[System]
Appearance:

In armor.

Out of armor.
Age: 21

Planet of Birth: Alderaan

Species: MiraLuka

Skills/Abilities:
- Force Sensitive
- Force Sight
- Skilled Slicer
- Good with tech
- Jar'Kai Form
- Shii Cho Form
- Force Healing
- Force persuasion
- Basic Force power

Equipment:
- Two dissembled Light Sabers hidden in his armor.
- DC-15s Blaster pistol
- DC-15A Blaster Rifle
- Three Thermal detonators
- Custom Data Pads for slicing
- Modified Mandalorian armor

Personality: Quiet, thoughtful, and observant. Airus is unique as he comes from a race where all member are gifted with the force and born without eyes, the Miraluka. His hatred towards the Empire started when he was orphaned by clone trooper gunning down his parents who were fleeing Coruscant. However Airus was rescued by Jedi Knight Ylenic It'kla who was escaping to Alderaan. After his Master refused to promote him he left before the completion of his training to pursue fighting the Empire in the name of people. Tired of hiding in shadows and cowering he wanted to show other the Empire could be hurt and to stand up for his people who were all but extinct.

History: Growing up on Alderaan with Ylenic as his teacher Ylenic found Airus was a natural with the force and possessed a growing amount of skill. However as he aged he talked more of the Empire and Jedi slaughtering as well the murder of his people an all force sensitive race. Ylenic a close friend of Bail Organa was hidden along with a small group of Ylenic's people who much likes Airus's had been wiped out by the Empire. They lived in constant fear and hid deep in the wilderness. Airus's Jedi training was done in a formal manner as to keep the teachings alive for the next generation.

Ylenic often left with smalls groups of his people conducting small almost harmless raids on the Empire. His cover was as an aid and advisor to Bail Organa, Airus his blind serving boy. The Empire never caught on and Airus learned many secrets which he relayed to the Organa's and his Master. He talked more striking back with rebel groups and ending his training. At age twenty he displayed impressive force control and more capable techique with a lightsaber dueling having learned Jar'Kai and Shii Cho. However his Master claimed that he could not be a Knight until he mastered his Emotions.

Growing up on Alderaan he befriended a young Twi'lek girl named Shy'raa, she was a child prodigy and taught him everything he knows about Slicing. While he's not as good as her his custom Datapad was configured by her. Also he learned how to build droids finding it a fun way to pass the time having built three Astromech mechs in the past leaving them all behind on Alderaan for Shy'raa to assist her slicing. They keep in touch and often trade messages, sometime about fighting the Empire others about home and how there each doing.

Feeling that his master had betrayed him he left Alderaan and set out on his own to take the fight to the Empire on there home turf. He defeat several bounty hunters before wising up and taking on alias as Gin. His gear actually came from them, faking his own death he donned the armor of a Mandalorian commando and has had it modified to be lighter and less constrictive. Adding to that the blasters he collect off the bounty hunters and you have just another dangerous bounty hunter. He keeps his sabers hidden often preferring to use the force or his blasters. However he will use his blades if the situation calls for it, telling very few of his power he wants to wait before he reveals what he truly is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


[System]
Universe: Ar Tonelico
Appearance:

Personality: Though she appears to be a cold person, Shurelia actually prefers to hide her emotions as a result of traumatic events in her past. This makes her serious and no-nonsense in her capacity as an administrator, though she longs for freedom and to have a normal life. Is a compulsive liar about her age and will never admit it even when confronted with the truth.

Powers/Skills: Coding - Shurelia has the ability to code in the various languages that the tower uses.

Grathmelding - A special science that she created which imbues items with supernatural powers (aka Magic). Even though she invented it, she hasn't had much experience actually using it herself.

Hymmnos - As a Reyvatiel, Shurelia is able to use her connection to the Tower to perform powerful magics in the form of spells. These can be used for offensive, defensive, and a whole host of other utilitarian purposes. She has a limited repertoire of songs, but it is theoretically possible to make more with assistance. Given her current location, she is unsure if this will even work.

Song magic works on a charge system. The longer you have to charge it up, the more powerful it gets. But there is a power cap to how far you can charge it up.

Exec_Suspend - Puts the entire Tower in standby mode, which is coincidentally how she wound up here.

Primal Word - Throws a ball of magic at the enemy

Ar Tonelico - The Tower itself fires a big honking laser beam at the enemy

Life Fill - Revives and heals the target if incapacitated.

Energy Fill - Provides elemental defense and increases elemental damage of those the spell is used on.

Blast Fill - Boosts attack power, defense, and agility

Full Cushion - Creates a defensive barrier to weaken enemy attacks

Medi Fill - Cures abnormal status afflictions

Sonic Shot - Fires a short burst of sound

Fire Shot - Follows the label

Ice Shot - Follows the label

Thunder shot - Again, follows the label

Gale shot - Fires a burst of wind
Brief Bio: Shurelia was the first Reyvatiel ever created, with her name coming from her adoptive father after his daughter died in a war. Early in her life she was installed with Parameno and Grathnode Crystals to connect her to the Tower so she could serve as Administrator, a very painful process. This was completed to some extent, however it could not be fully finished because a few years later the Grathnode Inferia Catastrophe took place, killing her father and leaving her in significant pain until it ended With him gone there was no one left who could finish the connections.

After the end pf the Catastrophe, Shurelia convinced the world to help her build the Silver Horn, a new Sound Science System, that she demanded never be used for warfare. She was made Controller and given command over the Reyvatiels who had built it. However soon after strange creatures began to attack people, and she showed the people how to make β-type Reyvateils to defeat the monsters. This succeeded, too well. The monsters were defeated, but to her horror people began to mass produce β-type Reyvateils for use in warfare, culminating in the creation of Mir, the most powerful Reyvatiel ever. Shurelia was removed as controller of the Silver Horn so Mir could be put in her place, which worked fine until Mir rebelled and tried to wipe out her creators.

The people turned to Shurelia for help and she agreed to do so, only for it to end up being a trap to do to her the same thing that had been done to Mir before she rebelled. Shurelia was rescued from this by Mir but at a tragic cost of life, and in turn she declared war on Mir. Together with the Teru Tribe, they were able to build the Crescent Chronicle, and with the help of the second most powerful β-type Reyvateil in the world, Lune, they were able to seal Mir away.

In the wake of it all, Shurelia banned the use of Sound Science, though she did invent a new system called Grathmelding to make up for it.

Eventually though Mir woke up, and resumed her plan to create a world for only Reyvatiels. Shurelia sent one of her most trusted knights, Lyner Barsett, to get the Purger Crystal so they could defeat the viruses that were trying to break through to Platina to free Mir. Lyner succeeded in this, and Mir was temporarily stopped. the next threat would come as Platina was taken over by Kyle Clancy, who almost released Mir. This tired Shurelia, and while she was weakened she was betrayed and taken over by Mir and one of her followers. Fortunately Lyner was able to separate the connection between them using an FFT Divider. However Mir's revival continued, and as a last resort Shurelia suspended operation of the tower, stopping Mir but also functionally killing herself too.

At least that was what she thought. Up until she awoke in a strange city she had never seen before....

Equipment: Linkage Armor - Serves as protection and allows Shurelia to communicate with the Tower, though obviously the Tower isn't here so that function is basically useless.

Others: Has absolutely no sense of direction. Fond of bunnies. Has an interesting ability to cook.

[User]
Pokémon Trainer Hilda
Ah, Castelia City! The City of Grandeur! No matter where you went in Unova you'd never find a place like it. Even though it was early in the morning, the bustling metropolis was already teaming with activity, as both people and Pokémon swarmed between the skyscrapers like ants around a hive. And one of these people was none other than the current Unova League Champion; Hilda of Nuvema Town, sixteen years old, currently lost amidst the crowds.

"Aw darn it..." she mumbled, as she fumbled about with a map. Even though she'd been to Castelia numerous times before, the layout always confused her. "I'm never gonna get my Casteliacone, am I?"

Maybe it was this way... Or maybe that way... Or possibly this way? There were so many streets and alleys in the city... Although the one she'd ended up in didn't look familiar at all. Nope, not familiar at all. Wherever she was now, it definitely wasn't Castelia anymore.

"...Must've took a wrong turn." Turning around, she realized that yes, she definitely wasn't in Castelia anymore. Or, indeed, anywhere she'd seen in Unova before, and she'd seen pretty much all of Unova during her travels. Nope, this was... She wasn't sure where she was other than some random street in an unknown town. How'd she even end up here, anyways? At the very least, it didn't take long for her to run into someone who looked just as lost as she was, some redheaded Kanto-looking girl (and judging by her shorts and ponytail, one with impeccable fashion sense).

"'Sup!" she said, giving the redhead a friendly wave. "I take it you ain't got a clue where you are either, right? I mean unless Castelia City's gone under some major redevelopment when I wasn't looking..."

Smiling, the Pokémon Trainer extended a hand towards the redhead.

"Name's Hilda, by the way. Pleased to meetcha!"

[Assistant]
Sakura Kyouko

Kyouko paused, hearing a voice behind her. Resting her spear on one shoulder, the redheaded girl turned on her heel. At the moment, her magical girl transformation wasn't fully active, leaving her clad in her usual favorite: Short shorts, a black shirt, and a green sweatjacket. It was easy to move in and comfortable, so it's what she preferred for the type of outfits that she wore casually. The girl she now laid her eyes upon had dark hair, and spoke... Kansai accent? It sounded like Kansai, but somehow it didn't seem like her mouth was actually making those sounds. Ah, whatever.

"Hilda, huh?" she asked. The girl seemed familiar in some kind of strange way, but it wasn't anything she could put her finger on. While there wasn't any particular reason to trust the other girl, at the same time she was the first person Kyouko had met since arriving here. So it's not as if she had any other options at the moment. This was the only person who she could talk to, who seemed to be in the same boat as she was.

Kyouko drew a pocky stick from a box in one of her sweatjacket's pockets, inserting it into her mouth to replace the one she'd lost before burying her free hand back in them. She didn't shake hands that easily.

"Sakura Kyouko," she introduced herself, plainly, "I don't got any clue where I am, either. I dunno what the hell happened."

No effort was made to hide her spear. Why bother?

[User]
Shirai Kuroko

Where random criminals were being electrocuted in alleyways, there were always two constants. The first was that some imbecilic thugs had failed to recognise the most publicised of all the Espers in Academy City. Quite how they managed to repeat this mistake time after time, nor ever realise that anyone wearing a Tokiwadai uniform was at least a Level 3 and probably capable of handling themselves, was one of life's eternal mysteries. Stupidity was a possible explanation, though even an idiot would recognise Misaka Mikoto easily enough. Maybe they were just cocky.

The second constant was that these broad daylight assaults got the same Judgement agent responding, time after time. It was unfortunate that the fastest responder in the district would consistently arrive after the matter was over and done with, as nobody with that sort of ability should be able to arrive late to the fight. Simply finding out about the conflict and working out where it was, even with a technological savant, took time. Today was no different, with the agent dropping in the same as ever, not realising at all that the scenery had significantly changed from its norm.

"Onee-sama, how many times have I told you to leave these criminals to Judgement?"

---

Reinhardt Wilhelm and Ana Amari

To say that neither the Middle East nor Scandinavia quite matched the city that the two old veterans found themselves in was quite an understatement. Both had wandered through the strange environment with various degrees of subtlety--Reinhardt occasionally calling out and making no attempt to disguise his presence, whilst Ana stuck to the shadows and kept looking for the optimal route to not be seen. That their paths would cross so soon after walking over was unexpected, though perhaps inevitable; in the grand scheme of things, they came from almost exactly the same place.

Reinhardt, of course, had no idea that a familiar sniper was hanging around. He'd always been one for getting up close and personal, leading a charge and dealing with the consequences as they might arise. Spotting someone skilled in hiding, particularly when she stuck to his blind side, was something that the old man was never going to notice.

The other was left weighing up whether she should reveal her survival to Reinhardt... dependable, moral but emotional Reinhardt. Of the veterans of Overwatch, only her daughter would have taken her 'death' so harshly and these weren't controlled circumstances to reveal herself in. The circumstances, in the end, forced Ana's hand; this city wasn't somewhere she could have gotten just from scouting away from Jack and Reinhardt seemed as lost as she did.

Unlike her last reunion, Ana could say that it went well. It wasn't a horrifying reveal in a firefight--though she made sure to not mention that fight, as the other survivors' secrets weren't hers to tell--and the giant of a man seemed to overcome his grief with alarming rapidity. The other reunion hadn't left her quite so aware of the age in her bones, nor quite so sore; even when being gentle, a mountain of a man and powered armour were a bad combination for embraces.

Now they were walking around the apparently empty city, with Reinhardt narrating a story about how one of Torbjorn's daughters had tried baking a cake for the New Year and how it had nearly set the kitchen on fire. It was probably an exaggeration but, after dealing with the criminal underworld for so long and her own moroseness, Ana could appreciate such an upbeat tale. Of course, Reinhardt, helmet clasped under one arm, was too engrossed in his storytelling and the occasional grandiose gesture to notice the biker ahead--until pointed out.

"Hello! Could you tell us where we are?" the German asked, the first of the pair to actually speak to Kino--and as usual heedless of how intimidating a man of his size, especially with his armour, could be to children... male or female, he wasn't quite sure.

[Assistant]
Moving along in her Linkage armor, Shurelia had been able to confirm that this was most likely not a place on one of the Plates or below. The lack of people made that quite clear. She was fairly confident that her presence would have drawn some attention, at the very least an attack by a suspicions populace. Not this complete silence that seemed to reign for now.

That left her options increasingly smaller. Either she was in some randomly habitable portion of the Sea of the Dead after all, which seemed unlikely, or this was a ploy by Mir of some kind to take advantage of her and stop her efforts to Suspend the operation of the Tower. That first option was unlikely at best, which meant this was most likely a trap of some kind. And without access to the abilities of Ar Tonelico, stopping her plan would be that much more difficult.

She had just drawn near a street corner when a strange figure in a long purple trenchcoat and a black hat walked past with the gait of someone who knew where he was and where he was going. For a second she thought it was a human, but then hr gaze narrowed behind the helm of her armor. No, this was most definitely a machine, of a kind that she did not recognize. It was certainly nothing that had originated in Platina.

"You," she said, coming to a stop and speaking with the authority inherent of a lady of her position. "What is your designation." At worst she would be attacked, but she was expecting that from Mir. But it was the only way she had to get more information on what was going on. Hopefully Mir was in a gloating mood.


[System]
Amelia Artemia Averyonna

Character Summary
Age: 11
 Species: Vampire
 Sexuality: Undetermined
Relationship Status: Probably too young for this, but single 'cause immortality.

Appearance
Height: 4'0
 Build: Slim
Eyes: Steely Blue
Hair: Pale Blond
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Absolutely flawless

Amelia has, as to be expected for her age, a slim, childish figure with smooth, pale skin, soft but piercing blue eyes, and straight, waist length pale blond hair that never curls naturally. Her slim build makes it incredibly easy to underestimate her actual strength, something some might find funny. The only possible 'flaw' some might find in her features is the perpetual frown on her face and the sad, haunted look in her eyes. Should one be able to get her to smile though, she has one that could light up the room.

For fashion, Amelia tends to prefer simple, often slightly baggy cloths. Single color shirts, jeans, and sandals are her preferences, with the sandals being switch out for regular shoes or boots in the colder months. One special occasions she'll wear single piece dresses that help compliment what figure she has. Her preferred colors appear to be blues, greens, purples, and white.

Personality
Shy * Pacifist * Naïve *

Personality: Amelia is a shy, reclusive young girl who finds it hard to approach others due to her past. When forced into a conversation, her voice is often slow, just barely audible by human standards, and lacking any sort of confidence. She is afraid to speak her mind or tell others how she feels and will often simply fall silent if she is uncomfortable with a situation.

Underneath this heavy shyness though is a girl who is still very much a child. She craves kindness and attention but is afraid to pursue it only to lose it all. She loves toys and sweets but will never ask for them, no matter how much she might want them. She will never run to others when her fear of lightning affects her, preferring not to burden them and deal with it herself.

No matter the situation, Amelia will never raise a hand to defend herself. Her vampiric strength more then gives her the ability to do so against all humans, but even then, she would prefer to flee rather then fight. This preference towards shying away from violence extends to her consumption of blood, as she will never take it directly from a human or animal, preferring to take it from a blood bag or some other means.

Habits:
* Apologizes for everything
* Constantly watches her surroundings
* Bites thumb when nervous
* Will occasionally speak through a stuffed rabbit

Strengths:
* Is a natural at hypnotism
* Easily Underestimated
* incredibly Fast

Weakness:
* Will not fight back
* Poor communication, refuses to tell others her problems/ opinions
* Fear of lightning: Major, sometimes paralyzing, phobia

Likes:
* Art, has recently started drawing
* Gardening, another recent hobby
* Summer/warm night

Dislikes:
* Violent people
* Winter/cold nights
* Peppers

History
Amelia was born in a rural town in the state of Pennsylvania, to a middle class family. Her father, Arthur, was an electrician and her mother, Elaina, worked at a local daycare, watching over Amelia and several of the towns other children while their parents were away. Both of her parents were very nurturing towards their little girl and made sure they always had time for her and were available when she needed them. However, as if often the case, good things never lasted.

When she was the ripe young age of four, Amelia's family were attacked by a small coven of vampires on their way home during a stormy night. While her parents were killed, the coven took the young child and held her captive as a 'cattle', a simple animal they would feed from whenever they were puckish, but avoided killing or turning her into one of their own. Due to viewing her as nothing more then an animal, Amelia was often abused and berated, slowly leading to girl to mentally withdraw from the world and close her heart.

This abusive life-style continued for six years and only ended due to pure luck. While the coven was moving to their next feeding grounds, they came across a nomadic vampire named Dmitri Machinkov. Initially friendly with each other, Dmimtri traveled with the coven for a while, talking to them and witnessing their life style. While doing so, he also witnessed the covens abuse of the young human 'pet' they kept. While initially displeased but silent, after a several days, Dmitri had enough to stepped up to defend the girl. A fight broke out and, despite being outnumbered and protecting a helpless human, Dmitri was able to win with relative ease.

Over the next year, he traveled with the girl, giving her a name due to her forgetting her own and trying to help her open up to the world. His efforts were partially successful, with his greatest success being to get her to talk to him through a stuffed rabbit he bought her a proxy, though she didn't learn ventriloquism. Still, it was a first step and from there, he got her to open up, little by little until she could almost pass as simply a shy girl.

Tragedy struck once again though, as both where attacked by a coven that had been friendly with the once that had previously 'owned' Amelia and were less then happy with what had happened to their friends. The coven ambushed the two and while Dmitri was able to hold them off again, one of the coven members had hung back to attack Amelia while her guardian was distracted. His blow was meant to kill and it would've done so instantly had Dmitri not noticed at the very last second. With Amelia injured and dying, her guardian flew into a rage and slaughtered their attackers before calming down and checking on his young companion. Knowing she would not last long, he took the only option he had and turned the young girl to save her life.

Shortly after this, he traveled with her to Castle Bloodmoon, to leave her under the protection of his old friend Hadrianus Nightbane. Knowing the castle was a school for young vampires and a place she could live without fear of running out of blood or being attacked, Dmitri felt it was best he leave her there so she could learn and live in peace. Amelia has not taken this well, feeling abandoned by the one person she thought would stay by her side and causing her to retreat into herself once again, though thankfully not as much as before.

Extras
 Advice To The World: Value what you have, for it could be taken away at any point.
Anything Else: Often carries a small, stuffed rabbit on her person, the first gift she ever got from anyone. It was from her sire, Dmitri Machinkov.

[User]
Drake Morrison

---

@KazAlkemi

---

 Drake watched as the two boys ran off. "You should get yourself cleaned up, you'll be healed soon, though don't think we will not be discussing this later," Hava told him."Yes ma'am," Drake started and as he stood up, he had a bit of a grin on his face. "You know, the reason I lied wasn't to trick you so much as the others," he said, jerking a thumb in the direction the boys went. He went over and picked up the cello that was lying on the ground, surprised that it wasn't broken, though it did seem to have some scratches from being tossed around. He brought it back to Hava and went to hand it out to her. "This was that vampire girl's. I don't mind talking about it, but tonight probably isn't the best time." After that he started to leave but the turned back to add, "Oh, and uh,...thanks for showing up when you did."

 Later, as Drake was cleaning up, he couldn't help but think about what could have happened if Hava didn't get there in time. To be honest, he could care less about the two jerks, in fact it felt pretty good throwing them around, but anybody else who was close by was in danger. He let out a heavy sigh as he tried to clear his thoughts. After cleaning up, Drake got dressed and went over to the cafeteria to get some food before going to the chambers for the night. When he arrived, he saw Daniil already digging in, and he made a small wave to the guy. After grabbing his food, his sat at an adjacent table, within talking distance, and started eating as well.

[Assistant]
---

---

Nick Smith

---

---

"Well to be honesty, I wasn't not paying attention to either of my classes, well expect for history which I may add is the most interesting class ever. I mean, I didn't know how big vampire history is until now." Nick say with a very excitable tone, Nick know there nothing excited about history but vampire history was different, Nick feel vampires were around like forever and it make Nick feel less alone in their little world.

While two roommate talk about history class, Nick realize tonight is the full moon, which means Cole have go to lock down room which sound like it sucks for werewolf, I mean think about it, if you are a werewolf and have to go a lock down room and turn into a werewolf with no self-control, then that won't be so much fun would it?

Nick thought about it and come up a idea, they rush toward their bag and pull what look like a blue gemstone necklace. "Hey Cole wait, I want to give you something before you go the lockdown room." Nick give Cole the blue gemstone necklace "That gem is call a Blue lace agate, my aunt say it help bring you calmness and peace of mind. I mean, I have other gemstones that my aunt give me but I think gem can help you."

---

---

Gwen Danielson

---

---

Gwen really does enjoy the silence of the library while reading the books.....at least she was enjoy reading in silence until when a big group of people enter the library and start talking. Gwen get up from her seat with a annoying sigh, well if I can't have peace and quiet, then I have to find my own peace and quiet so with that thought, she check out the books she and walk out of the library with them.

Gwen try to find a quiet place to read but no matter where she goes, rooms she enter are either loud or the doors won't open. she finally find a place where it is quiet and that place was the cafeteria. One person that was there however, was a guy who is eating meat but Gwen shrug it off, she sat down and return to her reading.

[User]
Reena

She froze in her spot, eyes wide for a moment when she turned to face the man. She began to fumble with her hands, her fingers twitching about as she began to grow uneasy. What would happen with the other two? The glares, pushes and otherwise harmless bullying could increase to something she might not be able to keep up with. The attack could actually become commonplace couldn't it? If they found out that she sent the headmasters after them?

"I..." That was when she realized that the other student could get out of being in trouble if she spoke up. Risk the bullying at his expense after he helped her? That was not something the red head could deal with. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if that was how she paid people back, that was cowardly. More so than she would allow within herself.

And so, she took another step back to the vampire. Grey eyes darting around, unable to look him in the eye. Her words falling through parted lips as she started from the very beginning, how she was playing some music under the stairs. How the students who came were a pair that she grown used to for some time. The attack, how the one who came to help her was the one werewolf in her class that liked to challenge people instead of waiting to be paired up. She didn't remember their names, she was too far from people to really talk to anyone to begin with.

"If he wasn't there, I'm pretty sure my night wouldn't have been easy. They were attacking him in such a way that I'm pretty sure they were trying to injure as both, if it's cause of the full moon I don't know..."

[Assistant]
Amelia smiled as the other girl accepted the blood pop. After she was sure the other girl was going to enjoy it, Amelia went about picking up the books on the floor, knowing they would be in trouble if the area in front of the fireplace was a mess, since it increased the risk of there being a fire. As she worked, she was able to ignore the sounds of the conflict going on outside. When the girl she had offered the bloodpop to suddenly spoke to her, Amelia quickly turned around in surprise before registering the question she had been asked.

A frown crossed the young girl's face. She didn't actually know her age. She hadn't celebrated a single birthday since her parents had been killed and she had been made into a living blood bag for them to feed on. Even after Dmitri had rescued her, she hadn't found out how old she was, just an estimation at best. So the best answer she was able to give the stranger was a silent shrug, as she had no answer to really give.


[System]
HistorySona, known as Sonsheeta, was born to a family which consisted of her mother, her father and her older brother Anadin. They were a well-kept family and they had high morals for the upbringing of their little girl. Even though Sona didn't exactly like this as she grew up, she followed up with her parents and the forest's rules.

From a young age, Sona was instantly attracted to the power of music and how instruments can help others, or destroy others lives. This is what encouraged Sona to sneak out her house one day and asked the eldar (who can play music very well) to teach her to play the harp. The eldar disagreed at first because of her parents, but eventually took her under his wing and started giving her harp lessons. It didn't take long for her to become a musical prodigy within the forest's borders. Everyone was proud of her for her achievement. But with this, it made her brother very jealous.

Anadin hated the fact that his baby sister was getting all the attention, he wanted all the attention and he hated his sister for that reason. So he delved into a plan to kill his parents and his sister, make himself out to be a hero and be what he always wanted to be: in the middle of everything.

On the night, his plan failed: hard. Two elves were finishing their date when they noticed Anadin setting up a fire to burn the whole place down. Anadin wasn't impressed with this so he entered the house and murdered his parents. The Eldar's guard was quickly notified when a local outcry was happening, some rushing out of their homes to burning.

Anadin almost killed Sona with his own bare hands when the guard rushed in and gravely injured Anadin, at the cost of almost losing his own arm. Anadin ran away afterwards, leaving his sister alive and well.

It didn't take long to realize that Sona really wasn't safe in the enclosed woods thanks to her brother, he seems to be stalking her every now and then. And even after a few near-death experiences because of him. She decided to tell the Eldar her fears. The only suggested that the Eldar could come up with, was that she had to leave the place; maybe she could possibly learn more about the art of music??

Sona noticed that this is something that she may need to do after all. She decided that she will leave, but she will try to visit the place frequently to tell them of her travels. Thinking that maybe her adventures will inspire her to write music, and just possibly make a few songs of her own.

It was this time during her early years of travelling, she made a bird companion who was injured, so she let the bird stay on her shoulder and named him Alto. Alto has stayed by her side ever since and they keep each other company while she is on her own.

One year, she has finally made a stop back to her birthplace, and was greeted by everyone there once more as they missed her loads. She told them of her travels and they seemed to love her stories, from entertaining in pubs to finding Alto, she felt very happy to be relaxing once more. Except at that night, her brother tried killing her once again.

He entered her place of rest that night and tried murdering her in her sleep. Sona didn't want a repeat of what happened them few years ago and had a little fight on her hands before running out of the place and went into hiding. The elves were not impressed.

Now, Sona has made her out of the village and is travelling again, where it will take her to this time. She doesn't know, all she knows is that she wants to travel with some company. And that she may not be so lucky the next time her brother finds her.
Parents: dead parents
Siblings:An alive brother named Anadrin, they hate each other and he wants to find and kill her personally
Childhood:
Adulthood: Anadin killed her parents,
Special Moments: When she bought her first harp, when the Eldar's guard protected her from her brother trying to kill her the first time
Current Events: Is currently travelling, but wants to find people to travel with, and wants to travel to find some inspiration for some music. Has no knowledge of what is happening because the forest she comes from is very secluded, and she has only started travelling again.
Relations
⚜ Crush: Her forest Elder's guard * ☯ Neutral : fellow bards in her forest : classed as rivals * ☮ Friends: the elves in her forest * ♥ N/A* ⚤ N/A * ☠ Sworn Enemy: Her brother, Anadrin
You may work out several predone relations as NPCs you control. Limit one high ranking character, minimal of one sworn enemy - all npcs are limited to base information and items within the Rp. Relations can be worked out between player character before start of Rp if you wish and added to during the Rp

Extras
Character Quote: 'If you believe it's impossible, it will be impossible' Something they say a lot or live by
Theme Song: Adrian Von Ziegler - Druidic Dreams
Aura Color: Earthy Green
Scent: Metal due to the harp, and maybe flowers?? Anything Else:

[User]
Keystone
Location: Road North of Salarn, CampInteracting With: Medieval X-Men, Cremwise, Cyneburg

Silence, except for the wind, caressed Keystone's awareness of Self. His extended meditations began to fix his mind into a state of hyperinformative insight, wherein great truths of himself and the land around him began to unfold, as the petals of a great water flower may; slowly and with great deliberation, true enlightenment hidden inside.

Keystone's need for violence, his overly protective nature for both himself and others, coupled with his unfathomable depths of anger, began to unravel and fall away as the pure, golden light of his soul - his inner being, his ideal, enlightened, personally aware, inner Self - began to rise from the darkness and muck of his psyche's defenses and personal baggage, to assert itself as the rightful, enlightened, and potent force commanding the powerfully conditioned physical form of Keystone, the resulting amalgam being the perfection of mind, body, and soul, raising him from the common mundane origins from which he came.

The Perfect Warrior. A force of nature. The ultimate incarnation of Keystone. A thing which, given time, may very well be deified.

And then it fell to crap.

A moment before his great transcendence, a call to arms sounded in the form of, "We got company and it ain't the friendly sort this time." The uncouth brawler's sense of earthly duty pulled him from his illuminating reverie as he sprung up, fully awake and ready to run at full tilt, if need be.

Keystone's hoisted his pack and hung it from the cart, tossing a suggestion at Cremwise. "You ought hitch up horsey on the quick, it's soddin' off time." He disengaged the slip knot holding up his tarp underneath the wagon, crudely balled up the apparatus, and sandwiched it next to the cargo. Ready to go in ten seconds. Not bad, considering the circumstances. Then again, minimal preparation in the evening makes for minimal effort necessary in the morning.

The large man noted with some interest that one of their recent, veiled acquisition shifted from from a woman into a large, ursine beast. While it wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen in his adventuring career, it was the first time he'd actually witnessed it this closely. Curiosity (and, if he were honest with himself, a bit of alarm) turned his head in her direction. Yeah, he'd heard of woodland folk who could skin-change. He'd just never been on a job with one, owing to his urban upbringing and his occupation. Not a lot of opportunity for professional crossover there.

This upcoming danger did mean one thing - his hope for oat bannocks and strong tea was dashed, at least for the present. More pressing things took priority, namely the safety of their charge and his wares, at least until they're offloaded in the next town. If they made it out unscathed as well, bonus.

Keystone was ready to fight, even if his lack of weapons or armor (outside of his masterful leather coat) indicated otherwise. Still, despite his wary nature, he couldn't help himself. Nodding to the Bear-Lady, but focused on the surrounding woodlands, he queried, "Oi, is it true, then? You lot shit in the woods?"

One step from enlightenment, indeed.

[Assistant]
Malkus
Location: Near the camp, hidden in the bushes
Interacting With: Sir Slashy and his merry band of Stabbers. But no one else in particular.

Malkus crept closer and closer, quieter than a mice. Yet he never really got close to the camp; he kept moving through the bushes, trying to find the one bush or tree that was close enough for him to just dash out of, grab a bit to eat, and then split. This shouldn't be that hard; Malkus had done this plenty of times before, with even less cover. Hell, he has swiped a man's dinner right from underneath his nose once, in broad daylight, and escaped because of his speed and certainty. So what was it that was making a job like this so hard? That was a foolish question of course.

Because he didn't want to steal their food. Of all the things in this camp he wanted, he just wanted to be with Sona. A vision of fantasy flashed in his mind. It was a simple one: Malkus and Sona, playing their songs in the woods, on the open road, at the setting sun. They would break bread together, share a drink, and occasionally even got into trouble. It was a simple and innocent fantasy to be sure, but the reality was that Malkus was just a dirty thief looking for an easy meal and an easy life. Why work and suffer for meager gains when you could just take from those who've already done the hard work? That's how Malkus had survived for this long. He didn't know a thing about foraging for food or surviving in the wilds like this. He barely knew how to make fire, and he only stomached bugs not for any nutritional value, but out of desperation. Malkus wanted to live it easy, but he also wanted the luxury of companionship and, dare he ask, love. But alas, those weren't things he could steal with quick hands or a knife held to a throat.

The longer he lingered, the more he could also smell the food the campers had. He could smell salted meats, preserved fruits, bread and even some alcohol. But the more he smelled, the more he noticed something putrid. The scent of piss and dirt, of rusted metal and dried blood. Of death and war. That's when Malkus's eyes widen and he realized something very horrific. "Orcs!"

Malkus berated himself for his foolishness. He found orcish tracks near the camp, but they weren't merely wandering. He should have known that they didn't go closer to the camp because they didn't need to. They were scouting and found them, that's why the prints where so fresh and why they didn't come immediately. After all, why attack with five men when you can attack with twenty? Malkus could smell their ilk even from where he was at, but he couldn't tell from scent alone how many or where they were coming from. Only that they were coming, and were probably downwind.

Gritting his teeth, Malkus grabbed his Kukri. While he feared crowds, he hated orcs. If they were coming here, he didn't need to imagine what they'd do if they managed to overpower the group. If they were lucky, they'd just be killed. Otherwise... He didn't want to think about it. But what could he really do? Malkus knew he could kill maybe two or three. Five if he was lucky. But he can't take on a hold band himself, not without preparation. And he couldn't really rely on the others in the camp not to kill him, incidentally or not. He was a half-orc after all, and from a distance he probably didn't look too different from a regular orc. He should just leave. If anything, he could pick the bones afterwords for food, money, and literally anything else. But of course... There was Sona too. That damned elf, always on Malkus's mind, turning him stupid and making him act strange. He cursed his own lust and desires for making him act outside of his own self-interest.

So to quell these treacherous thoughts from confusing him further, Malkus made up his mind. Sona was going to be his. If he was going to suffer through the angst of losing her or being made to confront his own fears, then he intends to use her as his motivation. If he could have Sona, then he would have nothing to worry about. If he had to suffer the idea of being with her "friends", then he'll make sure she makes it worth his while. Malkus had enough of this uncertainty and confusion. Gripping his big blade and ready to draw his fighting knives, Malkus continued to stalk the camp in the bush, waiting for the orcs to arrive. Then, he'll strike.


[System]
"My dreams used to be rampant with monsters and fears, turning them into ugly, twisted nightmares, hellbent on tormenting me. Now, I will become the light to drive those monsters away."

STRESSED ØUT
Nickname/Alias:
Jack,
sex on a stick (imo)
.
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:

.
 |height. 6'0" |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he's had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn't really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he's (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.

Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn't particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people's hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person's skills.

Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec's ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn't him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec's lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
* The Power Rangers
* White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
* The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
* Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
* Protecting people
* The greater good

Dislikes:
* Galatec
* His job
* Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec's control
* His parents being under Galatec's influence

Fears:
* Slipping back under Galatec's control
* Not being able to find the Power Rangers
* Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
* Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
* Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
* Dying on the job

Quirks:
He has a particular, "friendship", with his tomahawk. Turns out when it's just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It's not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?

History:
Freedom.

That's what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn't know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He'd found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.

Until the Power Rangers.

At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he'd be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec's higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he'd managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all "work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work".

That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
* Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
* Animalistic instincts & reflexes
* Can see multiple approaches to a problem
* Agile on his feet
* A linear understanding of science
* Apparently quite the singer

Hindrances:
* His perpetual mood swings
* He always sees the good in people
* Can sometimes be quick to judge
* Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
* His hate for labelling people as the "runt" or "weakest link/member" can sometimes lead to him overestimating people

Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
* An old mining torch
* A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
* 10 shirts
* 4 pairs of jeans
* A pair of combat boots
* A pair of old sneakers
* An old scarf
* A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
* 7 bottles of water
* A sleeping bag
* 9 MRE kits

Quotes:
"Cross your fingers."
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they've been unknowingly clamped into.

[User]
"Oh... you really have studied up on us if you know I don't eat galatec food." Remarked Tommy, who did not need to be told twice to eat. In fact, he was so hungry that he ate the entire snack bar in record time, and drank half of the water bottle. Almost dying tends to make one hungry... as does undernourishment. After having scarfed down the food, he finally registered that Oliver had spoken to him as well. He was quickly distracted as well though, so that was fortunate. "Nonsense buddy, we both know you'd have likely died there... and I don't like seeing friends die!" He said, giving Oliver a big smile.

Watching videos of aliens getting dissected alive was a bit of a downer. However, it was soon contrasted by the glory of various power ranger teams! Those warriors sure seemed powerful and colorful. Tommy liked colorful, nothing more boring than monochromatic surroundings. Perhaps he would be able to decorate this place once they had all officially joined up...

However, once Jonah spoke, he quickly lost some of his demeanor. There was one thing that Tommy could not simply dismiss with a jolly attitude. "Well... you're right about one thing stoic analytical guy, we can't go back. Personally I don't particularly care, I can be happy wherever I am! But that leaves the question, what about our loved ones? We all know Galatec will come looking for them eventually."

Tommy fumbled around with a little metal dinosaur he had in his belt. Perhaps with a bit of the oranium he could create a mechanism that would make the eyes glow... and perhaps thinking of this would distract him from the possibility that his family might very well die...

[Assistant]
"-the assistant director of payroll in Dumas." Blah blah blah would Gajoon ever realize that he was just rambling incoherently? Didn't he realize there was something so much more interesting at the door? Mable reached out and opened it, revealing...

A Githkin. The mass produced cloned soldiers of Galatec and the corporation's most loyal. The githkin simply stood there, not moving, not saying anything. It did not make demands, it did not menace, it did not even look at her. It simply... Stood in place. And that's when Mable noticed the creature was holding something. A small book and a pen.

The android's new directive was easily completed. Jo'ones, while a tenacious one, was using all his strength just to stay alive. Such was the power of Galatec's greatest robotic soldier.

The foreman could barely move as Drax transported him back to the control room. Once he returned, Drax could see that Ruth was hard at work (or rather, had the control room operatives hard at work) observing a Galatec operative in her room.

Just then the door opened up, revealing two githkin. One was your standard run of the mill, serial number 27-B. The second however was an elite githkin. It wore a sash across its chest and had a scar on its face. Serial number XJ-47.

"Madame Ruthalia," it spoke through a mouthless face. "We have a report for you as requested. Two humans disappeared in front of our eyes in a flash of light. Name designations Oliver Johnson and Tommy Reese."

The young woman took the pistol back from Michael. She demonstrated its use and explained to him, quickly. They didn't have time to deal with all the details after all, but she showed him the safety, the trigger, and the reload mechanism.

"It's got twelve shots, and I've only got one reload magazine for you," she commented, handing back the gun plus some extra bullets. "So make. Them. Count. Don't shoot unless you have to, Mike."

She eyed his mining equipment, the message pretty clear. "Now let's go kick alien butt!" She cried out. The surrounding men and women cheered. The first wave, including Michael, shoved their way onto the freight elevator. Slowly they began the climb upward. Truly there would be no turning back now.

[User]
Michael Sonnen

Quicker than most, Michael got the basics of his arm down. He held it in his hand and made sure, at least twice, that the safety was off. He touched his scar out of several emotions, none more than fear. However, beyond that menacing trepidation was a powerful need for vengeance. It felt both overwhelming and necessary.

Among the other soldiers, if he could call them that, Michael positioned himself near the only person he had spoken to. He had twelve shots to play with and another to replace the first should he run out. On the fringes of his mind, he realized he was still carrying his pickaxe. Should I run out of ammunition, I always have this to rely on.

He held tight to it as the rusted elevator hummed upward, creaking and scraping with age. Michael couldn't put his finger on why he had blindingly charged into the fray with this band of strangers. All he could imagine, all he could think it might be; was his torturous guilt over Courtney's death.

I couldn't show you in life, Courtney... The cancer that Galatec is. So maybe in death, if you're watching and not rotting in the ground... maybe you can see through my eyes, the evil thats in theirs.

Outwardly he heaved. Outwardly his muscles tensed and his palms became moist with sweat. On the inside, he felt how he looked on the out. Full of adrenaline.

[Assistant]
Jackson listened closely as the girls introduced themselves, recalling how great Galatec was to get them such a good job where they could stick together. Boy, Galatec was just great!

"Nice to meet you! I'm Jackson, and I'll be your driller for this evening," he chuckled, gesturing to the drill behind him. He took another bite of his sandwich, rubbing his hands on his pants as the musty air almost circled around him, drawn away from the dim lights and clinging to his clothes, though the man was completely oblivious to it. Such was the naivety of a brainwashed worker like him, looking at the aliens around him and seeing them as companions, rather than what would come to be his worst enemy.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
The walk was long, but she didn't complain. Saeril's biology was beyond that of humans and dwarves, so moving by foot was no problem. Not a single ache came for her feet, but she was pretty certain that the ponies can't walk forever, which also became one of the reasons they had to stop and camp for the following night. That night, Saeril let her cloak transform into her feathered wings, tucked in behind her as she sat with her godsons near the fire. Only being dressed in her black, tight, catsuit-like outfit with feathers embedded in the fabric, Saeril wasn't cold, and she certainly wasn't tired; not with her godsons still awake; she could stay awake for the longest of periods.

Saeril was enjoying the company of her new family, and she certainly felt herself grow close to the young heir. She hoped that Fili didn't mind, but of course, the she-elf will accept them both, and she would have to. Good laughs they had, good stories to tell. It was purely familial. Saeril was about to reach behind her waist for one of her curved blades to sharpen it, but froze once a loud shriek sounded in the distance. It can't be, can it?

[Assistant]
Bilbo should have counted himself fortunate that there had been an extra pony for him. The company had traveled long and far, with little to no breaks in-between. When it was announced by Thorin that they would stop for the night, he breathed a sigh of relief. After they'd eaten, everyone turned in for the night, but he could not sleep. Life on the road was so unlike what he was used to, and he found himself visiting his pony as a result of insomnia. "Hello, girl. That's a good girl." Bilbo offered her an apple, then pet a hand through her chestnut mane. "It's our little secret, Myrtle; you must tell no one."

Kili was wide awake as well, and he was enjoying the company of both his brother and Saeril. The fire kept them comfortably warm, and he took notice of their burglar in the distance. "Suppose he'll want to keep her, once the journey is done," he remarked with some amusement, but then some terrible, unearthly shrieks could be heard from parts unknown.

Bilbo nearly jumped out of his skin, and he looked back to see if the others had heard it too. "What was that?!" So terrified was he that he abandoned Myrtle to regroup with the others, his eyes wide with fear.

Kili was frightened himself, though seeing Bilbo so pale brought out his mischievous side. This was also an opportunity to bring some amusement to his godmother and Fili; he had the tendency to show off when he could. "Orcs," he answered lowly, and that one word was enough to wake Thorin, who had been dozing on the opposite side of the camp.

Bilbo ran a hand through his curly hair, frazzled as ever. "Orcs?" For the hundredth time that day, he regretted his choice to come. The creatures sounded positively awful; he did not wish to witness what came along with the scream.

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep." Kili was fighting to keep a straight face; he knew this was a bit cruel, but Bilbo was such an easy target. "Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood." Once Bilbo's back was to them, he lost the mask of graveness and instead laughed with his brother.

Thorin approached the four, his disgust evident. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Kili looked to his uncle with a bit of surprise; he hadn't known him to be listening. "We didn't mean anything by it," he protested quietly, his heart sinking. Losing Thorin's approval was a terrible feeling; one he'd felt more and more as of late. Why could he not seem to impress him?

"No, you didn't." Thorin turned his back on them, then moved to overlook the valley below. "You know nothing of the world."

Kili fell quiet after that, for he had no way to defend himself nor to argue. It was true, after all. He knew nothing, and he'd only succeeded in showing how young and naive he really was. To hear his uncle so obviously disgusted was crushing, and he dropped his gaze, too embarrassed to look at his godmother or Fili right now. No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed to gain Thorin's approval, and it was a constant source of low self-esteem. Thorin's words were often taken to heart. Perhaps too much.

[User]
"Throat cutters", Fili confirmed from next to his baby brother, taking his smoking pipe out of his mouth as he spoke. He knew where his brother was getting at, and it amused him to how much he liked to play around. The eldest was just an accomplice, and he was often prompted by Kili to take part in his ventures within the Blue Mountains. Not that he agreed with them, but he just simply just can't refuse. "They'll be dozens of them out there", he only did this, just to stay on his side of the game.

Admittedly, Saeril wasn't at all impressed, and it was apparent to the dissaproving look coming upon her Elven features. She was looking at the young dwarrows before her, and eyes expressed a piercing gaze that can only summon intimidation to those before her. Her face was still soft, not completely dark.

"If you're thinking on amusing me, it's not working", the she-elf informed the youngest. However, her facials softened when she heard Thorin approach them with spite in his voice towards his nephews. Saeril turned her head towards his direction, her straight, ashy-brown hair following her movements.

She couldn't believe what she saw; it wasn't what she expected either. She knew that teasing Bilbo wasn't funny, but with a family telling you that you know nothing about the world you live in, it was a bit overly harsh. It was true that Kili was both childishly young and naive, but to lower his self-esteem by said-comments weren't acceptable. Especially if you are an heir. Seeing that the youngest was the one being mostly affected, the female gently placed a comforting hand on Kili's arm, soothing him.

[Assistant]
Not only had Kili angered Thorin, but he feared that he may have disappointed his godmother as well. The youngest heir hadn't meant to be cruel; he'd only wished to have some fun, and that had proven a mistake. He knew of orcs, yes, but he'd yet to see one. To joke about them hadn't bothered his conscious any, and to make matters worse, he'd gotten Fili in trouble, too. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

Inwardly, he chastised himself. Thorin would never see potential in him if he acted as a child would. If only he had a way to prove himself useful to their group; perhaps then they would see him in a new light. Kili never felt inadequate around Fili, his brother was often very supportive, but their uncle was another story. What he failed to realize was that Thorin did care about them, but he didn't often show it as much as he should have.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Kili stared intently into the fire, determined not to make the same mistake twice. When he felt a hand make contact with his arm, he looked to Saeril with some reluctance, as if he expected her to scold him too. When he saw her expression, he was relieved to find that she did not seem angry.

Balin had overheard the entire exchange, and he knew Thorin's words had been harsh, though they came from a source of pain. "Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." The white haired dwarf looked towards their leader, and he could not help but pity him. Thorin had lost much that day -- his grandfather, and his brother, years younger than Kili was now. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

Bilbo listened intently as Balin told the story regarding the Battle of Azanulbizar; never in his life had he heard a tale of such a war, and it amazed him, yet made him realize how very fortunate he was to have lived his days safe in The Shire.

Kili listened too, and he now understood more from his uncle's point of view. Thorin had fought the orcs; they had lost many dwarves due to them, and for him to joke about such a thing had been insensitive. While Kili felt badly, he was also amazed by Thorin's bravery and skill in combat. Even without a weapon, Thorin had prevailed, just long enough to defeat the pale orc.

"But the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo found it within himself to speak up, albeit meekly. The rest of the group was awake by now, for they had overheard the story, and it was not one to be missed.

Thorin turned away from the clearing, his mind in a dark place. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago." The words were bitter, and he brushed past the hobbit in order to return to his place of sleep. The day had been a long one, and he wished not to speak on past battles any further. "Get some sleep. All of you. There are few hours from now till dawn."

[User]
"The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief, he went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc.He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day, that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied, and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast, nor song that night for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few, had survived."

Saeril has heard the story many times during her time in Gandalf's care, and the more she listened to the past, the more it began to catch up with her, and it was expressed with a twitch on her lips a little bit, just until the tale began to leave her ears. She knew what happened; she was there, and she herself sent the defiling Orc there. What was there to say now? "I was there", she spoke up in a soft voice.

"Azog was fierce. Sadistic and vicious of any creature I have ever seen", the she-elf began. "I witnessed his strike upon the king, and if Thorin hadn't tried, you all would not be here now. His victory gave him greatness, but it left a stone heart inside", she concluded before sheathing out one of her curves daggers from the back of her waist, examining the metal upon the blade with a grim expression.

[Assistant]
"You were there?" Kili was astonished -- he could not find it within himself to envision his godmother on the battlefield. She was no doubt capable of handling herself, but the image remained difficult nonetheless. "Were you fighting too?" This was the side of her that he had not yet seen, and he showed great interest in hearing her version of the story.

As Thorin had told everyone to get some sleep, Kili inwardly sighed, though he did move to lie down in order to follow orders. "Thorin never mentioned you being there -- how did you find it? The battle, I mean. Did you come to help?" As best he could, he kept his voice down, but he did not believe it possible to sleep until he heard the story in its entirety.


[System]
Age: 32

Appearance:
Height: 6'1"

Weight: 185 lbs

Likes:
+Caffeine
+Reading
+Conspiracy Theories
+Working-Out
+Talk Radio
+Cars/Trucks/Vehicles/etc.

Dislikes:
-Seafood
-Sports
-Cold Weather
-Bad Grammar
-Authority
-Disorganization

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Special Talent: Legendary Alcohol Tolerance

Profession: Mechanic/Owner Apex Designs, a small, single-door garage, tucked away on the industrial Southside end of town with enough room for about three cars inside.

Bio/Personality:
Joel is a man who views himself as someone not necessarily doing what they want to do in life, but doing what they're good at. He enjoys repairing the automotive woes of many of Sol City's wealthy clientele. However, even though his work is considered some of the best in the city, he's often equally known for his lengthy vacations and costly invoices. Additionally armed with a business degree that he earned off of an only briefly offered scholarship in his youth, he very carefully balances work, play and sometimes outright laziness. He keeps no set schedule and can be found in his shop sometimes at the most bizarre of hours.

Outwardly, Joel has a very arrogant aura that often turns off others. He's been told that he's "unapproachable" and though he likes the thought of being intimidating, sometimes he does feel a genuine desire to have deeper conversations. He enjoys flirting and being in some social venues, but often feels bored and out of place. He doesn't consider himself extroverted. Interestingly, he tends to talk non-stop while working on vehicles and has his own crowd of conversational regulars, often the bored and retired older men of the city, that stop by just to see what he's working on.

Joel is very aware of his eccentricities and has a warped sense of justice. He enjoys watching people that may have wronged him or refused his advice "get what they deserve" to the point of comedy. He likes that some may look down on him for his chosen profession, but at the same time wishes he was doing something else. He's never satisfied for very long.

Favorite Song:

Tell us about yourself:

Age: 32
What part of the world are you from?: VA, USA
How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: Around 17
How often do you have time to post?: Usually 2-3 times per week, maybe more depending on my work schedule/other things.
Anything else you want to mention?:
I actually work a pretty cool job, but it does demand a lot of time out of me sometimes. I'm married and have three kids. Roleplay/Writing is one of my few surviving hobbies in adulthood next to working out and reading a book occasionally. I usually only have time to write one game at a time here on the Guild so this is it for now. I'm going to my level best to make sure its a winner. I try to take care of my players, so if you're reading this and thinking about joining, we'll be glad to have you.

[User]
Paige Kennedy

The reaction Paige anticipated looking for she oddly enough found in herself. She could believe Milo's tone when he said he still had the same photo and had not gotten rid of it after all this time. Her ears were trained for lie detection and she knew him well enough to tell when he was lying or holding back. It was her first reaction though... When he spoke the words and happily chuckled, she felt relieved, but couldn't explain exactly why to her own mind. He seemed nearly nonchalant about it. A strange departure from his interrogative attitude about Ana at the Winter Party and almost the same as when she arrived at his place to dispatch Jackie. Even if he had the same photo, she didn't expect him to be quite so at ease. Intrigued, she accepted the picture back from him and leaned back crossing her legs and resting one arm lightly on the seatback. "We sure did win," She stated matter-of-factly with a grin. "And yeah, I think you won the party after too- first place drunk."

The thought of it jogging in her memory view was turning her grin into a full-on smile and combined with the progress they'd made against the sake, she was loosening up. A solid, near non-stop week of heavy investigative work was wearing away like a detox out of her veins. When he brought up his poor car, left on blocks in that parking lot, she laughed heartily, "Was that one of those times you felt like you needed to defend my honor?" She laughed. In her head, she replayed that night as well, though not with completely vivid recollection. She had a few drinks herself and could not exactly recall what started the battle or if they even had anything to do with it. "I think we won the fight though," She said. "I remember that one guy," She continued, "I don't think he'd ever been hit by a woman... That was right before you slugged him blindside, you fight dirty." She said with mock accusation pointing her finger. She refilled the sake cups again. The thought of taking Monday off was becoming firmly more entrenched in her plans. She knew getting the time wouldn't be a problem, particularly after the returns the last twenty-four hours brought.

[Assistant]
Milo Ventri

---

---

 Milo laughed as she mentioned him as the first place drunk, he had put down more than his fair share to be sure, but they had a ton of fun that day, "And the crowd went wild." he chuckled out as he recalled the drunken haze they had all awoken to the next day. Milo recalled the fight, and tried to think of the reason he had actually punched the guy, "Honestly, either I was trying to defend your honor, or, I was really tired of listening to you guys try to tell him to fuck off kindly." Milo took a bite of his food, the sushi was fresh and was really quite good, he was glad he decided on this place. Milo could still remember the fight was his fault, he had definitely thrown the first punch, but she was right, the three of them won pretty handily against those barflies. "I don't fight dirty, I just fight not to lose." Milo chuckled, as much as he liked his sword fighting, he actually disliked fist fighting, and always fought to end it quick and without him being hurt as much as possible.

 Milo poured the last of the sake into his cup and downed it. Milo leaned back into the chair and sighed, "I miss Delta some days, other days, I wouldn't trade what I have seen and done for anything." While this wasn't necessarily true, Milo had had too many drinks and not enough blood to know. "I have seen more of the country than I thought I ever would, met a ton of people, and learned a lot of skills. Leaving everything behind, it was hard, but I don't think I could have grown with out having done so. Trials and tribulations and whatnot." Milo smiled, his face already showing that he was a bit tipsy. "I'm sure you have had your share of good times since leaving right?"