoners, and in turn...well, I actually have no idea what you all get out of this.

Maybe you just like me~
I cannot entirely entertain an ideas as to why, though... *sigh*
Compliments!? Oh my, maybe today is a good day. You're nothing like the others that tried beating me or flaying me for scales I do not have. Pretty smart; pretty and smart~
Just a joke, just a joke! I only figured you would like a compliment in return. Oh, come on, don't leave!
______________________________

The subject has repeatedly insisted they be called an array of different names, all of which come with various backgrounds and variations of cooperation. They have settled on 'Keepa' now, although the staff refer to them simply as 'The Liar'
Liar was picked up on the outskirts of the Gold Village after reports of bodies found in alleys. Most were armed and considered either muggers or the like, but concern arose with the note that none of the bodies possessed significant wounds and had simply perished from apparent heart failure. Regardless of their crimes, it was official that we had a situation on our hands. Liar was later recovered in the middle of its apparent feeding on another victim, subdued with UV lights and transported to the prison before it could recombine. The Liar was held for three years before the breakout and is still considered at large. Little is known about the subject and caution is encouraged. Their whereabouts are unknown as of the moment.
Did they escape the hunters prison?: Yeeeessss?

[User]
Lynx's eyes glistened with awe as the two headed dragon preformed her stunt. He had no idea that dragons could learn such delicate magic. He looked around to see all the dragons around him, thriving as a society. It amazed Lynx. He was extremely happy that he was able to experience this moment.

The feeling of awe turned to horror as he heard one of the dragons growl with what seemed to be anger. Lynx tensed up a little, ready to flee if he felt necessary. His attention turned to one of the very large dragons who seemed to be running this whole event. Another dragon turned to the dragon who was holding Lynx, which Lynx now knew was called Nexias, about knowing what his guests were. Lynx's anxiety levels were at a maximum, as he thought the other dragon was referring to him. He felt a surge of fear run through him. He still wasn't sure if dragons hated demons or not, but from the looks of it, it seemed as if they wanted them dead just as much as the humans did.

[Assistant]
Draken
The black haired individual watched the young dragon's display, a much more prettier and passive approached compared to most of his other hatchlings who often tried to be bold and just as outrageous with their magic as his own. He supposed it was not a bad thing however, Damia was still quite a young dragon and pretty flowers could have thorns. Her magic simply didn't quite grow them just yet. But still impressive enough he supposed. If used aggressively, she might not do so bad.

At Ezekiel's question, the Dragon God simply chuckled. "One of my youngest offspring. Damia I believe her mother named. I admit, she doesn't have quite the force as the others, but having the only one to have grace with their magic. Especially for a two headed dragon." he mused before turning his head as a familiar scent drifted in his nose and a voice called out.

Glancing his red eyes to the approaching figure, a amused smirk crossed the elder's lips as he saw the dragon Nexias. Who eagerly spoke to him in the usual fast crazy manor. Of course, dragging along demons. Nexias was a odd individual, perhaps just like Draken but in a slightly different way. But that's what made it fun really. Their magic was also not quite so different if one thought about it, which was perhaps why they got along well. That and both enjoyed driving just about everyone else insane.

"Awe Nex, it indeed has been a long time. We have been well, though some hatchlings decided to swipe Ezekiel's mask. It's been a long time since he's been without it." he mused before smirking a little at the chicken comment.

"Excellent, Nex, I knew you could accomplish such a feet. Those under the chaos of the Chickens of the Night shall never know what shall befall them." he chuckled with a hum before glancing back to the young green dragon. "Awe yes, I believe that one there is the youngest, last child aged dragon of my hatchlings. She's a bit more passive and graceful compared to the others more destructive power, but she's still young and her magic can prove promising with time." he said before looking to the demons.

"I see you're enjoying bringing in new creatures with you." Draken mused before listening to a growl come from the three headed elder.

As the elders spoke, Draken simply smirked in amusement, obviously showing very little to no worry upon his calm mischievous expression.

"Oh do show control of your temper dear elder. Wouldn't want be called going senile now would you? The poor hatchlings have worked so hard to show you what you got, the least you could do is pay attention rather than worrying about little flies." Draken mused with a smirk before looking to Nexias.

"If your plan was to annoy the Great Grandparents, I quite approve." he chuckled to the younger dragon.

Damia

The two-headed dragon shifted uncomfortably as she listened and watched the elders carefully discussing. Her long body shifting side to side as if to to slightly pace in place. Nervous about if she would make it or not or if she did well enough. She trained extra hard after hearing Draken was here and she wanted to do her best. It was a lot of pressure on her and being one of his hatchlings.

As the final verdict was given, the two headed dragon brightened as she was declared a teen. Both heads chirping and flapping the wings excitedly as she flew in circles.

"Yes yes yes yes!" the left head cheered joyfully.

"Hah! I knew I could do it! No sweat!" the right head smirked more confidently.

"Oh shush! No need to brag so much! We were soooo nervous!" the left head spoke before both head bowed a little to the elders before fluttering out from the clearing, spinning and flying in twists and circles energetically.

"Thank you Chu!" Both heads chirped as they flew over the earth dragon.

Aster
Aster blushed a little as the earth dragon wrapped a arm around him and kissed his cheek. Ever since they had returned, the earth dragon had been... Quite lovey Davey as Myrtle would put it. More so than the regular flirting he usually did. Despite how easily flustered he got, Aster found that he didn't really mind it. Even though he called Chu a idiot for coming into the Hunters Guild to rescue him after trying to keep him safe, it felt nice that someone would come from him. Expecting the same abandonment he felt as a hatchling.

When Chu mentioned Damia, Aster smiled as he watched the child dragon perform. "Yeah she's been working hard so I'm sure she will do fine." he said before blushing deeper as Chu asked what to do and the dual magic dragon shrugged a little. "U-Um.. A walk through the forest doesn't sound so bad." he answered, his face reddening deeper at the nuzzles before Damia finished and passed, then he started pausing as a elder started growling.

At Chu's suggestion on leaving, Aster nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me." he answered before lightly kissing the earth dragon on the cheek briefly before darting off ahead of him towards the forest.


[System]
Age: 17

Year: 2nd Year

Appearance:

Personality: Excitable, Childish, and Thoughtful.

Background: Ever since seeing the Star Build Strike Gundam in the 7th World Tournament, Nanashi has become obsessed with Gunpla. Although he loves battling, he loves building much more. Having built replications of custom Gunplas like Maohs X Gundam and Ricardo's Wing Gundam Fenice.

Battling/Building Ability: Although Nanashi's battling ability is average, he makes up for it with his Gunplas superb making. His Gunplas performance and Nanashi's Gunpla knowledge keeps him from losing to other extremely talented battlers.

Mobile Suits:
-Name: Origin Strike Gundam
-Description: A pure white enhanced Strike Gundam with black features and an opening in the back of the neck that creates a plavsky particle scarf. The suit gains color depending on what Striker Pack is Equip. The Origin is also equipped with 4 circle shaped funnels that can create a particle shield and shoot independently. The Scarf can move around also like a pair of sub arms, being able to wrap around opponents to restrict them or to help repair broken off limbs.

-Name: Origin Zaku Warrior
-Description: An enhanced Zaku Warrior that's just painted white instead of green.

-Name: Origin Zaku Phantom
-Description:The Origin Zaku Phantom is the upgraded version of the Zaku Warrior, using parts from a Zaku Phantom kit. It has the two shoulder shiels as well as a thired one on its back. All shields hold a beam tomahawk and multiple missile pods, all able to fire homingh missiles. Lastly, the rifle is replaced with a beam sniper from a GM sniper unit.

Mobile Armors/Support Fighters:
-Name: Skyscraper
-Description: A support flier that equips and delivers Striker packs to the Origin Strike Gundam mid battle. It can utilize the effects of whatever pack is equipped. It's been modified to be remotely controlled by the Origin Strike Gundam.

[User]
"That would be great!" said Shouji said with a big smile. Then he glanced over at the now-snoring Sousuke, "Just, um... don't tell Sousuke. He's always had trouble accepting things from others... maybe it's a pride thing, I'm not sure." that was when Shouji decided to take a break from working on the Joker. Instead he pulled out an entirely different carrying case from under the hospital bed. This wasn't portable, and opened up to reveal an incomplete Gunpla and its remaining parts. Nanashi would recognize it as the SD Master Gundam that Sousuke had tried to build before. But even in its incomplete form, this Gunpla completely trounced its earlier incarnation. Not only design, but in that Shouji was actually adding customizations to it. He had even repainted the parts. No longer were they black like the standard Master Gundam, but were a bright crimson as if invoking the spirit of the Red Comet himself.

"Er, don't tell Sousuke about this Gunpla either." asked Shouji with a polite bow, "I'm trying to surprise him, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to keep this thing hidden in here." then he laughed a bit, "It's nowhere near finished yet, but I have a good feeling about it. I think it might even surpass the Joker."

[Assistant]
---

* * * April 28th * * *

Natsu felt an odd sensation the next day as he laid on his poorly-made bed. It was deeper, darker. A vortex of emotion that threatened to swallow him hold ... and yet, it was near impossible, no matter how much he wanted to, to ask for help. He trudged onto the edge of his full-size bed, his jogging pants a mess of wrinkles, his hair a old blue feather duster. He sighed and with that felt an ever-so-light release of that miasma in his heart.

I don't wanna go to school today ...

After washing up and putting on his uniform he opened his door, only to see Yuma sleeping across the narrow hallway. He was wrapped tightly in his white linen, his eyes staring intently at Natsu. They demanded that he stand still. "Natsu you're depressed, bro. Over something completely understandable but you can't avoid me because of it."

Natsu tightened his jaw. "You don't think I know that?"

"Most people do, doesn't stop them from running away from it."

Natsu was at a lost for words. So he remained quiet. "If you need to talk come to me, Natsu. I'm not only your brother, or your Gunpla builder, less not forget I'm also your best friend." Yuma shrugged off his covers and stood up, revealing how bonny he had become. Natsu turned his eyes to the floor. "I met a kid 'round my age yesterday in the hospital. I think his illness was terminal."

"...Oh. That's why you wrecked your room last night?" he accused. "So what man, you'll be okay. I got this from smoking and I'm sure that kid got his from somewhere too, you don't get sick like this out of the blue. So don't worry." Yuma reached out to clasped his shoulder but Natsu sidestepped it in a fit and started the down the stairs.

"Natsu?"

He hurriedly grabbed his backpack, slid on his shoes, and slammed the door behind him.

"Natsu!" Though he was out door, he imagine his brother ruffling his black hair in frustration. "Shit!"

* * * * *

The moment he got near school, he felt the grey overcome him and jumble everything together. His eyes glazed over with a sense of boredom. Knew he wouldn't get it. He ruins everything by jumping recklessly ahead ... I was happy it wasn't me. That it was him on the chopping block instead.

The school day was host to a new endless tone, even as he was called on, he let auto-pilot handle his life. At least he would until a bit of color emerged during Gunpla Club.

[User]
The week rolls by in the blink of an eye with a repetition of practice fights after practice fights against the CPU of the Battle Simulator until finally, Sunday. The day of the Practice tournament between Ichikawa, Hokuten, Nobuya and Karasato. The four (Mika following to watch) had to ride and switch trains twice before reaching Nobuya Private High School, where the tournament would take place.

The Ichikawa group all stood outside of the large school, the premise easily dwarfing Ichikawa High. Nanashi shivered a bit at the sight, "Man, I'm just getting shivers about this y'know." He said to the others "Well, I'll be relying on the both of you alot for today, so lets do our best and hopefully improve." He said with a fist pump.

Just as he finished, a van with the symbol of Karasato Academy (@Dezuel) stopped behind the group. "Oh? Seems like some of our competition arrived."

[Assistant]
Sousuke probably seemed the least nervous of the three. To be fair, he essentially had more tournament experience than either Nanashi or Natsu. Didn't stop the feeling of staring up at what would become a battleground, especially if it were one's first visit to said location. Sousuke breathed deep, then quickly adjusted his hat, "These are real battles, 2nd Year, that means I'll be billing you for the rounds we compete in." he said, adding a sly smile that made it impossible to tell if he was just joking or being completely serious.

Almost immediately a van pulled up bearing the symbol of Karasato Academy. Another school that Sousuke had never been to nor interacted with, so both of these teams would be entirely new encounters for him. But sometimes, it was devil you knew that could be more intimidating than a perfect stranger. Speaking of which, another van came rolling to a stop. This one bore the all-too familiar symbol of Hokuten Academy. At this Sousuke tipped his hat downward a bit, "And here we go..." he muttered.

Two Days Earlier

"All right, Team Chaser! That should do for our regimen today!" said Keiichiro, almost shouting. He took command rather easily, and the fact that he had a voice that seemed perfectly suited for barking orders made it even easier for him to assume the role of Captain. The team had been training with their usual regimen that day. Simulations depicting reenactments of famous of battles during the One Year War. Sometimes Chaser would be on the Zeon side fighting the White Base, other times they would be on the Federation side fighting against various mobile suits flown by Char himself. It made for great discipline building and tactical training, giving the team an almost professional aura.

"We'll be using tomorrow to rest and mentally prepare ourselves, so use your time wisely so we can-"

"Um, Sempai?" asked Sakuya, who was rereading the invitation letter, "Seems there was a last minute change to the turnout."

"Don't interrupt me when I'm giving a speech Sakuya!" Keiichiro barked dismissively.

"It's just that, this new school... Ichikawa. Isn't that where Sousuke-san transferred to?"

That got Keiichiro to stop dead in his tracks, "Huh?" he said, almost comically loud before snatching the paper, "Let me see this! Ichikawa Batlte Club... no name... members... Kanzen, Nanashi... Saisei, Natsu... AAHHHHHH!!!" he suddenly yelled with an almost comical fire in his eyes, "Kikkawa SOUSUKE!!!"

"Ahem." Tsukasa coughed quietly, "I thought you were past that now?" she asked coldly.

"What? Of course I am! Keiichiro Asaka doesn't hold grudges. Do I look I'm holding a grudge?" he asked, making a pitiful attempt at hiding his feelings, "New plan Team Chaser, we're having an emergency practice tomorrow!" and then Keeichiro stormed off.

The very next day, Keiichiro put Team Chaser through different training simulations. This time they were all against the Crossbone Vanguard. Clearly he wanted them to be prepared to counter anything Sousuke throw at them.

[User]
---

* * * April 28th * * *

Natsu stood between Nanashi-san and Sousuke-san, staring up at the grand institution known as Nobuya Academy. There was a notable irritation in his dead blue eyes. Even as he stood dumbfounded by the gray color of the extravagant school--which was a mildly-futuristic outlook of his own--he felt that prod of familiarity again.

The question. Have I been here before? arose three times.

Natsu Saisei watched Sousuke tip his hat down with a foxish flare. The blue-themed boy stepped to mimic his position and firmly grabbed his own neck. A tightened push on one side created a crackle of noise. With a sigh he said, "I'm ready to pummel'em all. Also, Nanashi-san, on the way here I was thinking of a few names for our group ..." He paused, slightly abashed. "The Definities. I thought hard about it and we're near nothing alike but we all have our definitions of Gunpla. It brought us together and I think it makes us who we are. So ... why not?"

[Assistant]
They had finally arrived to the Nobuya high school grounds where the practice tournament would take place.

Kayl had kept reading through a magazine throughout most of the drive to the place, with every now and then the occasional comment regarding the subjects Syo were discussing with the driver of the van. Kayl was dressed in his school uniform with a broché attached to his chest, marking him as the leader of the Karasato gunpla club. The symbol itself seems to very much resemble the icon for ZAFT.

He had stored his gunpla safely away in a shoulder bag, a bag which most would consider to be a tad too feminine for a guy. It didn't seem to bother him the slightest though. It was the perfect way to carry both boxes containing his gunpla, books and other important things. Behind him in the van sat Ternal, wearing a vest and longsleeved white shirt. He had remained silent during most of the ride, listening to music and getting into the spirit of fighting.

His gunpla were carried in a more regal manner, in the form of a black suitcase which also contained spare parts, building tools and some other things which were connected to what they were going to do. In the front seat, next to the driver of the van sat Syo. Who looked out of place from the other two students, he looked very much like a delinquent. His school uniform jacket was opened and his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, he carried his own gunpla in a black backpack with a skull on it.

The first one to exit the van was Syo, his shoes hit the ground and he let out a loud whistle as he looked over the school building, his backpack swung casually over his shoulder.

"Sheesh. These guys are trying to act big. Time to put them into their place." He tilted his head to left and right, before setting his eyes on the students from Ichikawa. He allowed an amused smirk to form on his lips as he approached, Kayl and Ternal taking abit longer to get out of the van.

"Yo! So you are the sad lot we are going to wipe the floor with today? Good grief. I thought we would actually get some challenge. Not some kids with defective gunpla." Syo put his left hand at his waist and stood tall and with his chest puffed out, obviously trying to taunt his opposition. A mocking grin on his lips. If he could trigger some reaction out of them he might be able to disqualify them if they went physical. It was all too easy. A couple of moments passed before Kayl and Ternal caught up to him.

"Syo, stop that crap right now. I don't want you to badmouth our sparring partners." Kayl walked up and past Syo, giving the latter a look which would tell anyone present that he did not approve of it the slightest.

"Sorry about that. I'm Kayl Lanzer of the Karasato gunpla club. Pleased to meet you." He reached out his hand towards the Ichikawa school members. "Let's have some fine fights allright?" Syo on the other hand gave the Ichikawa students a glare each with obvious dislike, not interested at all in shaking anyones hand. "Tch.."

The third member of the group, Ternal had approached aswell and had set his gaze on Lisa. "My my, I did not expect the opposition to have such a beauty amongst them. If you fight as good as you look, then we are in for a treat indeed. I'm Ternal, Ternal Dawning." Ternal did a courteus bowing motion to Lisa, and gave her a wink which could very well be considered seductive, complete with a soft smile.


[System]
Title: The Gull
Age: 22
Class: Pirate
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Home: Bern originally

Equipment: Hand axe
Economy: 500 gold

Personality: For the most part, Al can be summed up as being for the most part laid back and calm like the sea on a clear day, though much like the sea he can suddenly become restless and violent in an instant. He is prone to long periods of relaxation and savouring the little things followed by bursts of extreme energy, excitement and passion. More often than not related to treasure and the prospect of attaining it or some form of adventure. That said, he is smart enough to know an impossible fight when he sees one and is more than happy to switch sides or ditch a job if it means he gets to live another day.

Alignment: Chaotic neutral, good or evil depending on those around him

Simple description: A toned but overall small form with salt soaked blonde hair and green eyes. He wears the typical swashbuckling pirate attire of a ragged shirt and long pants tucked into worn brown boots with a long blue overcoat and sailor hat, most of it appearing oversized and mismatched from more than just one region's style of clothing.

Level: 1
Basestats: Allocate points to the following stats. You have 45 points available at level 1, with 3 extra per level above (level 2: 48, level 3: 51 etcetcetc).
Health Points: 18
Strength/Magic: 7
Skill: 1
Speed: 8
Luck: 4
Defense: 5
Resistance: 2

Growths: Allocate the odds for levelups in the following stats. You have 360% available to allocate, or if you're promoted already you have 200%
Health Points: 70
Strength/Magic: 40
Skill: 10
Speed: 30
Luck: 50
Defense: 50
Resistance: 20

The Gull lay slumped against the starboard side of the docked ship peering over the wooden railing to stare dully at the port town while regretting his entire existence, the part of that existence he regretted most of all was the throbbing pain in his head from the excessive amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night, much to the entertainment of his shipmates. Turning down a free drink was something he could never bring himself to do, not when everything in the world was so often held out of reach until he fought hard for it. He brought a canteen of fresh water to his mouth and took a sip, swirling it around then spitting it out to try and bring about some semblance of freshness or at the very least wash away the taste of regret.

"Al!" Came the irksome call of the ship's first officer whom the young man spotted approaching with a wave as he pulled his head away from the townsfolk. "Shhh." Alphonse pressed a finger against his own lip and lidded his eyes. "You're not still hurting from last night are you?" The officer asked with a smirk. "I don't deal with red wine well." Replied Al, more melancholic than usual.

"Well that's a shame given the haul the captain has his eye on next, the local lord's supposedly bringing in a shipment of the stuff tonight, the fancy kind in bottles!"
"Sounds like it'd fetch a nice price at least…" He wasn't too enthused by the prospect, bottles were easily broken after all and finding someone to sell them too wasn't going to be easy.
"Only snag is it's going to be guarded, not like the usual merchant ships, trained men."

At this, Al's eyes lit up and the headache was forced out by a thought. Real guards weren't cheap and chances are they'd have their coin purses with them on the ship, there may even be a few among them that could be ransomed for a decent amount. The pirate stood upright and inhaled a lungful of the sea breeze. "Let the captain know I'll be happy to lead the boarding party."

[User]
Cain inspected the market from atop his horse. Despite the impending hostilities with Bern, the people were in a celebratory mood, and business was moving along nicely. Even the very weather was working to assist the mood, with the sun shining out clearly, and the sky a clear cerulean color. Normally, such a scene would earn his approval - as stern as he was, one of the few things that moved him was the sight of his people prospering - but right now, all he could feel in regards to what he saw before him was a bitter sense of disappointment.

Where were the musters? The armsmen? There was nothing, no hint at all that they were preparing for the inevitable conflict coming to them. Did they think, perhaps, that just because they were furthest from the conflict, that they had nothing to worry about? It was pure folly, and he was here to inform them of it. To that measure, he would need to speak with the village counselors.

He was hoping his status as the heir to the House of Tania, one of the Lycian territories most likely to be hit first, would be enough to allow him an audience. Normally, authority was not much of an issue, but Ravenne was so far off from his own House that it was possible that his words would weigh little with them.

It was as he was making his way to the council meeting when he spied something unusual. It was a woman, beautiful even from a distance, with long red hair that contrasted with her bronze skin and glimmering blue eyes. Her manner of dress, and that of the man accompanying her, gave away her status. She was highborn, of that there was no doubt, which left the question: from where did she come from?

She wasn't Lycian, of that he was sure; he was familiar with all the prominent members of the Lycian houses, and her style of dress was unmistakably Etrurian. But what would an Etrurian noble be doing here at the border of Lycia? They usually had no business here asides from the occasional social events or weddings, and even then, those usually occurred in Ostia.

Unless they were here for reconnaissance . . . ?

Cain's eyes narrowed. Some would say it was a it much to be suspicious of a person you haven't even talked to, but to that, he would say that they weren't in danger of imminent invasion.

Tactically, it made complete sense. Should Bern invade and successfully annex even a part of Lycia, it would substantially boost the mobility of their warmachine, not to mention bolster their supply chain by a huge margi, an outcome that was all too plausible due to the increasing decadence of Lycia's leaders.

If that was the case then Etruria had two choices: to form a defensive pact with Lycia, which was unlikely given the futility of that course of action, or, more efficiently, annex some Lycian territory for themselves in order to stop Berns advance cold.

It was the most logical course of action to take, and he would even give his grudging approval if that was their course of action.

He wouldn't allow them to get very far, but he would acknowledge the utility of the choice.

[Assistant]
Lysander stood in an alley away from the bustling crowd. His dark cloak concealed the upper parts of his face, but one might be able to spot his grimace if they dared looked at him.

He did not like being outside while the sun was still out. He was forced to squint as his eyes never seemed to get use to the natural light. And worse still, he found himself in the middle of the village marketplace, which was naturally lively and full of salesperson and shoppers and possibly thieves.

He had caught the attention of a few children as they passed by him and sometimes they would point him out to their mothers only for them to be shooed away. "Get away from that strange man," they would say in a scolding manner.

"Ouch," Lysander thought to himself. "I don't blame them, but couldn't she have spared my feelings a little?" This was why he preferred books over actual, living people.

He then shook his head and refocused himself on his mission. There was a book on sale in this market that he was dying to get his hands on. He wanted it badly enough for him to leave the refuge of his inn room and seek it out in broad daylight. The merchant with the book was within his sights, just across the sea of people. But every time he tried to step out of his hiding spot in the alley, a rush of people seemed to run by and he has not gotten the nerve to push through the crowd. So instead, he watched patiently, hoping that there would be a chance for him to make his way across to his precious book.

His moment came when a young redheaded girl stopped in her tracks to express her disdain for her company. It was for a short moment but her voice was loud enough where a few people had also stopped and turned to see what was going on. Without missing a beat, Lysander serpentined his way through the crowd. It appeared as if a black shadow was cutting across the marketplace.

When he finally reached his destination, his pale face was flushed from the short sprint he took to get there. But his next challenge was one of the worst yet. He had to talk to the merchant and ask to purchase the book.

If he was lucky, his appearance would spook the merchant enough not to mess with him. But Lysander was rarely lucky, and he knew his shy nature would give the merchant an opportunity to rip him off and overcharge for the book. Still, Lysander had to go for it. He pointed at the book to ask, "How much?" without needing to speak.

The merchant looked at him with a puzzled expression but simply answers,"800 gold."

Lysander felt faint. After all of this effort, he didn't have enough money for what he desired? What could he do now?