[System]
Appearance:
Standing at 5'9'', Kurt is of average height. Initially he seems to have a slim build, but hidden beneath his clothes is a heavily toned body, formed from his years of hard labor. Kurt's skin is very pale, a side effect of spending many years in the darkness of space. Kurt keeps his haircut simple, as he cuts himself, with his brown hair going down to his ears. Kurt's eyes are the blue color of the oceans of Earth, a sight he has never seen in person. His body is also marked with cuts and bruises from the rough life he has lived.
Kurt has no sense of style as his financial situation has never allowed for frivolous spending. So he wears basic t-shirts, jeans, and a jacket, or whatever else the pirates provide. If given the choice between colorful and white, black, or grey clothes, Kurt will almost always go with the darker clothing.

Age:
17

Background:
Born on Phobos, one of the moons of Mars, the only parent Kurt was aware of having was a mother. What he has been told is that she worked in a brothel and had no clue who his father was. Kurt's mother would only to handle being a mother for a few months before she abandoned Kurt. Left at a local church, Kurt would then be put into the broken child service system. Kurt would then be shipped down to Mars itself, where he would be placed in an overcrowded orphanage. It was in these early formative years that Kurt learned that he had to fight for everything.
The conditions in the orphanage were bad, with the owner only doing it for the government support checks. Kurt would frequently get into trouble, often getting physically abused as a punishment. Eventually Kurt and two other orphans had enough and planned to escape the orphanage and make their way to Jupiter. And then one night, after weeks of planning, the trio slipped away from the orphanage and headed to the big city.
Upon reaching the city, one of the orphans chickened out and decided to remain on Mars. Kurt and his friend Alto went ahead without him. As they didn't have much money, Kurt and Alto signed up for a job mining the Asteroid Belt that divided Mars and Jupiter. The company involved had some very loose regulations, hiring the pair even though they were clearly minors. So Kurt became an employee of the company, taking the surname Bauer for any official documents.
Kurt and Alto were taken to Asteroid GL-2814, where they began training with mobile workers in order to mine the rock. Kurt and Alto would do this for about a year, never making enough money to move on to Jupiter. Kurt would begin to get angry with the mining company. This was only increased when Alto died in a work accident, with the company clearly being at fault.
Without his one friend, Kurt went into a depressive state, the only thing keeping him going was the thought of leaving the asteroid. He would get a chance when the mining operation was raided by pirates, stealing the metals that had been mined and seizing their mining equipment. The captain of the pirate decided to capture most of the mobile worker pilots, turning them into human debris.
Life was just as hard for Kurt as human debris as it had been a misused miner. He was tapped to become a mobile suit pilot, requiring him to get the Alaya Vijinana System surgery. While he survived it, it did leave him with recurrent pain in his back. Once he was able to prove himself as a pilot for the pirates, he was sent to serve aboard the Merculiar Witch.

Personality and Reputation:
Kurt projects an aura of gentleness, never being a hard person to be around. As such he is well like among the human debris, and even other members of the crew. He is known for being of much help with machines given his background in asteroid mining. As such he is considered a key part of the crew. But this is an image that Kurt consciously constructs, as he always wants to appear of use. Beneath his kind eyes is a simmering rage, one focused at everyone to have ever wronged him.
Kurt is convinced that conflict is at the center of all life. One must always stake their claim, or show themselves of use to someone stronger than them. Because of this view, Kurt is always trying to become more skilled, more stronger. His greatest fear would be to become a liability to those around him. Not being able to hold his own would be the worst thing in Kurt's mind.

Mobile Suit:
Modified EB-06 Graze

Name:
Graze Cosmo

Frame:
Graze Frame

Appearance:

Equipment:
* Alaya Vijinana System (Added in repairs to the Graze)
* Head Sphere Sensor
* Booster Unit (for space use)
* GR-W01 120mm Rifle (standard, short range weapon)
* GR-H01 9.8m Battle Axe (standard, close range weapon)
* GR-E01 8.8m Shield (standard, heat resistant shield)

Mobile Suit:
ASW-G-34 Furfur

Name:
Gundam Furfur

Frame:
ASW-G-34 Furfur Frame

Appearance:

Equipment:
* Alaya Vijinana System
* Ahab Thrusters (back and waist)
* Thermal Phase Transition Thrusters
* Battle Zweihander (Large, two handed, blade weapon)
* Head Mounted Vulcan Gun (Small round, short range weapon)

[User]
"What?" Holly barked shrilly as Martyn tried to give orders. The odds seemed stacked in their favor, and she wasn't worried, but if he kept taking charge like this he was going to sow confusion in their own ranks.

"Fine, but Ku- er, Familiar Three. Break off, destroy that boosters pod," she tapped her display, her hand moving nimbly so that it only left the controls for a bare moment. "That's prolly how he got out here all by his lonesome. Don't let him leave with it."

Fox, crazy as his namesake, was already following Martyn's orders, and dove into the weeds, breaking their contact briefly. Holly wasn't super concerned. He usually followed the spirit of his orders more than anything, and wasn't one to be micromanaged in the first place.

As they moved in, the fancy yellow Graze kicked off the lip of the hold in the wreck's hull, and boosted backwards. It moved in a serpentine pattern, dodging the bulk of bullets sprayed haphazardly in its direction, all the while clinging close to the decrepit Gjallarhorn ship. It raised a gun(it looked like an updated version of the 120 that her Graze piloting comrades used), and sprayed back as it retreated astern of the great wreck.

The Big Boi moved in with the rest of the pirates. Holly just barely got the idea that the Schwalbe's creepy sensor orb was focused on her when it corrected its wild fire. She finally heard the shots(silent in the void until they hit you), but she could only laugh. At this range, most of their ballistic weapons were little more a nuisance.

Holly set her LCS comm to an open channel and taunted. "You're all alone out here, rich boy! Come quiet and we might - Agh!"

There was a distinct popping sound, reverberating through the mobile suit from somewhere above the cockpit, and all of her visual feed went blank. Her comrades on the outside, however, could see as a very lucky(or perhaps incredibly skillful) shot pierced the head of Big Boi in the crack where the nanolaminate had been chipped away.

Holly was knocked off course, and felt herself hit something big(the side of the old ship, she realized). She tumbled along it briefly, but managed to catch onto part of it with her mobile suit's arm, a move that would be impossible without the spacial awareness granted by the AVS.

She cursed violent, but tested to ensure her comms were still up.

"Forget me, go get him. Martyn, I guess you're im charge after all."

[Assistant]
"Thanks!" Martyn said as his Man Rodi began to shoot at the Graze Scwalbe's legs, still hoping for a nonfatal hit. He then continued to say over the comms, "Keep hammering at him and make sure that he does not reach his booster pod! In fact, blow the latter up if the guy doesn't surrender!"

The Graze Schwalbe's pilot was clearly skilled enough to avoid his shots and the maneuvers of his - Well technically Holly's - team. As it fired back at the foes ringing it, Martyn moved a little closer, earning a jab by the Graze's lance. As he pulled his Man Rodi back, the young man, barely out of boyhood, glanced at what his team was doing, before shouting through the comms, "Familiar Three - Kurt - Do what Holly said and destroy that pod! Familiar Five, fire your anchor wire when ready; we'll try and herd the enemy to your position."

He then pushed his Man Rodi forward again, before telling Familiar Two, aka Theo, "You're right, I am thinking of myself. But if I'm right, all of us can get what we want as well. So follow me, Soldier; I haven't led you wrong, have I?"

Martyn was banking on the fact that he had known Theo for years, and observed him and the others for that long, to try and get Theo's agreement to follow his orders.

The Graze Schwalbe, somehow sensing Theo's indecision, was now rushing at the latter's Graze, trying to impale it with his lance. To him, Theo was the weak link in the ring of foes, a weak link to be broken and shattered. Martyn, seeing this as well, threw caution to the wind and rushed at the Schwalbe, before shouting to Fox, "Fox, Fire your wire anchor now! Hit the Graze Schwalbe!"

Hopefully, it would all go perfectly. Hopefully, the Graze Schwalbe and its pilot would be captured or at worst, the latter might be killed. But Martyn had made his calculations; he can and will apply for amnesty whatever happened, even if the process for applying for amnesty meant accepting the prospect of being watched and thus not being able to implement his plans...

[User]
From his place in the dead of space, amongst his comrades and the wreckage of rocks and ships, Thom watched with cold interest. Fox's wild maneuver was met with a skillful offset, he eyed the enemy's Graze with renewed purpose. He's experienced. Good enough to hold his composure against bad odds, he determined, hands gripping the controls. This is all falling apart because of Martyn's impulsiveness.

Then Martyn's words tore through him like a punch from Bosun. It was invasive and tasteless but it brought him back to reality. Reminded him that as member of the Mercurial Witch's mobile suit team; results were demanded. It pushed out the remainder of his doubt, the scorch of battle sharpening his focus.

In a sudden burst, Thom drove the Graze-Z towards the enemy Graze. His shield which had been in a ready position was brought closer to his chest, just enough to anticipate the aim of the lance. Thom exhaled the tension building inside as the distance closed. He eased on his boosters, knowing impact at that speed would harm him just as bad as a direct hit. Martyn was closing in too, trying to play the hero as always, risking everyone's life for his own goals. It was infuriating.

Time collapsed on itself for Thom as the yellow Graze reached him with its lance. CLANG!!!

Thom swatted aside the lance with his shield, a hole tearing through the slab of metal and its wielding-arm. Without skipping a beat, his Graze-Z raised its axe and aimed to decapitate the enemy Graze's lance-arm. The screech of metal reverberated through his machine as the arm was chopped off. But he found dread filling his chest as he peered through his screen. The pilot of the yellow Graze was hardened, his rifle raising to open fire on Thom's cockpit.

"Come on!" he grumbled. "Don't let me die!"

[Assistant]
Kurt held the controls of his Graze as steadily as possible as he lined up the shot on the Gjallarhorn mobile suit. While the teenager was waiting for the order to fire, Fox in his Hugo sped past him, firing his rifle. Kurt knew that at this distance those shots would do very little damage but he could see them as warning shots.

As Fox took up a position in some debris, Holly ordered Kurt to take out the enemy Graze's booster pods. As this was the logical thing to do, Kurt had no problem with the order. Pumping his thrusters, Kurt launched his Graze toward the enemy mobile suit. Raising his rifle, Kurt adjusted its aim, trying to hone in on the Graze Schwalbe's boosters.

Hoping that the Schwalbe wouldn't notice him, Kurt hid his Graze between a particularly large piece of debris. Holly then taunted the Schwalbe pilot over an open channel, only to be knocked off course by some gunfire. Martyn took the opportunity to take lead, ordering Kurt to take out the booster pods.

"I know, I know," replied Kurt over the comms system, "I just need a clear shot."

The enemy Graze then left the area, heading toward Thom. Taking advantage of this, Kurt left the safety of the debris field and went over to where the Graze Schwalbe had first been spotted. Using his own boosters, Kurt blasted toward the Gjallarhorn wreck and the booster pods that floated near it.

"Alright, here we go," muttered Kurt.

Once in range, Kurt lined his Graze's rifle at the booster pods. Letting loose with gunfire, Kurt could only watch as the projectiles barreled through the void of space. As he held his breath, Kurt saw the bullets hit their mark, ripping into one of the pods. Breathing out strongly, Kurt was pretty sure that he had accomplished his mission.

But over his comms he heard Thom say to not let him die. Without thinking, Kurt whipped his Graze around, pointing back at the battle. His stomach felt like it dropped at the prospect of losing another comrade. While he wouldn't say he was friends with Thom, he did know him enough that he didn't want him to die.

"Damn it. Hold on," shouted Kurt over the comms.

Hoping that the booster pods had been rendered unusable, Kurt boosted his Graze back over to the battle. Seeing the Graze Schwalbe right in front of Thom's Graze-Z, Kurt pushed his mobile suit to the max. He had precious few seconds to get into firing range of the yellow mobile suit, knowing that if he fired now his shots would do nothing.


[System]
Age: 30

Sex: Male

Appearance: 6'2" with black hair and blue eyes. White skinned. Noticeable facial hair at the chin and finely trimmed. Sporting a more Westerly appearance with a short and thin leather duster coat, white button-up shirt with a popped-out collar and a loose scarf-like tie, dark faded blue jeans, and boots.

"Shh, I'm focusing...And trying to look intimidating."

Like many of the Societas Academia, Travis has a very good understanding how magic functions and how certain spells are performed. Being an Untalent however, much of what he has learned is unfortunately outside of his realm of implementation and only gets by with the bare basics of each aspect. But to him, this is perfectly fine; the spells Travis can produce by himself are considered useful survival tools in order to help him get by.

His real prowess is through the deciphered tomes and runes recovered throughout his journeys, capable of extending his abilities beyond his current potential. Though if anything, they too are yet another means of allowing him dissect and better understand their magical functionalities and eventually reproduce their effects in more manageable and efficient methods.

Funnily enough, given his recent and occasionally perilous encounters, Travis has been seen to be a rather surprisingly athletic runner.

"Magic is simply another form of science that is growing and evolving as we continue to discover and learn more about it."

Being an Untalent amongst a rather social community of more capable Talents can definitely be rough. Condemned to a lesser status because of one's natural inability to coordinate with magic fluidly was the fate many Untalents within the Societas Academia faced almost daily. Travis however didn't seem to be bothered by this too much. In fact, he was perhaps too busy studying and discussing theories to really care at all.

While as an Untalent and indeed had higher expectations set against him by his self-deserving peers, he enthusiastically conceptualized these endeavors as welcomed challenges in order solve rather petty societal crises to stress about. Though Travis was no ace mage and was more likely a magician as far as skills go, his main strength was his constructed knowledge base with a fierce understanding of the architecture of mana and magic implementation.

After years of hard study and grueling practice, Travis eventually achieved the rank of Aspect trainee and began the next phase of his training. Without any particular proficiency found in any particular set of spells, he would then opt-in into the Aspect of Scholar. As one would expect from his intuitive personality, Travis had felt right at home with his new position and became eager to set out for new discoveries.

What he didn't know was how cruel and horrifying the world could be outside the Societas Academia. The concept of death was something many students were well versed in, some more than others, but to experience and its many forms was something rather undesirable. Thus for Travis, now a Scholar, would soon come to know and witness this concept on more than one occasion as he pursues his quest for knowledge.

"So I spoke to an ebony dressed lady from the Cult of the Enlightened. We actually had a pleasant conversation until I asked about the concept of soul weaving. She laughed. Her fur coat cried. Suffice to say, I left in a hurry."

Despite his humble demeanor, surprisingly as an Untalent, Travis is certainly not afraid to speak his mind and express his views when necessary, sometimes comical or sarcastic if it benefits the mood. Being an easily fascinated and curious sort, he takes his role as a Scholar by heart (if not seriously) and seeks knowledge whenever he can find it; until it gets him into trouble. Nonetheless, he does show great pride and devotion to his line of work, atypical as it may be.

Travis can sometimes be described as a pacifist or "pass-the-fist" as he himself describes it. He sees no need for violence and certainly rejects the notion of killing but acknowledges the need for self-defense if he cannot negotiate his way out of a troubling confrontation. Of course said confrontations are usually created by something he may have said or done without any harmful or insulting intent.

"When the going gets tough...See to it you're not where the tough goes."

[User] Zuri looked at Felix with a smile since she made some progress with her training. "It's a little bit tiring but I got to practice my abilities without having to worry about failing since everything inside was all just make believe." She pauses for a bit, "I tried to optimize my spells a bit and practice some new ones I had in mind, it was productive and lots of fun!" Zuri looked tired but satisfied. She checks the time and notices that it's already night time. Zuri lets out a yawn as she stretches and says "I guess it's time for all of us to get some rest.."

[Assistant]
While watching his movie, Nemo was stirred from his concentration by the racket going on outside his room. He leaned to the side and grabbed the vintage looking remote control that paired to his television and paused the western. The silence allowed him to better eavesdrop on the conversation. After pulling his blanket to the side Nemo stood up with his coffee cup in hand and walked to the door. He unlocked it and peered outside, taking a sip as he looked around. By this point Raiya had ended the call and entered her room. I guess that explains Miss Grumpy. He thought before closing the door, forgoing locking it and returning back to his movie.

---

After a few moments a voice emitted from Raiya's manadial. "I presume you've already gotten most of the bad news?" The man sounded rather young, probably in his mid thirties. His voice sounded confident and condescending, with a slight accent to it. It was definitely Italian, but he had clearly worked hard to minimize it. "Well... I hate to break it to ya, but that's only the half of it amore mio." He added with a slight chuckle.

[User] Raiya gritted her teeth. "It was you wasn't it? At the pier? You either have a real huge set of balls on ya, or you've got a pretty strong death wish." A part of her knew before she answered that the call was from the man who assaulted all her men at the pier, and now also massacred everyone at her processing plant. "When my men find you, I'm going to kill you personally. Not swiftly with the stroke of my sword, but slowly over the course of a month, your bruised and broken body chained to a metal chair in a room where no magic can be cast. There are things that the Yakuza taught me that will make you beg, plead for death. Make you regret ever being squeezed out of your mother's womb. I hope you are prepared for recompense."  Raiya's voice was slowly rising throughout her diatribe, her anger was stoked from an ember to a fire.

[Assistant]
"Yeah... that was me, but that second part is odd, because that's exactly what I thought about you when I heard you skipped town and expected to still remain top dog in a city you aren't even present in. Now that my friend, is a bit bold of you. Che palle, Mamushi! Che palle! Frankly I was a bit insulted. I heard the whole incident was a bit embarrassin' too, one guy walks in and makes you bend the knee huh? How do you think that makes me feel? Certainly ain't scared." The voice paused for another brief chuckle.

"I suppose I should introduce myself though. You're probably more familiar with my cousin Vincenzo, leader of the New York branch of the Giarciano gang, second biggest gang in town. But the truth is that ole' Vin just hasn't been tough enough with ya Mamushi. That's why I'm here now, Gianni Giarciano, The Don, capo dei capi." Gianni paused for a couple moments before continuing.

"Giarciano gang been number two for too long, but that's soon to change. Let me tell you how this is gonna go amore mio, you're gonna tell your stand in back there to pack all your shit up, and take a fuckin' hike. 'Cause you're all done in this city Mamushi. Boom, it's over. Your territory, mine. Your operations, mine. See where this is going yet? Hell, if any of your boys want a job I'm fuckin' hirin' here. Otherwise you all can fuck off with your tail tucked and find a new shit-hole to run. Got it?"

Gianni suddenly added on before Raiya could get a response in. "Because let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't. What went down at the pier is just gonna be a little appetizer for what's to come. Me and my boys are gonna run a train on you junkies. Crux gang ain't got the muscle any more, especially when I have all my homeland assets in town with me as well. You're outnumbered, you aren't even here to lead your own gang, I'll squash every last one of you tattooed greaser rats until there ain't one left. And I even hope you show up yourself so I can cave your skull in myself with my bare hands like I did your buddies at the pier. You aren't the first magi I've tangled with."

"I'll give you until midnight, tomorrow, to give me an answer. Otherwise there's gonna be bodies in the street." Gianni finished after a short pause and then hung up.


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

---

Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
"Hey hey!" Dahlia greeted as Quinn walked through the door. She stood stirring a ladle over a slow-cooker. Savory smells filled the dorm—chunks of tender beef soaking in a thick, aromatic bone-broth stock. Spices drifted in the air that, even after a month were still foreign to a nose like Quinn's, all of which Dahlia was careful to lay out and show her whenever she asked. "I asked Besca to prep stew for tonight, just finishing it up now! She ought be here in a few minutes."

Quinn threw herself down into her blue chair, and Dahlia set out a few glasses on the counter. She was glad she'd changed the channel beforehand—it likely would have been weird for Quinn to hear strangers from other countries, or even just other cities, talking about her so animatedly.

And, as if to prove her own point: "Some people were listening to the communications from the end of the duel. Did I really sound like that?"

It wasn't the first time comms had been leaked, and it was no more surprising. Often the Board would arrange for certain snippets to land in the laps of favored news organizations now and then, if they felt it would lead to good press. With the storm Quinn's stunt had set in motion, they were likely trying to get ahead while they could.

"It was pretty tense. You can get loud when you want to," she giggled. "That's not a bad thing. It's good, you know, that you stick up for yourself. Even to Besca."

Setting the lid on the cooker down, Dahlia came over and threw herself onto the couch. "Besides, for a first leak, I thought it was cool. You know what mine was? They got me on the lift riding up to connect for the first time—ohmygosh, you could hear my teeth chattering—and I asked Besca where the bathroom was in the cockpit." Her ears went red, she rubbed her hands over her face. "Ughgod, it still comes up sometimes. I'll show up somewhere for an interview and they'll make sure they put me near a restroom. Kill me. At least this is something you can be, like, proud of."

[Assistant]
Dahlia always knew how to make Quinn feel better. Her trepidation at the the oddness of it all, people listening to her without her being there, faded away. Dahlia had dealt with this for years. If she ever had a hard time, she could just ask her sister, right? And it was nice to know that having communications leaked wasn't a new thing, wasn't strange. She'd had enough of 'strange' for a little while.

And as Dahlia discussed her first leak, Quinn felt an unfamiliar sensation welling up within her, starting in her stomach and spreading upward like bubbles. Something she'd felt before, but not for a long time. For a moment she didn't really understand what it was, and it dimmed within her. But it came back once Dahlia finished speaking, rushing up like soda poured too quickly and overflowing before she could even hope to check it.

And Quinn burst out laughing.

Not the weak chuckle she'd given two weeks ago, when Dahlia had knocked her on her ass just by stepping back when they were sparring, and certainly not the death's-head laugh from the war room a week ago. No, this was a full-throated laugh born from genuine happiness and the release of a terrible tension, and it filled the room suddenly and unexpectedly.

She slapped her hand over her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop the giggles that leaked out from between her fingers even still. If there was one word to describe her expression, it was taken aback. But in a good way. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. And though the guilt bit at her heels still and a part of her knew that it always would, her sister didn't hate her, was there, and always would be. So Quinn was...

Happy.

She was really, really happy.


[System]
Clan: Shima Clan, originally of the Ueno clan

Title: The Shima Knight

Gender: Male

Age: 16

Race: Neko(mimi)

Height: 5'8" (176cm)

Weight: 146 lbs

Appearance:

Occupation: Lord's Guard, painter (albeit not very good).

Notable Skills: Having studied swordsmanship from both within Baji and abroad, Tetsuya has command of a few different styles of swordplay. His most readily used, as indicated by his typical garb, is that of a "knight". He employs both a longsword and a shield in battle effectively, and can use the latter even as a weapon if need be. Likewise he is able to wield a katana if need be, but to far lesser success than with a longsword.

Magical Abilities: Tetsuya has the ability to use his magic as another shield as well, forming a slight barrier around himself. Using this renders him immobile however and does not provide a complete 360 degrees of protection; flanking him is the best way around this.

Familiars: N/A

Ki Techniques/powers:
Push; Using his shield, Tetsuya can make an extension of himself and, while pushing his shield forward, creates a small force to knock away anything in front of him. Used namely to put distance between himself and the enemy when he needs to catch his breath. Not very useful on larger enemies or anyone who's strong enough to withstand the hit.

Weapons: Steel Longsword, Steel kite shield

Other Gear:
- Water pouch
- Small pack, containing a bit of bandages, some herbs to help relieve pain and a broken compass -- a memento of his parents.

Personality: Tetsuya is a soft-spoken boy, when he rarely does speak. He is perceptive, and while he may not voice his opinion on something he watches what is around him diligently. Above all else he is loyal to the Shima Lord, and does not take slights to the man kindly. Determined to fulfill his Lord's wish to protect Shima, perhaps to a fault, he is unwavering in his position to do what is best for his clan. In most things he views the world as black and white; good and evil. His ideology of the world living in peace pushes him ironically to fight, and he argues that the only way to achieve everlasting peace is to put aggressors in their place. In some views an ideal guard, he is not without faults.

Tetsuya's black and white view of the world leads to naivete, and he can be a bit brash in acting. While he is well versed in swordplay he's never bothered to learn much else, leaving him a bit clueless in some other respects. In a way, being a guard is all he knows. He also has a slight discontent towards more modern weapons, thinking they are a cowardly, inhumane way of taking a life. If one is to take a life in war then it should be personal, not from dozens or hundreds of feet away.

Brief history: Tetsuya is the son of a Neko fisherman and a human woman. His mother, a resident of Shima, would meet his father Umenka during a routine trading in the city; Hidori worked for a trading company, helping to maintain catalogs and keep track of inventory. The two eventually hit it off and, inevitably, Hidori would become pregnant. During her pregnancy she was brought back to Umenka's place of birth, and in the village Tetsuya would be born.

For the first few years of his life the family remained in Umenka's village, with Hidori picking up the same profession only for a Neko trading company. Their settlement, consisting of nekos and humans alike, proved to be an excellent raising ground for their young child. Being a Nekomimi may well have seen Tetsuya be made fun of quite a lot elsewhere, but here he was accepted. In lieu of everything working well for the family they would eventually move, as the company in which Umenka was employed wanted to open a foreign post, and they meant to send the family there to help.

Almost immediately upon arriving and settling down, Tetsuya and his parents noticed an immediate change of atmosphere. Whereas the Neko homeland was relatively untouched by war this place reeked of it, with soldiers passing through and the occasional news of a battle breaking out being commonplace. Fearing for their child's safety the two deliberated upon sending him away, wishing to send him somewhere to be free from the threat of war. With very few possibilities they near gave up, until a trader from Shima passed through and learned of their pleas. Seeing their only chance, Umenka and Hidori begged the man to take their son, and with a bit of convincing he finally relented.

Tetsuya had little knowledge of anything going to Shima, having never been taught any kind of trade or receiving a real education. He could write, read, knew some basics, but that was about it. Seeing the difficulty in assigning the boy to any real job the trader offered him over to the Lord's men, suggesting they train him as a guard. Even at a young age, now seven years old, he could appreciate what was going on around him. Having little personal say in the matter he was brought off to train, eventually learning the way of the sword from the Lord's guard. Through the years he worked to refine and personalize his training, and today he's become a perfectly capable, if somewhat inexperienced guard.

Other:  Learned some magic from other Neko, but not very well versed in it at all.

[User]
After a rough start Gin was starting to feel rather enthusiastic about his journey away from the village and his quest to get the lost artefacts, but as the air of excitement began to change into anticipation he was quick to remember where he kept his sword just incase. He wanted to help and by being up front seemed better than being behind if there was a threat up ahead. Sure enough there was a threat as the guide soon revealed and sure enough as they wandered further down the path there was the threat standing ahead. It was a woman with some strange but threatening bodyguards, that much he could tell.

Keeping his hand close to his sword he stopped and stared at the people, feeling rather unsure to how he was supposed to handle these people. He didn't know how they fought or whether they knew each other and was waiting for them to arrive, but either way they were a problem and they had to get around them. He did wonder if they were strong enough to fight these guys and this woman off while protecting someone who appeared unarmed. Moving forward he gasped when Yuudai moved forward, his eyes staring up at her as she demanded answers from them. She was intimidating by herself and seeing her like that made him feel rather small and insignificant.

With wide eyes he watched as she showed authority to these people, stabbing the ground with her large sword that even made the ground vibrate. He was getting rather excited now, his bright blue eyes continuing to stare up at her with such child-like wonder. She was the kind of person he hoped to be like when he was older, but that didn't mean he didn't think he was capable as he was now. Withdrawing his blade he made a sudden few steps back, moving closer to the guide while still facing the group and showing he was a threat too despite his size. He dared not speak up right now, he might say something bad and cause unneeded aggression. He knew he was liable for saying something he probably shouldn't so he kept quiet, trying to concentrate on appearing strong and threatening.

[Assistant]
Yuudai was the first to step up, speaking directly to the woman, causing the group of men to all stare at her, each getting a good look at her while the woman stood there with her face in their general direction. After a moment she pointed one of the blades directly at Yuudai before speaking. "Yuudai Wakahisa, it's a shame you're life will be cut short before you even find out how interesting your mother really is. We actually like her, she serves a good purpose here. Oh well, hopefully she won't be too upset when I turn you into one of my toys, maybe she'll realize how fun you'll be to play with!" She laughed a little to herself at the end, showing no intimidation by Yuudai or her weapon. Instead one of the men moved closer to the half-Oni, his expression still the same as when the group had first shown up. "I know, I'm sending an unarmed human to fight an Oni, seems weird right? But I know what I'm doing, I kill things worst than you every day and felt these toys would be good enough to do the job."  She turned her sword slightly to point at the Tengu to address her point as well. "And no, telling you guys what I know would be boring. Much more fun to kill you and make you mine." She said as one of the men threw a punch at Yuudai, the blow much stronger than even a human of his size, it would hit like an Oni to whatever it struck.

"That said, miss Metou I don't actually have much use for you. Your little eye trick is too limited for my taste, so you I may just rip apart." her voice sinister as one of the men besides her took a step back before suddenly sprinting forward towards Metou, his head partially lowered as he charged forward faster than most rontu could sprint, planning to run right through her if he could. The others with the woman still stood where they were, not moving at all outside of their eyes which constantly jumped around at the various people, making sure to always have good looks on them and any changes.

Takumi was a little relived to see how this started, while still scared it seemed to him that she was out to have fun and not on some official mission which made the situation a little better. From his perspective it at least meant they all stood a chance, and wouldn't find themselves in an even worst situation. "I know her, but I can't really say much not while she is here anyway. She is no bandit though, and she doesn't care about Ru, she wants you guys." He spoke to both Kenji and Jiang. "All I can say is she's a Zhuni from the Empire, they may look like us but they are some weird alien ki in a human shell. Her mother holds influence over many of the larger clans, and that's as far she'll likely allow me to say." He briefly explained.

[User]
"You know mother?"

Yuudai's voice held a little bit of surprise, though not to the fact that she knew who she was or who her mother was but more how she spoke about her, as if she knew her personally. Not only that but the fact she apparently knew something she didn't? She was either lying or there really was something and if the half onii was truthful both really pissed her off.  "I didn't know my mother had such bad taste... I will make sure to ask you more in a moment, just stay right there." Turning her head towards the advancing human Yuudai had a gut feeling that it would be far from normal, maybe the bone in its head, maybe the muscles all over its body, or the fact it walked like it had no life?

A smile crept cross her face at the mention that she had faced worse things than Yuudai, however it was soon stripped away as the fist of the large human came straight for her! Shifting her weight and footing Yuudai avoided the attack with swiftness not normally akin to her kind, the fist passing by her face by mere inches. Reaching out with one of her hands she attempted to grab the humans wrist, planning on pulling him deeper into his own attack as she stepped forwards to land her own fist into his side. Though this was not the end of her attack, as it simply would set her up for a follow up if allowed. "Raahhh!" Her muscles would strain against her shirt as she used her grip and fist to lift the huge man, attempting to use all of her intense strength to toss the man right towards the woman!

[Assistant]
Even when the princess actually acted as such it was weird; she didn't seem to fit the part just yet, it was kind of like watching a little kid pretending to play. Tetsuya found it a little hard then to take what was being said seriously, but he couldn't say a word on the matter unless he wanted to get Lord Shima in trouble. For royalty Eri was so... Carefree and relaxed, it was odd. Even when Lord Shima spoke to him casually there was still a sense of authority, yet there was nothing here. Maybe it was the fact they seemed to be the same age, as everyone in power he'd ever met was generally older than he was.

"It's uh... It's an honor, Princess Eri. I am Tetsuya Ueno, the Shima Knight. And I think it's very nice you're trying to get along with the common folk." It seemed like a safe move with everyone going on, trying to endear oneself to their subjects. Sure, Eri wasn't technically the ruler now but she would be someday and it could only benefit her if people liked her. Weird to think that this girl would some day be leading the largest clan, and yet here he was speaking with her in such an informal way. Bowing for what felt like the hundredth time today Tetsuya gave Eri a small smile, still feeling a little confused over all of this. What Rii then had to share with him didn't help that confusion whatsoever.

Whoever Rii was she sure did know a lot, far more than Tetsuya would have credited her for. Even with what little she had said he got the notion she was well aware of a lot of things, making him both curious and wary about her. If Lady Ru couldn't give him the information he needed then perhaps Rii could, if she'd be willing to talk. Interesting that so much worth was being put into Eri, it sounded like she was much more than just some princess. Heck, from the way that Rii was speaking of her it was like she would be the savior of Baji someday. Would she be the one to end this war then? Or was something else even worse going to happen? Man... All this talk of spirits and everything, did he even want to know what this was all about?

"It sounds like you've got your hands full. It can't be easy, having the job you do." Glancing back to Eri, Tetsuya smiled slightly seeing her looking all proud, wondering if this might just be something to pump her up a bit. Didn't having so much expectation being placed on you make you nervous? Yet the princess didn't look like she minded at all, in fact she appeared to revel in it. The Neko could understand in a way he supposed, he had a lot of duty that he was meant to see to for Lord Shima even if he himself didn't feel wholly ready. There were plenty of older, more capable guards who could be conducting this search and yet he'd been chosen for reasons he still didn't understand. All he knew was that Lord Shima trusted him, and he would do everything he could to make sure that trust wasn't misplaced.


[System]
Humanity
Age: 20
Arcana: X - Wheel of Fortune
Appearance: Alina is not an especially intimidating figure. She is short even for an adult woman, with a very delicate frame and rather pale skin, accompanied by bright jade eyes and black hair running down past her shoulders. The impression is furthered by a slight slouch, and a general lack of life to her expression in most situations; it is as though she is, not strictly attempting to avoid notice, but rather not motivated to make herself noticed. Her outfits, usually sharing a monochromatic and/or washed-out tone, only heighten this impression.
Personality: Alina is a relatively quiet person. She keeps to herself, she does her work, and she socialises as necessary. It is, however, hard to suggest she has very many true friends - she's an introvert, and not inclined to large gatherings, or even small gatherings realistically speaking, with only one person she regularly speaks with. She does, of course, have her interests, but they are largely personal - reading, video games, playing the guitar, studying European history, that sort of thing. As it happens, her true passions are history, and especially music; it is something she has dreamed of mastering for years, taking her talents to the world with her expert string skills and vocal talent! What a way to live!
But this is not what she is doing. Part of her feels she cannot do so - that she would just fail, that she's not good enough to become famous in that way, and she'll never succeed if that's the path she chooses. Even so, she enjoys it far more than what she's taken as her course in university, but in a way finds herself trapped by that, that she has to follow that path now that she's taken that course. That she has no choice, and no control, a defining feature of her life it seems - and a highly depressing one, at that.
Bio: To say Alina's life has had little control on her part is somewhat accurate. More precisely, she has rarely been given the chance to make decisions for herself - even as her older brother Jonas was given more leeway. It is likely that her grandparents had a large part in this, over-present in their children and grandchildren's life as they were: on her mother Marigold's side, Nicholas and Arthricia Hadleigh were always very traditional, insisting that the kids had to do things "the good old-fashioned way", even if these were less effective than modern methods; whilst from her father Marcus' side, Grandad Oliver was somewhat soft-souled, a poor counterbalance to Granny Edith's controlling behaviour, and a trait that ultimately affected her father's attitude too.
Suffice to say, the three eldest forced their opinions on Marigold, Marcus, and ultimately Alina and Jonas a lot, the Hadleighs often contradicting the Sanfords and vice versa. It never came to physical abuse, but where Jonas, already seven by the time their influence ramped up, found he resisted their commands at every turn (subtly supported by his mother, it transpired), Alina, only two or three, turned out to be far more like her grandad - kindly in theory, easily pushed around in practice. In the end, she didn't get a say in her middle school, high school, or even her college qualifications. And after all, "Those artsy-fartsy lessons don't mean anything in today's world." "You need a real technical degree to find work." "You're not skilled enough in music to play in a band." "You only have so many years, and you need to use them effectively."
"Never give up on your dreams." The only positive influence she had was not enough in a tide of nay-sayers and manipulators to make her better, nor enough for her university education to be anything less than scientific. But with his passing and the associated grief, it was just enough for her to insist upon a university far from the rest of her family - all the way down in Texas, as a matter of fact. Yet with Thanksgiving gone, she has yet to find any enjoyment in her subject of choice.
Scars: Three of her four grandparents have been historically controlling, demanding, and ultimately detrimental to her will and motivation. She goes the way she's been told, because that's what she's been machined into; she's worthless and interchangeable if she does, yet she's bound to fail and fall if she doesn't. Cogs cannot escape the machine of their life's course - she was born without control, she cannot gain control, and so she'll die without control. Or so she's been led to believe, at least.

Metaverse
A proud warrior in his youth, and keen to be fawned over in his age, the King lost everything and gained it back as the winds of fate threw him between his daughters.

[User]
Jin frowned slightly as they were poked in the chest by an arrogant imp. It actually hurt a little, being poked with those sharp and thin fingers. "Hey! Hands off the merchandise." They folded their arms defensively across their chest. "You may have saved us, but this could easily be some kind of trap. I'm not convinced." Turning their head to the side to address the two women, they spoke softly. "Keep your head on a swivel. Something about this place…"

Indeed, even though it was pretty, it was also eerie. The sweat at the back of Jin's neck had yet to dry, and there was no space to calm down. Inside, they were wondering just who this "Gloriousness" could be. Luckily the imp was a chatterbox, divulging info left and right. Either there were no secrets underground, or this thing couldn't keep it's mouth shut to save it's life.

Jin was betting on the latter.

They let Harriette do the talking, inwardly ready to ask just where "down here" was. But they never got the chance. Subconsciously, Jin put their body in between the new cave opening and the women.

The "Gloriousness" stepped out, and immediately set Jin's senses blaring. This woman? – Jin hated to assume – was somehow wrong. The beauty was overwhelming, the confidence overbearing. Something inside Jin screamed for them to exit, as soon as possible. One didn't survive on the street without gaining a good sense of danger, and dangerous people. Even if you couldn't see the knife, it didn't mean it wasn't there.

Jin looked sideways to the two women, whose names they had yet to receive. The taller one looked like she was about to puke, or faint, or both. That was enough for Jin to step forward.

"Sorry, my groveling knee is out of whack today." A viper's grin. "You really are Glorious, aren't you? But if I remember the rules, it's more polite to introduce yourself first, ain't it? So… who are you exactly? Does Her Gloriousness have an actual name?"

[Assistant]
Vincent Cawler
@SilverPaw

There was an odd sense of belonging starting to poke at the back of Vincent's mind. Not with the group of college students he found himself with, though the shared danger made them feel closer than mere strangers, but instead a belonging in the strange, hostile world they found themselves. His instinct, usually prickly and sensitive from seeing danger around every corner felt focused here, directing him much more purposefully than ever before. The threat was obvious - the guards, the monsters, these bizarre basketball people - and seemed to gravitate towards their 'spots', leaving a few areas seemingly safe. For everyone else involved, like Nick and Caelum with him, the danger present was completely out of the ordinary, a cannonball into the deep end when you could barely swim.

Vincent, though? He was stepping into a kiddie pool.

Moving from the prison yard and the basketball court into what looked like a gigantic garbage dump, Vincent felt his limbs grow heavy with each step they took. Dakota using his 'Personie' or whatever it was called to heal his injuries definitely helped, but the crash from the adrenaline was still falling on him. Plus, he'd exerted himself a whole lot more than he usually did. Magic or no, he didn't have unlimited stamina.

He was dragging his feet when they arrived at a less-than-demolished house, almost tripping on whatever broken piece of furniture was in their path. With Nick slowing down, obviously drawn to the house, Vincent took the opportunity to put his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing out a few breaths to keep himself stable.

"Hey, you, you go with him," Vincent said to Caelum, watching Nick wander inside. "I'll keep an eye out here. Just, shout if there's any monsters that pop out." He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. He really hoped there wouldn't be any monsters in there... but there probably was. He'll take the chance to rest for now.

[User]
Caelum Harrington
"Alright, let's make a detour then," Caelum complied tiredly with a sigh. He had an inkling what this might be about, though he was hoping he was wrong. He followed along until they reached Nick's house – or rather, a replica of its remains. He didn't comment, but his nose crinkled it disgust; the building was in as much disrepair as any other.

When Nick entered, Caelum didn't immediately follow, shifting on his feet in discomfort. If this was another encounter with a Shadow, he was not looking forward to it. But then Vincent opened his mouth needlessly, urging him to go. Caelum frowned at the man, who was the one panting now. "So, the healing didn't help with stamina," he commented. "Very well, I shall enter…but expect to be called on." With that, he entered the small house.

There were not many rooms to it, and it was all desolate, abandoned. Finding a small bedroom in which Nick and his Shadow resided was not difficult either. By the time Caelum arrived, though, he caught only the tail end of their conversation. Grimacing, he stopped outside, peering at the duo within.

Their matter was obviously private, and if it were just up to him, he'd leave them to it. He had no idea what to say, or if anything should be said at all – as far as he knew, the Shadows were supposed to be killed. That was what Spindle had said, after all, and what Barney had down with his own double. Yet, Caelum was deeply uncomfortable at the idea of fighting a child, of all things. Of course, if things proceeded as they had so far, the human form was but a guise for the monster within – or they were one and the same, and the monster emerged in the presence of danger.

"Must we combat this one as well?" Caelum questioned, tone betraying his reluctance to do so. It wasn't just out of sympathy either; he would prefer to avoid further confrontation if possible. He'd had plenty of monster-slaying for a good long while, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps, if he were not so powerless – if he had one of those Persona for himself, he'd feel differently. As it was, if there was a peaceful solution, he'd take it, but in the end, what to do with this Shadow was Nick's decision.

[Assistant]
It was probably for the best that she'd been ignored here. The imp was, honestly, kind of rude... and hard to say anything to. He explained that Her Gloriousness was the leader "down here", which probably meant the cave, then? And in the end, the figure who emerged was... well, honestly, queen-like. She had the clothing and demeanour for it, anyway... but something felt off about her, more than just the horns. Her presence alone was kind of disconcerting, and glancing over at Harriette, she could see she was...

Scared. Terrified, even.

And Alina had wanted to abandon them by giving up and dying. Like a coward.

She was a coward. Which was why she didn't immediately follow the instructions given, and instead moved to Harriette's side, limping the whole way until she could plant her hand on Harriette's shoulder.

'It's okay.'

It wasn't. None of this entire experience had been okay. But she wanted to do... something? She didn't know, this whole thing had been way too much. She...

'I'm Alina Sanford.'

...she needed to kneel, too, right? That was grovelling, probably. She didn't know, when was the last time somebody had mentioned it in any context? Anyway, she did kneel, because that was needed. Maybe it'd keep her alive a bit longer.


[System]
Leon Kohlberg
"I used this game to escape reality, but even now... reality never wants me to get away..."

---

Username: Seraphin
Age: 21

Gender: Male

Main: Yorick, the Gravedigger

True Appearance: Leon's clothes are torn apart, replaced by ragged cloaks and cloths that resemble that of his power's original owner. His skin glows slightly of a greener shade whilst his eyes are colored yellow. His voice echoes out in multiple voices whilst a series of scars begin to spawn all over his flesh.

Powers:
 Unholy Covenant - When needed, Leon can summon his shovel: an ornate and lightweight iron shovel with an eerie lantern attached at its end. At the center of the shovel are the engraves initials 'Y.M'. The shovel can make use of Leon's pranas, causing its attacks to explode in a burst of spectral energy.
 Omen of War - Leon empowers his shovel with a wave of spectral energy, shackling a rabid and agile ghoul to rise from the nether. Whilst the ghoul lives, Leon moves faster than usual. Whilst his shovel is still empowered, Leon is able to move significantly faster.
 Omen of Decay - Leon releases a plague from the lantern attached to his shovel, causing a caustic explosion to erupt in a location, and summoning a plagued ghoul that decays the area around it. The decay slows down enemies (or everyone, since he is still learning) while they are near the ghoul.
 Omen of Famine - Leon smashes his shovel upon the earth, creating a small fissure whilst summoning a ravenous ghoul that grows stronger with his injuries; the ghoul's attacks absorb the enemy's pranas, redirecting it to Leon, healing him in the process.
 Omen of Death - Leon, in his true form, pierces his shovel into the bowels of the earth, unearthing ghouls that take the appearance of Leon's allies (or himself). The ghouls can only attack and not copy the target's spells. Any damage sustained by the original ones are redirected to the mimicking ghouls.

Personality: Leon, being a new kid on the block, is fairly shy and awkward. However, he tries his best to gain new friends, or even to communicate with others-- no matter how weird his tactics have to be. He has some sort of an inferiority complex, and often sees himself as a less important being as compared with others. He seldom wants to work with others, though, and would often do things his way if only to prove to himself that he is just as capable as his comrades. Leon is not really that proud of his powers, seeing as his ghouls frighten people instead of actually wanting to be close to him.

Although, Leon is still level-headed and mature when push comes to shove. He does not like those that push others around, and will stick up for those who are being trodden over. He is not exactly leader material, but he is willing to take control when there is anarchy. Righteous, vindictive, and fiercely loyal-- Leon is a comrade that most would want and not want at the same time.

Short Biography: Studying in college was one thing that Leon feared as it entailed him moving away from his family and his home. A college in Darkwell was the cheapest one around, and thus, the boy had no choice but to apply there. Shortly after moving there though, he immediately realized that the residents were not really friendly material. Hence, Leon had a hard time making any social contacts. Coupled with stress in college, the boy escaped his lonely reality by playing multiple online games, but none other stuck to him more than League of Legends. Sure, people were toxic, but they worked together until that blasted Nexus was destroyed. He played whenever he was stressed, and his favorite was Yorick-- sharing the same drive to be remembered by others. It was all a just game, though. Or, so Leon believed.

He didn't know what happened, but he just woke up with ghouls swarming his room. It took days for him to settle down, and come to terms with his reality. But, when he saw a shovel decked upon his floor with the initials Y.M, the lad knew that there was something greater at work. But, more than that, he knew that he was not the only one who could have been the victim here. Life was beginning to become more complex, but to imagine a path much duller than this was almost nigh on impossible for Leon. At least, now, whenever he came home, a bunch of specters greeted him with jaws and fangs in their smiles.

Oh, being a League of Legends player had never been much more fulfilling.

Other: "Death is only the beginning."

[User]
Liam&Matt

 As Sam made her remark about her drunken state, Liam choked momentarily on his beer. As he did his best to clear his throat and sinuses of the bitter liquid, he did his best to seem calm (though his obvious blush continued to give him away) as he sat back in his chair. Matt on the other hand, seemed to pay no attention to the actions or words of those around him. Instead, his mind drifted onwards and outwards, trying to calculate and comprehend everything that had happened over the last couple of days. In truth, despite his calm exterior, Matt was still overwhelmed by all this.

 "Yeah? That's not a bad idea." Liam chimed in, sitting up straight as his eyes focused on Clarice. A moment later, his eyes drifted to Sam, though he'd do his best to keep it subtle enough to remain undetected. He began reminiscing on his past, and what he had divulged to Sam shortly before her... 'Eruption'. Despite his best intentions, he couldn't help but feel he had deceived her with that half truth. If nothing else, he could make it up to her, but how... "I'm sure Matt has some spares floating around. Don't you Matt?" A moment of silence passed, "Matt?"

 "Hmm?" In an instant, the dark haired male's vision returned, glancing about the room. Despite his trance, he was able to grasp at least part of the conversation, "... Sure. Help yourself." Matt's gaze fell upon Sam as he spoke, quickly returning to Liam, "We should patrol tonight."

 "Man, you really are in your own world?" Liam remarked, wearing a teasing grin, though a subtle hint of concern emerged, "Clarice asked if we'd like to accompany her to the park. Coming?"

 Matt paused a moment, shaking his head as he settled back in his chair, "No, I'm fine. I should stay in case any others show. But do as you wish, after today, it'd be good for you to unwind."

 'Yeah, you too...' Liam thought, his gaze focused on Matt's now distant eyes for a moment before the blonde male sighed heavily. "Yeah, yeah. Give me a shout if something comes up." With that, he'd place his bottle on the floor and stand from his chair. In a short time, he stood by the door, turning to face the interior with his usual smile, "Well, better be going. Stay safe, Matt."

 "Yeah. You too."

---

?????

 As Garret's door flew open, he'd be greeted with the sight of timid young girl. Clothed in an off white hoodie and leggings, she shrieked softly as he made his appearance, clutching one hand in another as she fell back into his clone. With an equally frightened gasp, she attempted to stand her ground, pushing herself from the clone and resorting to fidgeting with the collar of her heavy attire. Shortly after, her gaze would return to the man, seeming to be shaking in fear.

 "G-Garret? I have the right apartment? Or-" She said, glancing behind her to the clone, "Y-Yeah. I think so." Shortly she'd turn to him, extending on hand out that seemed to be clasping something. As she turned the hand over and released her fingers, a cellphone could be seen sitting in her palm, "Our boss wanted you to have this. Said to do away with your old one." At the mention of her boss, he quivering voice faded, carrying now an even tone as her eyes remained locked to Garrett's in a fashion that betrayed her earlier character.

---

---

[Assistant]
Raze Colter

Raze ran. He just ran and ran down the streets of Darkwell. Raze wasn't just running away from a guy with a gang of ghouls. He was fleeing the potential of being labeled as a murderer, as if he could outrun such judgements. Raze weaved and shoved through crowds of angry, annoyed faces towards the only place he felt would be safe: his own home.

He bounded up the stairwell of his apartment building rather than waiting for the elevator, afraid that his hopes and dreams would fall away if he stopped moving. Raze hardly even stopped to whip out his keys to unlock the door, slamming his body shoulder-first into the faded, brown entry. Once unlocked, he slammed the door behind him and slumped to the ground, leaning his back against it to keep out any accusers. It didn't help though. His accusers were already inside his apartment; in his mind.

Murderer. You're no savior, you're a killer! Filth like you are unworthy of being a hero!, cackled the voice of Hecarim. Raze pressed his palms against his forehead and gritted his teeth in frustration. Hecarim's malicious laughter echoed around his skull, growing louder and louder by the second.

Raze yelled out loud, then thought to himself, I DID THE RIGHT THING, YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!! IT WAS EITHER THAT WOMAN, OR THAT MAN!!! I protected the innocent!

Hecarim just let out a bellowing laugh, You slaughtered that man's life without any hesitation. You are a blight on Darkwell, just as so many others are. You are no beacon of hope, you are a symbol to be feared, a story told to scare children. You are one of us now.

Still sitting on the ground against the floor, Raze lowered his clenched fists to the carpet, allowing them to gently rest on its bouncy surface. No, I'm not. I am nothing to be afraid of. Not yet. He opened his eyes and looked across the apartment to a window. All of Darkwell stood before him, skyscrapers silhouetted against a slowly setting sun. There is much work to be done before the scum of this city truly fear me.

Garrett Fishman

Before Garrett stood not a dangerous stranger, nor a mysterious courier. Instead, it was simply a little girl, much shorter than Garrett. She was small and shaking, reminding him of a mouse. Garrett swiped the phone from her and stood off to the side of the doorframe, giving his clone room to usher the girl in with a shove.

Garrett scrutinized the phone in his free arm, turning it over, then back around. Pressing the home button simply brought up the main menu, no lock screen or security of some other kind. Yet.

Garrett held out the phone with the screen facing straight at the girl. "What do I do with this, call or wait to be called?"

Vicki Victory

"So what's your plan? You going to try to bring a comic book to life? Be a boxer and kick ass? Ignore it?"

Vicki brought up a clenched fist in front of her face, examining it to find any indication at the source of her strength. She herself was still trying to figure out the answer to that question. "The plan is to learn to live with this. I don't know what that looks like yet, though."

The elevator dinged, and Vicki glanced quickly at the floor indicator. They were at the top of the complex. Fancy.

Alex lead Vicki down a hallway. On the way, they passed a blonde man with moderately long hair. Vicki nodded at him with a slight grin, then continued on her way behind Alex. Down the hallway, one of the doors seemed to have...exploded or something. A few splinters were embedded in the opposite wall, but a majority of the door and some of its lock mechanism littered the ground. It was to this door that Alex steered Vicki. Cautiously, she poked her head around the doorframe first, followed closely by the rest of her body. She carefully stepped over and around pieces of the door, then spoke,"Ah, hi. I think I'm the same as you guys?"

@Eklispe @Kiroue (And anyone left in the apartment.)


[System]
~Lady Victoria Moncourier-Crest~

---
Age: 20
Gender: Female

Bio:
The daughter of Lord Alexander and Lady Diana Crest, Victoria was born with a rare blood condition called Haemochromotosis, basically where you have more iron in your blood than normal. It's linked with early dementia, but people rarely lived past the age of 60 in Victorian era. This makes her blood smell much, much stronger. And a prime target for vampires.

Her upbringing was privileged being from a family of vast wealth, Victoria wanted for nothing. She had all the ponies and horses she could want, this created her affinity and love for all animals and nature through horse riding and caring for them. When she was twelve, she fell from a horse and grazed her elbows. Her strong blood caught the scent of a nearby vampire. This triggered an attack later that evening as it tracked her back home. As the vampire was about to savage her in her own bed, her father burst in armed with a sword, gun, a cross and a stake (whether stakes actually worked is still a myth) and killed the vampire, this is when she learned they did exist, but she was made to keep it secret. It turned out her father was a secret Vampire Hunter! He knew he himself was a target, having the rare blood condition himself, so did her mother, this was only passed down genetically from both parents. He had to become a vampire hunter to protect himself, his wife and his future children. He guarded her religiously until recently he was killed by a vampire due to his ageing body and weaker ability to dispatch them. They never caught his murderer.

6 months later, Victoria has reached that age where she was expected to have a husband. It was ever more precedent now that the Lord of the House had been killed, there needed to be a new head of the family, with Victoria being the only daughter and no male brothers or cousins to assume the role, it fell to Victoria's future husband. Lord Christopher Spencer was chosen as a suitable candidate for her. And this is where our story begins, at the ball held at the Crest manor estate where she would meet her selected betrothed. Only there was something strangely off about this Lord…

[User]
As they left his family behind, Vail glanced once back over his shoulder at his parents, who had already turned away from them to take solace in each other's company. He knew they were still upset with him and with Victoria over their decision to be together, but he'd been hoping that they would at least set their disappointment aside while there were more pressing issues to take care of. Peter and Katherine were unwavering traditionalists. They believed in doing things a certain way and balked at the thought of allowing anyone or anything to disrupt their way of life.

For a long time, their beliefs had rubbed off on him too, but since he'd met and gotten to know Victoria, he'd realized that his family had some glaring flaws. They were inflexible. Centuries of falling into strict routine had made them blind to the possibility that there was more than one right way to do things. Their stubbornness had cost them dearly when Mikael had attacked, and now it was potentially going to cost them the affection of their future daughter in law. He exhaled softly as he turned away from them again. Disliking the tension between his parents and the woman he loved, he hoped they would come around eventually, but it was difficult to tell what would happen this early on.

"Well, it sounds like we'll have plenty of that," Vail mused when Victoria told him that she was hungry. It was interesting to him that she still craved solid food even though she had woken up as a vampire. Occasionally, he had a taste for something other than blood, but he would never equate it to genuine hunger. When he dined on the food and drink that sustained mortals, it was always by choice, since he didn't need enough of the nutrients in it to consider it essential to his diet. Human meals just gave him a bit of a short-term energy boost.

Approaching the manor, he inhaled the strong aroma of blood and realized that their human hosts had prepared more than just a classic dinner for them to feast on that evening. He walked by Victoria's side the rest of the way to the dining room and surveyed the banquet from the doorway. After eating nothing for the past week, the food and blood that had been set out for them all would be an exceptional meal to fill his empty stomach, and his mouth watered at just the thought of it. Even though he didn't need human food to survive, he still appreciated the way the mortals cooked and seasoned it.

He joined Victoria on the far end of the table while the rest of the vampires who had been invited filled in the center. A few of his cousins eyes their own wine glasses hungrily, barely restraining themselves from downing the blood inside before everyone was seated. They had all fed recently, but they were still slaves to their nature. The pungent scent of blood in the air and the generous portions that had been provided to each of them was a test to the wills of the clan members with less self-control.

Vail's only task was to make sure that none of his relatives attacked the humans in the room, and since his cousins were merely slavering over their drinks, he fixed his attention on Victoria, who seemed to have the opposite reaction to the glass in front of her. "If you still have an appetite for the food you ate when you were human, it may be too soon," he suggested, resting a hand supportively on her leg. "We still don't know exactly what your transformation is going to look like, so there's no need to force it if you aren't ready. The blood is just there for you as an option. Enjoy your dinner, and don't feel obligated to finish your drink if you have no taste for it yet."

[Assistant]
Victoria appreciated Vail comforting her with her lack of blood appetite. He knew she struggled with the substance beforehand. Perhaps her psyche was preventing her vampiric needs from taking over. As he said, it could be too soon. "Did you manage to recover that tome we used? Perhaps there is more information contained within?"

"A tome?" James asked curiously and Victoria explained to him what they had found, and he appeared quite interested. "Fascinating. I'm an avid scholar like my father. Not as…experimental as he is and how I came into existence as a half breed, but still thirsty for all fonts of knowledge this world has to offer." It seemed James was rather candid about his experimental existence. Diana may have been tricked into conceiving a vampire's child, but she was still glad James was born. That motherly love ran very deep.

"Perhaps the Saints know of more than they let on?" Francois suggested using them as a source of knowledge. "Perhaps when you find them, we can enquire." He asked James and his son replied with a nod. Maybe they were being optimistic for Victoria's sake, Vail was more realistic and doubted the Saints were even alive.

After Victoria devoured her chicken and vegetables like a starved homeless person, she still felt….unsatisfied. She did not feel full. And then suddenly the waft of blood from her glass became more appetising. She took up the glass and had no trouble drinking the blood nectar from within it. She let out a big sigh and smiled at everyone. James pointed to the corner of his mouth to indicate she had remaining blood left around her lips. She felt rather embarrassed and dabbed her mouth with her napkin sheepishly. Francois looked proud at her in that moment. "Well…would you look at that." He mused as James agreed with his father. Diana was rather relieved, despite her reservations about her newly vampiric daughter. "Well done, Darling." She reiterated the encouragement she knew she had to give to a naturally worrisome Victoria.

She hoped that Vail was also proud of her for taking that first big step in overcoming the blood phobia. "Well I certainly enjoyed my dinner. Thank you mother, auntie for providing us with much needed nourishment."

"Shall we retire to the lounge for the rest of the evening?" Diana suggested as the servants began to tidy away the leftovers. The men agreed as it was custom after dinner to leave the table and join conversation and drinks with their guests in entertaining. Victoria could take this opportunity to speak with Sylvia alone about the questions she had about being a female vampire. She felt like she could trust her and talk to her, she didn't view Victoria as a threat to her former fiancé. And Vail had expressly explained he had no romantic feelings for Lady Macey so Victoria did not feel threatened by Sylvie. She really needed a female friend right now.

"Lady Sylvie. I hoped you might wish to join me on the terrace for a cup of tea?" She asked as she rose from her chair with even more grace and air about her. She had renewed energy and her aura became more of a presence within the room. She held a certain regal posture. "For girl talk." She added and flashed a teasing grin at Vail to make sure he knew it was just her and Sylvia. He would probably be curious to know if they would talk about him further.

[User]
"Unfortunately, I didn't stay long enough in my family's manor to look for it," Vail shook his head at Victoria's question. Thoughts of the tome had crossed his mind since then, and a part of him regretted not taking the time to pick it up before he left England. However, in the moment, it just hadn't been a priority. He'd stumbled upon the wreckage of Mikael's attack and had been concerned about his family's wellbeing above everything else. Since then, he hadn't had any opportunities to return for the book either. He'd been busy trying to mold his family clan into some kind of order and waiting for Victoria to wake up from her transformative slumber.

If possible, he still would have liked to go back to find it, but the trip didn't seem feasible. Now that Lady Crest had awoken, someone would need to teach her how to adapt to her life as a vampire, and he felt like that role belonged to him as both the one who had turned her and the one who would—hopefully soon—marry her. Additionally, his clan was nowhere near ready to get by without him. For their sakes too, he needed to remain in Scotland for at least a while longer.

The dinner they enjoyed was delicious, and Vail savored the taste of the food and the blood that had been provided for the nonhuman guests. Once he'd cleared his plate, he sat back in his seat and glanced at Victoria, who still hadn't touched her own glass. It seemed like she still hadn't warmed to the thought of drinking the blood of the people she'd once belonged to. He was just about to offer her a word of encouragement, hoping that she would try it at least one more time now that her appetite for a mortal meal had been whetted. However, before he could even say a word, he blinked in surprise as she picked up the glass on her own and drank the whole thing.

"Not so bad, is it?" he mused lightly, leaning over to brush a kiss against her cheek. He was incredibly pleased to see her take such an important step in overcoming her aversion to blood. If she'd fought against her new instinct to feed on it, she could have become a danger to herself and to the humans around her, so it was better that she voluntarily drank from the glass that her mother had offered her that night. He also hoped that now that she'd tasted it, she would be less opposed to learning to hunt and feed like the rest of their kind did after dark.

At the end of dinner, Vail rose from his seat to join the rest in the lounge for conversation and drinks, pleasantly full on the rich food Diana had so generously provided them. After spending the last week in a constant state of worry for Victoria, it was nice to return to something a little more normal. He waited for her to get up from the table as well, only to quirk a brow when she chose to invite Sylvia onto the terrace instead.

"Oh? Of course," Sylvia grinned, flashing her pearly fangs. Walking around the table, she slipped her arm through Lady Crest's and shot her ex-fiancé a wink. "Sorry, Vail. Looks like she's mine tonight."

He rolled his eyes. "Just for the evening… I'd like her back after that."

"We'll see," Sylvie teased, giving her new friend's arm a tug to lead her away.

"Good luck with her, Victoria," Vail said flatly, though a smile still pulled at his lip. "I'll find you later." He'd been hoping to have her to himself soon, since he'd spent the last week wondering if she would even survive her transformation, but he supposed he could stand to share her a little longer. For now, he headed off to the lounge with the other men, idly curious about what Lady Crest had called Sylvia aside to discuss.

[Assistant]
Victoria was happy that Vail was proud of her and smiled when he leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek. She shook her head at his question of it being so bad. "Not anymore. Perhaps my tastebuds are adapting to it." She mused in reply. Maybe the fact it was in a glass and resembled more like a wine than blood helped her mental state of mind and eased her anxiety over her phobia. She wasn't ready to start even thinking about…hunting humans. She just couldn't bring herself to hurt an innocent person.

Lady Crest was relieved to have Sylvie accept her invitation for a girly chat. She smiled at her warmly as she linked her arm through hers. Sylvie was a friendly woman. Albeit 300 years her senior, still looked around Victoria's age. She turned to see Vail's reaction toward Sylvia's remark that she had his girlfriend for the evening. If Victoria could blush, she would at the moment Vail said he wanted her back later. Was he being a tad possessive over her? She liked the thought of belonging to someone, to him.

"Don't worry, I will always come back to you, Vail." Victoria chimed sweetly at him as he said he would find her later. She blew a kiss his way as Sylvia tugged her from the dining hall and into the hallway. Diana smiled and shook her head as she began clearing the table with her sister. "Vail does give you a hard time, doesn't he?" Victoria asked Sylvie as they walked down the hallway. "Did you annoy him somehow?"

As Vail joined the men in the lounge area, Francois took a large cigar from a box and placed it in his mouth. "Care for a cigar, Master Hygrace?" He offered the fellow vampire as James took a seat and crossed his legs and leaned back in the lounger. "You must be relieved that Victoria woke up." James did not take a cigar as it didn't appeal to him. "Although it is a shame about that tome. Perhaps when Lady Macey and I return I could scout your home and if its' clear of Wynter scum, I can look for it." He suggested as a help to them both.

Victoria and Syliva meanwhile, ventured out to the back garden veranda. A fireplace in the centre of the terrace lit up the benches. One of the servants came out with a pot of hot tea for the ladies to enjoy and keep warmer in the colder Scottish air. "So I wanted to speak with you about my new…life." Victoria didn't know how else to describe it. "Vail can teach me how to live as a vampire and guide me but I need to know how a female vampire works. From a fellow female vampire. Such as….how do we breed?" She asked a little coyly. She knew how a human body worked. A monthly cycle. But she knew nothing about vampire anatomy. "And I need to know these things…for the future. Especially if I am to get married and expected to have children." Which was the social convention these days. She wasn't even sure the Hygraces would want her to bare their grandchildren.


[System]
Ritualist

Age:31

Gender: Female

Species: Human(ish)

Appearance:

Lenya is a tall Germanic woman with straw blond hair. She is pretty, although her high cheekbones and angular features seem to conspire to rob her of true beauty. She has a hiker's lean trim build which bespeak many years of alpine life in her native Austria. Although her eyes are a piercing blue, they are usually kept behind the half moon glasses she wears to aid her with her reading.

Lenya dresses conservatively in stylish but expensive clothing with a particular affection for tailored suits. She is frequently seen carrying a small leather briefcase in which she keeps her research notes and ritual tools.

Despite having lived in the United States for several years, and her best efforts, Lenya has been unable to eradicate her crisp Austrian accent.

Background: Lenya grew up in wealth and privilege in southern Austria with her sisters, mother and grandmother. It is no accident that her family was one of the few to avoid destruction and ruin in the turbulent years following the fall of the Austro-Hungarian empire. At some point in the dimly imagined past Lenya's ancestors gained magical powers through a bargain of some sort. Ever since that day the women of the family have been blessed with certain occult powers. Over the centuries they have grown in power and sophistication through careful training and research.

The female members of the clan stick together in order to create an effective coven for protection and the use of rituals. Men in the form of husbands and lovers are occasionally associated with the coven but rarely remain in the picture for long. Each member is taught the lore of the clan from birth and encouraged to experiment and add to the knowledge of the group.

After receiving an excellent education by the traditional means of expensive private tutors. Lenya attended the University of Innsbruk and earned first a bachelor's and eventually a PhD in Anthropology. During this time she traveled the world, particularly to the old German Colonies in Papua New Guinea and Micronesia to conduct field work. This field work provided an excellent opportunity to gather lore about ritual traditions in far flung corners of the world to add to her family's impressive collection of grimoires.

After a scandal involving the disappearance of certain valuable cultural artefacts, Lenya left her post at the University of Innsbruck to conduct field work amongst the tribes of the Penobscot in Northern Maine and Southeastern Canada. During this research she first encountered Wells and Raich.

The firm sought out the Penobscot regarding a troubling Wendigo which had been transgressing cultural taboos. Intrigued, Lenya joined the investigation and helped to lay the beast to rest. Since then Wells and Raich has frequently employed the Austrian both for her ritual skill and her knowledge of far flung magical traditions

Current Life:
Lenya had been a guest of the Penobscot for over a year before she began to work for Wells and Raich. After this association became more formalized she purchased a property on nearby Islesboro. She has spent an enormous amount of money, wire transferred in euros with no questions asked, to rebuild the ancient stone cottage into a modern dwelling. Many of her particular requirements, including floors inlaid with strange silver designs, windows at precise spacing and angles, vast skylights and oddly but precisely carved doorways, have set tongues wagging in the small island community.

Lenya spends a good deal of time socializing with other Wells and Raich employees and is always eager to add more to the voluminous notebooks she keeps in neatly handwritten German.

Personality:
Lenya is a driven and professional woman and approaches every situation as an opportunity to learn. This occasionally backfires when people get the impression that she is looking at them like a disector looking at a specimen.

She has a natural caution and tends to underrate the ability of others while overrating her own. She is friendly and personable and willing to help other people out, particularly if this leads to them falling into her debt. The coven mentality means that she is willing to do what is required to help the team succeed and tends to view morality as a luxury to be consumed after survival is assured.

Lenya is almost obsessed by the development of arcane knowledge and power. Her goals usually line up with Wells and Raisch but there is little doubt in her mind that she and her sisters take precedence over any other allegiance.

Lenya has a close relationship with her sisters and frequently calls on them for advice and support in her enterprises.

Following a childhood accident in a hayloft Lenya has a fear of fire and of being burned. She is also somewhat uncomfortable in the presence of men, having spent most of her life among women and then in an adversarial academic environment where her gender counted against her.

Schools of Study: Ritualology/Alchemology

Specialization: Thaumaturgy, Hexes, Arcane Artifice, Brewing.

Spells: Most of Lenya's arsenal is ritual based and cannot be produced on the spot.

Fortune's Favorite: Lenya has access to certain hexes which can be quickly produced. These twist probability and chance in her favor or against others. This temporary alteration in probability has to be balanced out later, either by careful ritual dispersal or by a catastrophic equalization of bad luck.

Upon a Starry Mountain - Lenya can cause localized intense wind and storms, particularly if the weather is already bad.

Abilities:

Swiss Army Witch - Lenya has a truly impressive mastery of ritual magic, particularly Thaumaturgy. All of these rituals take time however and thus are not always useful in a crisis.

Arcane Artificer: Ritual craft requires the creation of ritual tools, as such Lenya is well aquainted with the construction of certain classes of enchanted items. She is also able to use these to 'macro' rituals for later use. She is reluctant to share these items with team mates without great need.

Coven: Lenya is one of five sisters and can draw on their knowledge and occasionally their assistance in her endeavours. This works both ways of course which occasionally causes problems for her teammates. Only one of her sisters is currently in the US however and they have their own projects to attend to.

Old Money: It is probably better people didn't ask where it comes from, but Lenya has substantial private means.

Academic Alchemist: Lenya has an interest in alchemy and maintains an extensive lab at her property on Isleboro. Her interest is in understanding her rituals in this new medium. As a result these potions are a little unreliable and have an unhealthy experimental dimension which is not always appreciated.

Trust Me: Lenya is naturally engaging and can augment this by the use of simple rituals and glamors.

Total Recall: Lenya can use her ritual skills to achieve a near eidetic memory of past events.

Combat Virgin: Lenya has no particular interest in or aptitude for physical combat, and much prefers to boil someone's blood from the comfort of a ritual circle. She views guns with a europeans suspicion and will require significant instruction from her teammate to become proficient in any kind of face to face combat.

The Lure of Knowledge: Lenya is fundamentally motivated by a quest to gather arcane knowledge for herself and her coven. This has in the part led to some questionable tactical decisions.

Equipment:

Little Briefcase of Horrors - Lenya carries a briefcase with a variety of ritual implements including knives, blood, incense and other equipment.

There Aren't Many Like it but This One is Mine: Lenya carries an athamae which was custom made for her on the day of her birth. It's exact origin is a carefully guarded secret of her coven and she keeps it concealed within an expensive fountain pen.

Rings on Her Fingers and Bells on her Toes: Lenya wears hand crafted jewelry of silver and polished copper. She uses these as vehicles for rituals performed earlier. The materials are expensive and time consuming to prepare.

Point and Shoot: Lenya has recently purchased a glock 9mm because the internet suggested that this was the best choice. It is currently considerably more dangerous to her than to the enemy.

Make a Note of It: Lenya is never seen without a notebook and pencil. She keeps notes obsessively.

[User] Drake crawled across the pavement, panting and exhausted. Though he tried as fast as he could to get to the office he had the sinking feeling in his stomach that it was all for naught. Slowly approaching the front doors into the lobby, he would tumble through the entrance. He didn't look up as he tried to speak. "Did I make it on time?" My hood concealed my exhausted and sweat ridden face.

[Assistant]
Max watched in discomfort as the kitchenette filled up with people in what seemed like seconds, forcing him to abandon all hope of a one-on-one conversation. Holding his donut and newly acquired book over his head in an effort to keep them from being squashed or defaced, respectively, Max was slowly forced up against the wall of the small room. He looked in dismay at his briefcase and Thermos, sitting tantalizingly close on the counter but blocked by a vampire (Max was bad with names- Atlas, was it?) and a kid he had never seen before (possibly an alchemist? they always had a certain look to them, it seemed). Might as well be the Berlin Wall.

Unable to get a word in edgewise, Max attempted an awkward reach-around to grab his stuff, but realized it was unwise to violate the personal space of a vampire, even one he knew like Atlas. Out of options and unable to get a word in edgewise, Max decided to simply wait a few minutes for the kitchenette to empty out before retrieving his property. Now the only trick was getting out.

Pressed up against the wall, still lifting a Bavarian cream donut and one of the classic occult reference books above his head, Max slowly shimmied along the wall towards the door, his cordovan loafers scuffing on the linoleum floor. He smiled at Glory on the slow, shuffling way out the kitchenette door, mouthed "thank you, dear" at her as he tucked the book under his arm and snagged a fresh corn muffin.

Max arrived at his desk just in time to hear Jaklo's warning- a new case. Great. Max felt that careful scholar's excitement welling up in his stomach. His stomach promptly grumbled- he had had nothing today but a cup of coffee. With that thought in mind, he quickly wolfed down the donut before starting on the muffin at a slower, more leisurely pace, careful of where any crumbs might fall. He didn't think it'd be appropriate to be eating during the meeting.

Max took a moment to gather up a couple materials that might be helpful to whatever discussion was about to take place- his notebook, Tobin's Spirit Guide, his pocket-sized Ouija set. He stopped briefly and cringed at the crack of wood breaking, but seeing no immediate danger, shrugged and continued to put his notes together. As he had learned over the last month, there was a volatile mix of personalities in this place. Not surprising someone would get rubbed the wrong way and lash out, as long as they left him out of it. Max had no (mortal) enemies and intended to keep things that way.

With all of his notes and resources tucked under his arm, he walked in Seph's office and sat down quietly, patiently waiting for the briefing to begin.