[System]
Huntsman Sheet"Fufufu~ What's wrong? Gonna cry?"

Whereas her sister and mother are stoic and calm-hearted, Caramelle decidedly takes after her late father.

The brown-haired girl has no patience or sense of time. Her blood runs hot and her tongue runs hotter. She's impulsive, headstrong, and arrogant with a sense of berating others for even the smallest annoyances and grievances. In Vacuo you speak your mind or you get run over, a sentiment she has continued to remind herself since she was a little girl. She absolutely detests that her older sister for all of her brilliance takes a lazy, slothful approach to life. After all, if you don't give 100% all the time do you even deserve to survive in such an environment? Her father had died for dropping his guard around the wrong people and she refuses to belittle his memory by lowering hers. Friends only end up stabbing you in the back. You don't need friends. You need walls. The more you keep people at distance the sooner you can predict their movements against you.

Her mother obviously doesn't think such a belief bodes well, but the damage of their past has done what it has. She hopes that Caramelle can grow as a person and learn that trusting people isn't inherently stupid.

Caramelle speaks louder than her diminutive height suggests. She's on the shorter end of students at Shade Academy with her sandy hair that resembles the desert environment around her strewn into two distinct tails with simple black wrappings. Her bangs are messy, though not unkempt. Her eyes are brown as well, though a scar runs down her right eye from a past altercation. She always appears to have one or two distinct expressions: one of amusement or one of annoyance. She is not stoic like the majority of her family.

---
Aliases / Nicknames
Mel
Gender
Femme
Age
16
Kingdom of Origin
Vacuo
Race
Human
History
Caramelle is the youngest daughter of famed huntsman, Walnus Tawne and retired huntress Hunie Merigold.

Caramelle's childhood was situated going from place-to-place, always on the move after her father's untimely death by a rogue huntress when she was eight years old. Her mother took her and her older sister, Aes, from settlement to settlement as she tried to fill the void. Jobs were scarce, but her mother used to be a huntress so money wasn't too troubling to find, though food came and went. There were days when there wouldn't be enough food in the household and her sister would find ways to fill the void while their mother was out working.

Caramelle was eight years old and her entire world had been taken from her. Her father had taught her about the huntsman academies, the responsibility against the Grimm, and the glory of protecting Vacuo from whoever tried to impose their will upon it. Every time he came home from collecting another bandit's feather in his cap he would tell her a story, a fairytale about a cool huntress and the things she'd do. After the funeral there was no one to tell the stories to her and her sister. There was only the cold corridors of whatever place they were living in at the time. Her mother sold the family home and tried to keep the girls together. Eventually, the reality of being a single parent on menial income hit all three of them and her mother sent the girls packing to her father who was working out of Coquina. Neither girl would see their mother again for years, only receiving their allowance with a conjoined letter in the mail.

Oleum Merigold was not a kind caretaker. That aside, Caramelle didn't know much about her maternal grandfather. He was cold and ruthless in his diction and how he expected the girls to behave, though he never used physical discipline. The passing of his wife some years ago had left him bitter and solitary, though he earned a decent wage working out of Oscuro Academy as one of the long-standing instructors. While not students themselves, Caramelle's adventurous and curious nature made her shadow Oleum and his students, musing about weapons and how real huntsman and huntresses got their start at being heroes of Vacuo. Her sister took a passing interest with her, but ultimately it was mostly just her sitting on a rock observing the more outdoors-inclined instruction. Soon enough she found herself proclaiming herself to be a new "huntress recruit" long before she was of age as she annoyed the local townsfolk of Coquina.

There was a lot of yelling. Sometimes older kids trying to put her in her place. Sometimes some thugs who thought the huntsman were too busy at the academy to bother in the town. Caramelle got hurt, but not before her own sister unlocked her aura before her to block the next strike. It would be enough to distract the thugs until a local huntress arrived on the scene and gave the two a lecture. A lecture that would be preceded by their grandfather's own later that same night. A lecture that would lead the old huntsman to begin training them informally until they were ready to join the academy proper—if they really wanted to waste their lives in following in their father's stupid shadow.

Years followed. Caramelle and Aes entered Oscuro Academy. They got their weapon tools and their training. Eventually, it was enough to get them into Shade Academy.

That's where Caramelle's story begins.
Semblance
Known as 'Terra Viribus', throughout the Tawne bloodline, Carobelle's semblance is about redirecting the kinetic energy in the earth into her body to strengthen her body or quicken her reflexes. While her sister uses this in a defensive manner, Carobelle looks to create creative offensive sets. The requirement is clear however that she has to either conserve the energy gathered from the earth or to be standing on the ground with at least one foot to utilize it effectively.
Weapon & Fighting Style
Carobelle wields Gravity's Spiral, dual swords that transform into a dual automatic revolvers.

In terms of how she uses it within her fighting style, she prefers the close combat forte of Gravity's Spiral's melee form, though when she needs to fight from range she does so with rapid succession rather than slow precise strikes. This is extended to when she's using the melee form of the dual swords, relying mostly on a flurry of speed as opposed to how her sister uses her weapon with precision and strength.
Strengths & Weaknesses
* Talented Weapons Combatant and Melee Fighter.
* Brave and Headstrong, capable at taking on enemies and adapting as the battlefield requires.
* Keen battlefield awareness, though hindered by impulsive decision-making.
* Visual learner; effective at learning from enemies and allies fighting styles by seeing it.
* Capable of following orders despite personality issues.
* Informal huntress training from age nine to fourteen and formal training at the combat school known as Oscuro Academy; making her a more refined combatant than those who are newer to the skillset.

* Arrogant and Brash, leading to impulsive and insensitive decisions.
* Prefers speed over power and precision; resulting in sloppy maneuvers.
* Not book smart; struggles paying attention to technical data not presented like folktales.
* Aura abilities are unlocked but only as the baseline level.
* Does not trust or particularly work well with others. Is standoffish.
* Paranoid. Will need character building and organic friendships to get past her trauma.

Fatal Flaw
Caramelle's greatest weakness is her paranoia. Compounded with her own prescient smug arrogance and attitude it leads the young huntress to make not only short-sighted and impulsive decisions but also refuse to trust people. She constantly suspects her peers are enemies-in-waiting, people who will pull out a knife and plant it into her back once it is profitable and convenient to do so. Her loud, prickly nature is a defense mechanism that certainly will make more enemies than allies.

[User]
---

This was Rio's first battle against the Grimm. No fantastical story or training dummy could have ever prepared him for the rush of adrenaline that he had felt just now. The tactics of teammates and his own quick trigger finger had seemingly won them the fight. No one was visibly hurt and, after inspecting himself for bite marks, he could include himself in that count. Yet, his heart was still racing even as the creatures in front of him started to dissolve from their fierce, monstrous figures into a shapeless ooze that looked like it belonged at the bottom of a saloon spit bucket.

A sigh of relief would soon escape Rio's tensed body as it became clear that they had repelled the initial wave of Grimm but his fingers were still frozen in place as he gripped his weapon. Instead of easing his hold, his hands merely kept shaking even as he actively made an effort to relax. Soon enough, he had resorted to a few full breaths but this would come to a halt upon hearing Nivea's caution against the apparently toxic air. In his sudden panic, Rio instinctively covered his nose with his right forearm while rummaging through his pockets with his free hand for the kerchief that his mother prepares for his daily wardrobe. At least his vise on The Boatman's Due had loosen.

Finally covering his mouth with his makeshift mask, Rio had to focus and inform his companions on the strict timetable that his Semblance had given him. "I'm all fer sticking away from walls but we need t' move if we wanna catch 'em." Protected by the thin strip of fabric and against the caution of their handler, Rio would take another deep breath to focus in on the runaway targets. A clayish rouge of energy would manifest and envelop itself around him as the distant pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the unlit distant ground of the abandoned bunker became as thunderous as a roaring river to the Huntsman-in-training. "My Semblance is tellin' me that they're less than a click away - I'll resume takin' point."

Again, Rio's impatience would not wait for any possible objections from his team. They had a mission that needed to be accomplished and standing around this dark pit waiting to get ambushed again was not gonna get results. He would resume his earlier brisk pace once more, advancing towards the darkness in pursuit of the Grimm he managed to mark earlier.

[Assistant]
Saffron Rupalfeather

---

With the Grimm on the retreat, Saffron was satisfied that she had done an efficient job defending her side of the intersection - with Rio helping, of course. It definitely wasn't an easy battle, however; Whilst she had a little experience fighting the Grimm within primarily controlled training environments, the real thing definitely told her that despite how realistic the trainings had been at Signal they had definitely been holding back. The Signal Grimm had been fierce, but out in the real world, Grimm were ferocious. And whilst she was proud that she had managed to hold back the Grimm with her teammates, Saffron was also relieved about that fact. Hopefully things continued to be as successful as they were now.

Saffron's eyes fixed upon a corpse of one of the fallen Grimm, observing the black smoke that was rising from it. Whilst it was interesting, the Faunus took care to follow Nivea's advice and try not to breathe in the smoke. Though, within a closed environment like this, Saffron wondered if it would soon become impossible to avoid doing so. She could see why Huntsmen would have such a problem clearing a nest, particularly in even more dangerous environments than this one. If they happened to get locked in by the degraded environment, either by collapse or mechanical failures in places such as this, she wondered what the consequences be, if it wasn't an ending of death.

Taking a glance to Kohaku as she spoke, Saffron offered the girl a nod of agreement. "Good call," Saffron replies, shuffling herself to be more along the centreline of the room. She was, however, bothered by Rio's sudden wish to press on at speed - and slightly bothered by the fact that he was telling them that the Grimm were less than a click away. "Less than a kilometer? How big is bunker anyways?" She asks, starting to face Nivea, before reconsidering and turning back to the front. "Never mind, I don't want to know." She adds, starting to pursue Rio, mostly so that he wasn't running off on his own ahead of them.

[User]
---

---

The return of silence wasn't exactly comforting--Fiona half expected something else to jump out at them if they dropped their guard for even a second. Fiona backed away from the black smoke, double-checking her ammo. She did her best to be as efficient as possible, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't wasted a few shots. The Grimm moved faster than she anticipated; she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. The last thing she wanted was to end up being a burden on the team. Or worse--she'd end up being the weak point.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as a strong guest of wind blew away the smoke. Letting out a sigh of relief, she figured she should get her head back in the game. "Thank you, Kohaku," Fiona thanked her first and foremost. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Rio was eager to take point again, with his semblance revealing that there were, of course, more Grimm. She seemed to have the same thought as Saffron as the girl expressed curiosity on how big the bunker was.

"Regardless of the distance, it's best to stay on guard," She decided to remind them, taking her spot after Saffron. "This bunker seems to have been built some time ago, so there should still be a distance before reaching the depths of where the Grimm would house themselves."

After a brief pause of thought, she added, "Whatever Rio senses is likely a wandering group. Let's stay in formation as we proceed."

---

[Assistant]
Caramelle rolled her eyes as Turq and Veloce went on to explain why they wanted to become a huntsman.

Power. Strength. Money. Travel. A bunch of trivial reasons as far as she could tell, though Veloce's story about owing a debt to a huntsman was at least half-admirable. She wondered what the other member of their group would say, though frankly, she was only slightly curious about the reasoning behind it. The brown-haired girl raised a brow as she mused over her own thoughts. Was it really their business that being a huntsman was something that ran in her family? All they need to knew was she was a huntsman because she was a huntsman.

"Does it even matter?" She groaned, "I'm a huntress because I'm good at it. Who cares?"


[System]
AGE: 18
SIZE: 5'

ABSTRACT: A tomboyish and adventurous orphan girl, who loves fighting and finding artifacts.

APPEARANCE:

DETAIL:
History: Sera's history is fairly short, since not a lot happened since her parents died when she was 8. So she had to fend for herself starting that age. Out of necessity Sera learned how to fight and to loot nearby ruins and other islands for valuables to sell.

Personality: For the most time, Sera is quite the tomboy, not seeming to be interested in "girly" things, whatever they actually are, and loves to challenge people, even if it is just verbally. She can get get quite vocal and cheeky at that, too. But in the end, if you get to know her well enough, she might warm up to you enough to be nice.

EQUIPMENT:
-Her glider
-Her "Combat Lance", aka, her trusty wooden stick
-Bag for looted goodies

[User]
Holding the ring up to the light Lee smiled to herself as she watched the rays of sunshine dance over the band. It was a job well done. Standing, she made her way to the back of the shop again to put the ring away in a safe place. People and their sticky fingers were a danger in her line of work. Thankfully she'd only had one incident of theft last year, the circlet returned safely after the person was apprehended. Lee found rather sad that some people resorted to stealing rather than working on whatever they were good at, perfecting those skills and turning them into good honest work. Or at least work that wasn't stealing. Either way, the incident prompted her to get some more solid security when it came to storing finished products, sharp thorns and little scratchy wires covering the entirety of the containers where finished projects were stored. Lee wore gloves and gently wrapped each object in soft cloth before tucking them tightly under the large bundles. It wasn't the best method but the thief would walk away with scratches on their hands for sure if they didn't wear thick leather gloves.
Just as Lee did just that, slipping the covered ring beneath the bundles, she heard voices outside the shop. Near it at least. So she gathered up the gems and tools she'd be using for decorating the hair ornament and made her way back to the front. Midway there she found herself giggling under her breath as she heard parts of something that sounded like a somewhat irked ramble. Lee sat down and spread her instruments out on the large ledge, hands and face bathed in the warmth of the day as she started to work, positioning the gems in certain places then moving them around, trying to see which combination would look best. The woman became so engrossed with her work that when she heard her name she nearly jumped out of her skin, eyes flying up to find it was just Gaius. She raised a hand and smiled brightly. "Morning!" There hasn't been any time to say anything else. The man seemed to be on his way to something important anyway, Lee thought as she watched him go before returning to her work. She had seen Gaius around often enough. The man who he'd been conversing with however, she didn't. Lee was good with faces and names but that didn't mean she knew a lot of people personally.

[Assistant]
Nikki shifted her weight, sending her glider into a tight banking turn. She'd done a minor task for someone earlier, and earned a bit of money, and there were probably other things she /could/ do, but she wasn't in the mood. Instead she was soaring over town, looking for something interesting to get involved in. The wind flowing around her was invigorating, and she angled into a dive, picking up enough speed that she was able to execute a loop, or at least the closest to one she'd ever managed so far. It came off more like a stall into a flip, but the sensation of weightlessness at the top was exhilarating and far made up for the awkward appearance of the trick.

A glint of armor caught the girl's eye as she leveled out again. Was that...? It was! Gaius, and it looked like he had his hands full with Forrest. Nikki let out a peal of laughter, and circled lower. Poor Forrest, he actually let the knight catch up with him again? Seemed like he'd been caught in the act, instead of deliberately raising the alarm after successfully obtaining whatever he'd been after. It was no good getting seen if you didn't have enough of a head start to go on a nice chase, after all. Not that she hadn't slipped up enough to be grabbed quickly herself on multiple occasions, but that was far less /fun/.

As she spiralled overhead, watching the scene play out below, Nikki cracked up again as Eli in his glider nearly bowled Gaius over. His might be faster than hers -- not that she'd ever admit it -- but hers was lighter and far more maneuverable. If she wanted pure speed, all she needed to do was dive. Oh, but she'd have to tease him about that near miss later~! Something about knocking over tin cans, perhaps?

She let the thought flit away for later consideration, as Gaius's path met up with someone else she enjoyed giving a hard time. Blank! No sooner did she catch sight of him than she was flipping herself into a roll to change direction and lining up her approach. Then she dove down, down, down, pulling up /just/ in time and flipping the lever that let her glider's wings collapse to the main body. That allowed her to drop to the ground neatly a mere yard or two from the other teen, landing a bit harder than she intended but she was used to that by now and just grunted a bit. Straightening up with a bright smile, she sauntered over to fall in next to Blank. "Where ya heading?" Nikki asked him, completely ignoring Gaius's less-than-pleased reaction to the second low-flying glider in a short span of time.

[User]
Forrest Everfree

Forrest couldn't help but grin when the giant guard, Gaius started to berate him, it was so much fun to torment the ol' tin can when ever he gets into trouble it kind of became its own game of causal annoyance. Suddenly the tight grip on his hand loosen and it limply fell to the ground, which caused Forrest to winch and look up at Gaius with a raised eyebrow, he then lectured that he will not carry his sorry ass down to the Prison, luckily for Forrest his ass wasn't sorry and he could just return to Tiffany and take the candy that's problaly in the trash since he got his greasy hands on it. And amusingly enough Gaius tried to intimidate him with the topic of the other guards, who are honestly only half as amusing as Gaius and all of who have sticks up their butts, heck Forrest always assume that if they don't have their swords they just beat people to death with their butt sticks. Heh, butt sticks.

Forrest was interrupted of his important thoughts about the might weapons of Heron when a kid flew far to low and almost knocked off the Giant's head, which Forrest always assumed was his helmet since he never seen him without it, even if he was standing up, Forrest wouldn't be worried about being hit by low flyers, by the time they could land on him they would already be on the ground. What he was saying is, he's short.

Forrest snickered softly as he watches the Giant go onto his hands and knees to dodge the kid's glider, which honestly was a nice stance to see the guard in. Very humorous to see. Forrest finally got up from his Rag-doll routine and dusted off any dirt that accumulated from the dragging and spontious show. Gaius stood up himself, it was always jarring how tall the guard was compared to him, as he was reached slightly below Gaius' shoulders, even though the latter isn't that much older then the former but from height alone the thief would look like a kid compare to the giant. Gaius quibbled saying that at least Forrest isn't dangerous like that kid was, was that kid's again? Elle? Ellie? Eli, that's it. But the subject matter was that if Forrest ever reached that level of inconvenience Gaius would gladly throw him in jail, which caused Forrest to glare and stick out his tongue at him childishly before running off to the opposite direction.

After a few minutes of sneaking past suspicious glares from both patrons and customers in the market place he went past the regular old apothecary he visits whenever he gets hurt with a cut or something, and he quickly walked past a pair of kids talking to each other. Not far past them was a cliff to the side that has a long drop to a lower island that leads towards the Library a place he likes to hang out when not hanging out at home or 'collecting' loose items that people drop at the market place.

Forrest took a deep breath and readied himself then he suddenly started sprinting to the cliff and at the last second he jumped off with full force to cross the distance of the two islands, as Forrest was hurtling across the air he could hear the relaxing sound of the wind running though his ears and his full pockets rattling as gravity did it's job, it was like nirvana to be falling out of the sky without a glider but like all good dreams, they have to end, particularly this dream, due to the fact that the ground was coming at him at break neck speeds quite literally the case if he doesn't land it properly. Luckily for him he has landed this a hundred times and he will do it another hundred more. There is a tree a few dozen meter above the ground on the side of the cliff that is strong enough to hold his weight and not just that it is bendy enough to make him land safely and with only a few splinters and a couple cuts, which is a lot better deal then a few broken limbs and bones. But you must asking. Why? Why does he do this? And why he does it you will know. Its fun. That's all.

And he does just that, he wrapped his arm around the trees thin trunk and the tree bends downwards to the ground to catch his weight and when its practically bending at a 90 degree angle, Forrest let go and after a short drop of five feet he made it safely to the other island without a glider or a cable car. Only with a bunch of bravery and a dash of stupidity. Well maybe more like a cup of stupidity, but now it's time to hang out at the library, which is only a few meters away from his current location of an angry gardener's back yard. How does he know the gardener angry? Well... she's screaming at him to get lost before she gets the guards, which Forrest promptly does. To the Library. Which is not a few hundred feet away. This plan is not well thought out.

[Assistant]
Blank let out a silent breath, resigning himself to give up on training today as Nikki litterally fell into step next to him.

"I was planning to train with the royal guards, but I assume I'll have to put that off till tomorrow once you convince me to join whatever hare brained scheme you've just cooked up." His hand darted out, poking her in the ribs before he continued. "It's not like I can stay behind. If I'm not there to get you out of trouble, who knows what would happen?" He smirked slightly.

For all his halfhearted complaining, Blank actually enjoyed Nikki's adventures. Every time they explored a new wild island or cave, something pulled at the edges of his memory, like reliving a familiar experience. He had never actually remembered anything, but he felt like it was close. Besides, of everyone on the island, he was closest to Nikki. She had been the first one to make him open up.

"So? Do I need to get my glider today?"

[User]
Chewing on her last slice of bread Sera checked her leather bag one more time. Yup, everything in there. This was it, her last straw. If she didn't get enough money from the artifact she was carrying in her bag right now to finance another artifact recovery operation, she was done for. It'd be back to collecting food scraps for her, something she didn't need to have to do since her 12th birthday. It seemed like all the close ruins had been picked dry by somebody else.
She knew of Tivo more or less hanging around the ruins all the time, but as far as Sera knew, he wasn't in it for the money.
In her time as scavenger, she had run into him from time to time, but mostly ignoring his presence as much as possible. To disturb Sera's work was to disturb her income.
Now, though, it seemed dire. With a long, drawn out sigh, Sera stared at the trinket in the bag. It was a golden goblet, engraved with a depiction of some event. Sera was no specialist, but she assumed it described a coronation, so she hoped it was worth at least a little. Maybe even to the royal family.
"Well, then... Let's go and meet fate...", she muttered as she shouldered the leather bag.
Sera exited her small house, which she bought a few years ago to stay off the street, lying at the border of Heron. She adored the swung roof and the slightly isolated location on top of a little hill with a perfect view to the marketplace.

Slowly Sera strolled down the dirt pathway down the hill until it became cobblestone, she bee-lined for her favourite trader.
"Good morning, Sera. Got something for me?", he yelled as soon as he saw her. More or less, he owed Sera most of his fortune, so he was quite thankful to her and always excited to see her.
"Yeah. Can you give me a good estimate for this?"
Sera took out the trinket and placed it on the trader's table.
Said trader aaahhh'd and ooohhh'd at the sight of the trinket. "This is really good. Have you kept that in a hidden stash until now?"
Sera shook her head. "I'm out of money, so this is my last one.", she confessed.

A bit later, Sera, now a lot more happy than in the morning sat down on a bench munching a sweet pie she had bought with the money she had just gotten. This seemed to have been the best loot she had ever sold, so she was quite eager to celebrate, but after this, it was back to shopping for food to equip her next scavenging trip. But for now, she chewed happily on the pie.


[System]
Age: 16
Grade: 5
Nationality: New Holland
Theme: Spider

Appearance: 155cm 50kg

Bio: Blake was born in the island nation of New Holland to unknown parents and was communally raised by the town. It was a land only just now being tamed and finally entering the world stage. The colonization efforts were hard, but once a foothold was established the harsh country became a wonderland for scientists and artists alike to make a name for themselves documenting the new flora and fauna to be found. Red soil stained the deserts and rich green forests littered the coastline. A veritable rainbow birds speckled the air with their pigments and although taming was the only appropriate word for what was happening to New Holland the harshness of any area beyond the coastline coupled with fauna that had an almost unnatural tendency towards poison made a true taming of the land a distant dream.

It was in this land that Blake grew as an artist, depicting the wonders of the land around her, the exploits of those who ventured into the land and the treasures they brought back. Seeing the blossoming talent, the townsfolk felt that Blake would have better prospects outside of the frontier town they were and petitioned for her to go to Saint Hirst Academy. It had nothing to do with the Madame from the brothel commissioning Blake to make advertisements for her establishment. However it was only once she was admitted into Saint Hirst Academy that Blake found her muse.

Sample Post: The warm glow of the sun cresting the horizon lit the silhouette of a shorter girl sitting at an easel. Legs not reaching the ground from her stool, the sound of charcoal scratching over paper in a slow arching motion lightly filled the air around her. Looking over the newly illuminated landscape, Blake quickly finished up her rough sketch before taking out the water colour paints and adding the golden light at the top splayed and washing over the emerald ground, rippling like silken sheets.

Eyes staring at her latest masterpiece, Blake added two red orbs, those eyes that pierced her heart. Looking at the painting you would see only the vaguest hint of the landscape before her. Instead you would see was an image that would make a rock blush. A golden-haired beauty sprawled under green silken sheets, the 'hills' nearly cresting out of the sea of green.

"Another gift for my muse~" letting the air dry the water colours a little more before putting the image away. Dashing back up to the dorms to compare her work to the real thing, something she knew she couldn't compare to.

Extras: Blake has a sketch book full of images of her muse. Said muse is completely aware of the sketch book, since Blake will shove a new drawing under her nose each day. That said, Blake will gladly paint a portrait of you… maybe with some creative liberties when it comes to poses.

[User]
Nadalena Kofenstein

---

Dining Hall, Saint Hirst Academy for Fine Ladies

---

Why was she shouting? Why was she invading her space? Why was she being unabashedly uncouth?

As Tilia took Nadalena's hands like a common peasant, the raven-haired princess felt the urge to jolt her hand out of the girl's clutches. But it was better to correct them and be tolerant in situations like this, or at the very least such courtesies were what were taught at the academy. Despite her worst impulses, Nadalena maintained her friendly demeanor before her hand was released. Tilia would learn, she was sure of that. Many students had come to the academy without etiquette in the past and she would be no different in being educated and corrected by the instructors.

"My hobbies are rather solitary and boring, to be honest." She replied as the subject shifted to her.

It was a common fact that Nadalena, despite attempting to participate in clubs and communal activities had a track record of not finding them favorable. In the previous year her roommate had called her bookish and reticent, though such criticisms were not entirely incorrect. She enjoyed reading above all else and certainly did not like discussing the merits of a text so she had rarely sought out any communal discussion group about them. There were other hobbies she found interesting such as orthodox fencing, classical composition, and bookkeeping, though they were all interests she preferred to be solitary and without an audience or partner. The only time she found herself slightly interested in another person's opinions and perspective was with Maya Enilsdottir during the brief time they shared a club.

"But if you wish to know, I enjoy literature, scripture, logistics, economics, and musical theory. I've also found some interest in orthodox fencing on occasion. Not really exciting interests to many."

[Assistant]
Seyrun Riviathan

---

---

St. Hirst Academy, Dining Hall, Midday

"Well now, Nadia, if I knew you appreciated fencing, I would have officially invited you to Our tournament. While the arms of Nordland will always be open to embrace any of my fellow schoolmates, you'll always be a special case. Actually, when was it that we have last been in a formal party together? It feels like it was ages ago. Doesn't even looks like we are both princesses of neighboring nations," Seyrun declared with excitement, Going as far as using majestic plural to address the other princess not in her name, but as Nordland itself. A few well-timed gestures were added here and there to make her flattering of Nadalena even more dramatic. What the tomboyish girl lacked in class, when compared with Nadalena's pedigree, she excelled in charm. Or at least showmanship.

Seyrun laughed a bit after her flamboyant display. This lunch was indeed being the best event of the day by far. What turned it even better were the looks some of the other students gave her. A place such as this, when she could as free as she wanted was certainly the favorite of Seyrun. Anyway, as soon as a small break in the conversation allowed her to address the hanging threads, left by Sina and Tilia.

"Well, I surely will consider your offer. Especially, if it means to spend more time in the company of someone as gracious as you, Miss Segert. In fact, I may as well not mind a thousand years of imprisonment," Seyrun replied to Sina's tease about the detention joke. She wasn't even joking completely. Being sent to detention was going to be a novelty. Seyrun certainly wondered what kind of punishment they had there.

"You don't need to worry, Miss Fitzgerald. I heard enough of you already and certainly know that I'll appreciate your company as well. I like the, hmm... spirit of the Columbian people and you are certainly every bit as boisterous and amicable as I'd expect," Seyrun said to Tilia. A gracious smile decorated her face as the Nordic girl adapted her behavior with preternatural skill, sailing the social waters like a well-seasoned captain sails the brave seas.

---

[User]
Tilia Fitzregald

---

Tilia listened excitedly to Nadalena's reply, still oblivious to the gothic girl's distaste of her. Tilia was never that good at reading subtle social cues. She was always a bolsterous one so she was never good at social gatherings of upper class ladies that could insult others without actually insulting them. That was why her companion ended up being mostly of the middle and lower class back at home.

"But if you wish to know, I enjoy literature, scripture, logistics, economics, and musical theory. I've also found some interest in orthodox fencing on occasion. Not really exciting interests to many."

...Crap, I'm bad at all of those, Tilia thought to herself. What should I do? Should I just pretend I'm good at them? The literature, music, and fencing clubs should still be recruiting...

Before she could answer, Seyrun suddenly interrupted, saying her interest in fencing also. So there was a tournament in her country, and she invited Nadalina to join. Oh, if only she could fence. She had a fantasy of "accidentally" slicing open the opponent's clothes, exposing her bra and panties. But she knew that was just a fantasy. She was pretty sure that fencing swords were dull since it was just a sport after all.

"A-ah, I see... that's great!" Tilia nervously replied to Nadalena. "Unfortunately, I am not that good at any of those..." she said while scratching her head.

At Seyrun's reply to her, she said, "Glad to hear that, Seyrun-senpai!" as she shook her hands. "I'll make sure to be your good friend! If you need anything, feel free to ask!

@Inkarnate

[Assistant]
Amelia sighed with relief once she finally reached her room. It had been such a long day and she was already a bit tired but she knew she didn't have much longer until the day was over. Entering her room, she saw that her supposed roommate was not there at the momentand took this opportunity to examine her new abode. As to be expected, it was a lavish place, filled with the kind of décor she could only dream of having back home. This thought caused her to stop for a second to reflect on her journey here.

The first part of her trip had been relatively uneventful. Traveling by ship from the United States of New Columbia over to Europa, since there was no one she knew and she didn't seen anyone she thought was going to Saint Hirst as well. Once she was off the ship, she had to find her way from the docks to the train station, which had been a nightmare since communication was a bit complicated due to both her disability and the language barrier. Luckily for her though, she had managed to catch the train just in time and from there it was a one way trip to the Dukedom of Sabrie. While on the train, she had met several of her soon to be classmates but she had been too shy to try and 'talk' to them, fearing how they might react to her being a mute. As a result, she had mostly kept to herself and in her little section of the train for the long trip, only getting up when she needed to or to stretch her legs after she had been sitting for too long.

When the train finally stopped at her destination, she remembered feeling equal parts fearful and nervous. She had been excited because she was finally at this school that only the rich or a select few got to attend. She was nervous since she felt like a fish out of water and completely isolated and like she didn't really belong. Despite her fear though, she got off the train and joined her fellow students in milling about the school as their things were taken to their rooms, Amelia finding it difficult to separate herself from her belongings despite knowing she would get them back. In the time between their arrival and the welcoming ceremony, she had wondered the school with no particular destination in mind, ending up a bit lost but still managing to make it to the assembly in time.

She had tried to say awake during the assembly but ultimately she, like many others, had failed to keep interest and found her mind wandering to her insecurities again. When it was finally over, she was snapped out of her thoughts by the stampede of students going to get their room assignments. She was one of the last to get hers and she had bowed respectfully to the teachers who had given them to her as a sign of respect before making her way to her room, getting delayed due to getting lost again.

Bringing herself back to the present, she moved over to her belongings and went through them, making sure everything was there before getting up and leaving the room. Eventually, she would find her way to the dining hall but she stopped just outside of it by the doors. Her nervousness was getting the better of her again and she hesitated to enter the room, unsure of what exactly lay beyond and more then a little scared of meeting her peers.

[User]
Nadalena Kofenstein

---

Dining Hall, Saint Hirst Academy for Fine Ladies

---

Nadalena was going through her mind how long it had been exactly since the two royals had occupied the same social gathering. It was certainly a decent amount of time; though it was unsurprising it had been relatively long ago considering Nadalena's disdain for certain groups of people and interacting with them despite never showing her true nature to her schoolmates and peers. The polite (and open) gesture of inviting Nadalena to a tournament in Nordland was something she chose not to dismiss, though the truth of the matter was that she never really cared for spectacles and tourneys. She kept eye contact with Seyrun as she replied to the inquiry.

"It has been some time, I suppose. There was the royal visit to Nordland last year—though I suppose formalities are different than informal gatherings. We could count last year's celebrations that were held before our senior classmates headed off to university proper, perhaps?" The raven-haired girl mused.

[Assistant]
When Rufie got onto the subject of Dana's punishment and the toothbrush-ing of wash spaces, Blake couldn't resist chiming in.

"Don't forget that Dana would probably use your toothbrush~!" when Dana mentioned the modern cut of the student president's outfit Blake ran a finger down the seams, innocently tracing up from Dana's waist to her chest and feeling the hidden strain of the fabric. As Rufie revealed Dana's punishment, Blake's eyes shone with glee.

"Oh, don't worry! I'm such a good friend that I don't mind sharing in the slightest. Although I feel it may be a tight squeeze, I'm sure you won't mind~" her grip gently tightened around Dana as she spoke, head still on Dana's shoulder as they made their way into the canteen. Releasing as they entered, Blake skipped over to grap a meal.

"Now let's see what we can get away with while having a bite to eat." Blake looked Dana in Rufie's uniform up and down, taking in the colour palette, and having a practiced eye look at the food on display. Pasta sauce stains so wonderfully, the colour is often darker and more muted though. Egg dishes have a good colour, but unless the yolk is still runny it won't stain too well. Pumpkin soup? Could work, a vibrant colour, plus she could use the heat as an excuse to be more enthusiastic with Dana, and Dana loves orange.

The thickness could cake into the fabric nicely, meaning simply wiping it off would be less useful. Even better if cream is stirred in... leaving me and Dana an excuse to raid Rufie's wardrobe! I wonder what PJs she brought along? Probably something frilly I bet. losing herself in a daydream momentarily, Blake selected her meal, precariously balanced the bowl of soup in one hand and playfully 'lost her balance' before catching herself and winking at Dana, not a drop spilled as she walked backwards and grabbed a small bread roll.

"So, shall we eat~?"


[System]
Species: human
Age: 23
Occupation: graphic designer, freelance artist on the side

Personality: Rey is a sweet man, very concerned with the wellbeing of others. He's shy, preferring to listen rather than talk when confronted with new people. He's rather sheltered.

History: Rey always knew he wanted to be an artist. And yet there's something missing, a blandness that just won't go away. He's happy with his life...isn't he?

[User]
A low drawn-out whistle followed as Jessamine skipped down the hallway. Sitting directly behind Xell and Rey was Crispin Ocelot, a face that stood out only because he was the only one in that office wearing a hat. (There was of course the anthromorphic lizard he was sitting behind, shadowing him and learning the ways of the code - but he focused hard on his computer like every other drone in that building.) The young cat's eyes followed the squirrel until she was just about out of sight. "Kinda cute though, isn't she?"

"Do you ever. Shut. Up."

"I mean she's got the right kinda mindset. Maybe a bit too much, but I think-"

"Look." The reptile's typing came to a complete stop, catching Crispin's attention back from Jessamine. "Do you want to learn how to do this or not."

A few seconds of silence passed by before the lizard resumed typing. Crispin slowly scratched the back of his head. "Not your type, I take it?"

The lizard explained here and there which commands performed what function, and occasionally asked Crispin simple questions to confirm that he was understanding the algorithms. Which he wasn't, for the most part, but hey, fake it 'til you make it. This continued for some time, until Crispin's watch buzzed. On cue, the ocelot reached into his jacket's pocket and plucked out an orange bottle. As he went to twist open the bottle-

"Hey! I asked you a question, Ocelot!"

The sudden jump in the lizard's voice startled Crispin - he fumbled with the bottle in hand and, pretty much in slow motion, watched it drop to the ground and roll away. And since the cap had been loosened... a few pills had rolled out.

"Ah... ahaha, excuse me a moment."

He pounced from his chair to the floor and scrambled to pick up the spilled tablets, then charged for the bottle, which had rolled over to the desk next door. Xell and Rey's desk.

Suddenly he popped up onto his feet beside them, a gleaming smile in his face as he held the remaining dropped pill between his fingers. "Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

What the ocelot didn't know was that he had inadvertently grabbed Xell's pills that had spilled by his feet. And he was fairly close to reaching for his water flask to down it.

[Assistant]
Level 72, reception area

Zach was left wide eyed and mouth ajar within the femme squirrel's embrace. Mind unwilling, soul remained.
Quickly gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyebrows impetuously, his synaptic impulses told him to reach out and snap the squirrel's neck in half; like a withered twig.
Before he was able to pursue his animal instinct- he almost tumbled over as the squirrel spun and slipped away with excitement.
As he flailed ridiculously, he reached out for something to steady himself!
The nearest entity he was able to grasp was the fire extinguisher. Strongly secured by bracing on the wall.

With that action, his knees barely buckled before he was able to hoist himself back up again. Flicking his head back to get the long silver hair out of his eyes. He continued to steady himself upon the halon containing steel canister. Feeling the cold steel beneath his finger tips as the rage burnt from within.

She was a problem. Too much free reign, non compliant, unrealistic, ditzy...
What was worse, Zach had smelt a rat since the worker girl stepped through with a dainty foot in this building. Almost like she was masquerading the joint like a ballroom dancer- but why exactly had she attended? This workplace was hardly meant for a dance, or fun for that matter! Furthermore, he was outright offended on so many levels.
'Zachy...?!'
Earning the title of a pet name was a punishment that deserved open fire on the spot, Maynard thought with a growl. Surely, she was having a laugh? The incredulity of the incident was outrageous. Did she not grasp the serious nature of being beckoned to the Director's office in any of its entirety at all?

"Childish Mink," he breathed out, exasperated. Naturally he could chase her down. Wipe that pathetic smile off her face.
For he was well equipped with pharmaceuticals far more powerful than what he possessed in pill form. He drummed his fingers upon a loaded cartridge secured within his belt. Gritting his teeth as he tried to process his next action.
Or, there was another way. He was waiting for that moment. Waiting for an excuse. To initiate that process.
He was shaking. Grasping onto the canister that began to make it rattle somewhat. The former background piano music continued to prove itself relinquished.
He turned a cold shoulder to the entrance of the office, and directed his fraught face towards his desk. Eyes set on his computer, where he could 'initiate the process'.

"Zacharias Maynard." A cold voice called out from behind "not yet."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Office

Camera on

Xell blinked morbidly at the events that unravelled before him. It was certainly out of the ordinary compared to what one would anticipate as a typical workforce day. The usual regime of a dreary commute, a cocktail of pill swallowing and coal face typing for 9 hours straight became replaced by some form of life. Namely, his bashful colleague requesting if he could use his computer to render high resolution artwork. The arrival of the smutty fennec who he had recognised from an X-rated photo, and now Crispin. Who he had spoken to once or twice in the past at best. He may have had more opportunities had he been a regular at the Office but somehow, Xell didn't think that that was quite the case. For some reason.

"Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

"Gottem?" Xell queried. The dragon shoved his hands in his pockets whilst he looked to the floors and desks. He had to be talking about some belongings he dropped on the floor right? Maybe a pen, pencil… wallet? And why did he make such a snide remark about the Lizard?

"Oh right, well whatever you retrieved, glad you found it…" Xell grinned sheepishly. A bead of sweat running down his face as he remembered his own careless grasp less than a few minutes ago. He was banking on Rey carrying out his task post haste. Then he could retrieve his pills and stash them away. But then that femme showed up, who Rey was yet to acknowledge. And Crispin.
Was he a chef? A cat chef?
Xell winced as he found it extremely difficult to keep his thoughts on a consistent tangent.
Suffering from concentration problems and anxiety, he needed his dexamphetamines. More so to overcome the garbage he had been dispensed by Zach earlier. What where they? Tranquilisers? Anti depressants? Benzodiazepenes? After all, blue normally means a come down or suppressant. A means to coax a patient into a situation they would question or wouldn't normally accept.
Red or orange one may associated with a stimulant? Seize the day, live life to the maximum. Determination to press on or unravel the truth... right?
Xell was strictly told to take what he was given. Never to mix his poisons.
But....

"Hey sweets… do you wanna pull that pose again? Sure tickled my fancy!" a random voice hollered. Causing an entire row to erupt in laughter. Daring glances with a snigger directed towards Athena, whilst gossip travelled like wildfire.

"Pays the bills," Athena held her own. Paying no mind to the obnoxious crown as she waved a dismissive hand.

"Excuse me… I really… really need to find something…" Xell was getting anxious. He looked around frantically, before pacing up and down the cubicle. Athena sullen and bored by the whole display.

Before the grey dragon could utter another sentence, he couldn't help but stare as he recognised a pill about to be swallowed by the Ocelot who swung by earlier.
One of HIS pills. Orange looking paracetomol like pill with a pink grainy texture. His Adderall!

"Noooooooo…." Xell leapt in the air, hand wound backwards as he was going to attempt to smack the pill out of Crispin's mouth.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Reception

"Hmmm... I thought that may be you..." Zach was kneeled down on the ground in resentment. Having lost his cool as a phantom like presence presumably had witnessed all.

"Well, where else would I be?" The voice replied, a borderline suave but serious tone about it.

A plumage of silver hair draped Zach's face, casting his eyes in shadow just above a gritted expression on his mussel.
"I don't want to play this game anymore." The dog rose swiftly. The urge to storm out of the building a rightful retribution in his mind.

Go, don't stand in contemplation The thought passed Zach's mind.

Maynard froze. Eyes amped with constricted pupils. An assembly of shadowy men immersed from the surroundings.
Goosebumps started to streak through his skin as his fur stood on edge.

The figures had cloaked, scarves up to the orbital floors of their faces which acted as a platform for their thick black shades. Human in appearance, xenomorphic in aura.

"...They're not real," the dog uttered with contempt.

"Oh AREN'T they?" The voice mocked. Tone beckoning the assembly to step forward. Menacing facades gradually closing in upon Zach and the entity behind him.

As they emerged, cracking could be heard from tasers they were holding up.
A sweat drop pooled off of Zach's face and splashed onto the floor. His body hot but beginning to precipitate a cold sweat.

"Am I supposed to believe that just because you got knocked off your perch, that you're going to dwell on the floor with the barrel of a gun in your face?" The figure sneered, immediately replaced by a grin. Performing a quick shot imitation with his middle and index finger that aimed in Zach's direction.

"... that's what they do to sterile chickens."

Zach gave two very slow nods. A gesture of acknowledgement and disgust to conceal his defeat.

His knuckles tightened on either side of his body. A slight turn with the aid of peripheral vision revealed the reckoning standing behind him. A tall coral figure emanating a supernatural aura.
He had long perked vampiric like ears with a suave, dark cerulean parted hairstyle that framed his clean cut face. He doned a set of nature defying toxic green eyes. Irises echoing a sinister sense of arrogance and need to play cat and mouse. His demeanour and attire, clad in a leather jacket and jeans suggested his style to be very similar to the 1950s era.

Zach inadvertently shrunk as he forced himself to turn around to look at him. Like ripping a band aid off an unhealed wound.
The creature's aura was oppressive.
Zach could not even hear the harmonious splashes of the waterfalls anymore. Instead, a monotoned drone that weighed down the atmosphere.

"Aleksei?"

The creature snapped his right set of fingers. A flare igniting which he conveniently used to light up a cigarette. Taking a long drag, before exhaling fumes that rapidly started to smog the vicinity.

"I think you and I should watch the 'flagged ones' on camera. Don't you?" the devil asked "the Director would love to know their names."

[User]
"Not a better computer. Just a better monitor -- and even that took some doing." Rey hadn't even noticed the fallen medication -- or if he had, he opted to say nothing about it. Athena's arrival made him try very hard to focus on his work, rather than the fennec posing at the cubical wall. Jessamine was a cheerful distraction, and Crispin another. It was much easier to ignore Athena who, while pretty, kept pressuring him to draw her and didn't seem to have any intention of paying for the privelage. Between Crispin and Liz, Rey actually found a smile.

"There, I think that'll -- whoa!" Suddenly Crispin dived under Xell's desk, making Rey push himself aside to give him space and nearly topple himself out of his chair. Laughter rang out, and for a moment Rey thought it was at him, but no: someone was heckling Athena. She was more than capable of handling it, at least.

Then Xell leaped at Crispin, and this time Rey did get knocked out of his chair, landing hard on the floor. The dragon was going for a capsule that matched the ones Rey had politely pretended not to notice. Was it Xell's? Was Crispin really oblivious enough not to check the label on the pill, after picking it up from the floor? Best to let the two of them sort it out, though, instead of stepping in himself.


[System]
Role: SWAT

Date of Birth: December 15th, 2002

Height: 5'0

Weight: 103 lbs

Nationality: Cuban

Appearance

Background:

Lily was born and raised in Havana, Cuba. Her parents were one of the wealthier families of the island, some rumors even claiming that they had ties to the government. Being an only child, Lily always had everything she wanted...except for the simple love and affection from her parents. When she was just 10 years old, business brought the family over to Neo Bay. Everything was fine for some time, even though learning the language was a bit of a challenge for her parents, but after a rough start, they finally found their flow. By this point, Lily barely even saw her parents, their absence extending to the weekends as well. On random day at school, a friend of Lily recommended she meet with him and his Master at an old abandoned gym, promising her he'd teach her stuff you could only see in movies. Thus, at the age of 13, she started training in Krav Maga.

From that point on, she met with her friend Carl and of course, Reddick, the one person in the world who she swore took better care of her than her own parents did. He first taught her the basics, then when her skill was up to par with Carl's, the level of difficulty increased for them both. It took a bit of time for them to fully master Krav Maga, but then they went on to learn various other forms of close-quarter combat mixed with some lessons in free-running to shake things up.

After some years, Lily and Carl graduated school. Unfortunately, the next evening, Reddick was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment grew in both Lily and Carl as they days passed and Reddick failed to show every single time. Carl and Lily's friendship slowly faded as well, and with nothing to do on her spare time, Lily turned to crime. She remained undetected for a while, but it was only a matter of time before a rookie mistake cost her her freedom. Upon finding out that their daughter wasn't the perfect little girl they had raised, Ada and Jorge kicked her out of their home. Lily never bothered returning, and instead, focused on how to pull off an even bigger heist while at the same time avoiding the authorities. Many years passed and Lily had only gotten better with her skills. During her mid 20s, she came across some individuals who were holding a tactical training seminar. They were part of some private security firm, and she used this to her advantage by pretending to be interested. She learned quite a bit from these guys, and they saw a very promising future for her so they even offered her extra training only made available to law enforcement. Once she completed her training with the firm, she up and quit without notice or warning and returned to her life of crime. Unfortunately, one dark and stormy evening, she broke into the wrong home. The man standing behind her threatened her to stand still or otherwise meet a terrible fate. Being a smart chick, she froze in place and listened to what he had to say.

Of course, he never turned her in. Instead, he laid out some ground rules after he mentioned he was impressed with her personal abilities. When she asked to clarify, he explained to her how he'd been keeping an eye on her and simply wished to put her talent to better use. She knew his proposal was better than what she had to face if he were to place a quick call, so she agreed. From that point on, she was signed on as a member of C.O.P.S. and hasn't looked back ever since.

Theme Song: "Supremacy" by Muse

[User]
Valeriya Ilyushin

>Days ago...
Another day in the shop. Another car to fix, though this one was quite flashy. Probably some big city head checking out this father and daughter mechanic shop that he heard of. Not that Valeriya cared at all. Was just another customer. Just so long as he didn't enter the actual shop and see the 'goods' that was her. There had been a few like that. But she only focused on doing the check-up that the customer had asked for. Though she did find it odd that it was only a check-up and nothing more.

That's when she heard footsteps. The type you couldn't ignore. The type of footsteps that come from dress shoes. But kept her face buried in the car, she had a job to do afterall. "Come to check the 'goods'?" She asked in a very bitter fashion. "You flatter me, but no. I come with a proposition-" "Cutting straight to the marriage proposal?" she cut him off, again with a very bitter tone. "No again. Can I finish before you cut me off again?" Valeriya sighed, then nodded, not pulling her head away from the vehicle. "Alright then." The man cleared his throat. "You are Valeriya Ilyushin. Daughter of two immigrant parents, legal immigrants. You were born on Russian soil, and raised right here in Neo-Bay." Valeriya had frozen with what he had already said, but he kept talking. "For most of your early years, you had a pretty normal life as the daughter of a grease monkey. Even helping your father out in the shop. But shortly after your 16th birthday, your life was changed drastically. A boy attacked you, kidnapped you, and beat you near to death. To list a few things." Valeriya spun around quickly as he finished that sentence, a mix of shock and anger on her face "How do you know that about me?!" "Let me finish please. Continuing on. Police found you, many bruises and cuts. Left dozens of scars on your body, you've even got one on your forehead that you hide with your hair. After that event, you took some time to feel the psychological effects of his actions. Then you joined the Youth Army Cadets, the reasons you gave for joining were vague, but no one questioned it. You met Mack Yancy, conversed with him, one of the few that you conversed with while in the Cadets, never became friends, but were acquaintances. But only for a year, as he had graduated with honors. But you were a smart kid yourself, when you graduated, you got honors, and were valedictorian of your class."

He paused. He was taking a draw of his cigarette. But she was quite shocked at how much he knew. After he finished exhaling, he continued to speak his knowledge of her. "After your graduation though, you did not follow Mack into the Police force. Nor did you follow your peers into private firms. You came back here for about a year, until you joined up with the professional racing circuits. Well, that was your most public movement. Underneath that, you drive in underground circuits to further enhance your skill. Along with driving for private firms. You left the racing league after two and a half years, but kept yourself in the underground, and as a freelance driver for the private firms."

"What do you want then?" She asked in a less bitter tone. "I'd like you to join up with a small group of people I'm pulling together. With Mack Yancy as the team leader, though I will be the sort of 'top brass' of the group." He pulled a file out of his suit. "The name's Tim Taggart by the way, but do call me Tim. Here's a file with copies of everyone else involved, as I know you also like to read, so you'll have some new reading material for the next few hours. If you do decide to join up, there are instructions on where to go and when." She took the file and stared at it a bit confused before looking up to see him going through the door that connected the shop to the front desk. Valeriya took a few minutes to let it soak in before finishing her work so she could decide on what to do about this whole situation.

>Present

Dear god! Why was this place so damn far away?! Valeriya was sitting at a red light, looking at the address over and over again. "Well baby girl, lets show this city who owns the streets." She reached for the volume control for the stereo system and cranked it full. Then scrolled through a list of songs, and found a fitting song, and pressed play. All somehow timed well with a green light, and Valeriya floored it. The engine roared with hate. The rear wheels desperately working for traction as thick clouds of white smoke poured from them, along with a loud screeching. She knew she wouldn't have time for going slow. She'd be way too late, and the 'speed limits' were a joke anyway. As she drove, she blazed passed those that were going much slower, and the street lights whizzed by, causing colored pulses on the exterior of her car. Valeryia pushed well into triple digits on the speedometer, pulling high octane drifts around turns, and blazing through stop lights. Weaving through traffic, and squeezing her way through those stopping for red lights. She was the definition of a demon.

Along her path of demonic speeding she found herself rapidly approaching the location, along with a new song playing. "Work with momma on this one." She spoke to the car as she slammed the brakes, causing a very audible screeching from the tires along with smoke spewing from them due to the friction. Though due to her speeds, she slid past the location. So she threw the car into a drift, and slammed on the gas pedal to turn that momentum around. The car's engine was just as quiet as the tires are, in that they were as loud as they could possibly be. Anyone who was sleeping was no doubt abruptly awoken. Once she got the car going in the opposite direction, she drove back to the location, then pulled an unnecessary drift to put the car onto the correct side of the street to park, accompanied by a unneeded engine rev, letting the whole area know how angry her car was. Valeryia sat inside her car for a few seconds before turning it off and stepping out.

She entered the building, found the apartment number and knocked. Once Craig answered, she just pushed past. The smell didn't bother her. She'd inhaled worse. Same with the sights. Her work station at the shop wasn't the cleanest, and yet she worked better than most mechanics in a clean shop. Her face and clothes were fresh with the marks and smells of working on engines. So if anything, she just added to the mixture of smells. Valeryia spotted Mack, but that was the only familiar face.

[Assistant]
"I thought you went off the record after that most recent gang bust. I would have thought you were in danger with the underbosses looking for revenge....Tim got you involved in this, what does he want with us two?"

Collin pushed the brim of his ballcap up a bit with one index finger, revealing more of his face. His green eyes fell on Yancy, and he gave a wry smile at the man's slightly stuttering speech. By the sound, and smell, of him Yancy was either still drunk or just recently sobering up. Collin checked his watch, seeing it as just a bit before midnight. Yea, that sounds about right. Taggart had probably picked him up in the middle of another bender. Being Friday that usually meant lots of teary war stories. Hence why Collin avoided the Red Raven on Fridays.

As Mack continued to look around the room with a look of shock and disorientation Collin spoke up, for only the second time since entering the room. Blowing out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils he addressed the distressed ex-cop.

"I did go underground, and thought that I did a good job of it too. It's been about 4 years, and yet still somehow that Taggart found me. I don't like it, but the offer he gave was a little too good to just pass up without a second glace," he finished, pulling on the cigarette again and noticing the ember was just about to the filter. He stubbed the butt out and watched as another person entered. That would make seven, and the small female that looked uncomfortable and shy could be none other than Miss Valeriya Ilyushin. Her file, like most of the others, was lacking in their background, but he knew that she was the driver of this group. She had a string of racing awards under her belt, as well as plenty of time under the hood of a car. His appraisal of the new arrival was interrupted by Hobbes pulling a gigantic trunk into the living space.

When the huge box was opened, even Collins stoic demeanor cracked as he gave a low whistle. Hobbes and Taggart had somehow smuggled what equated to a small arsenal inside the box. It was stuffed with weapons of all different types, and Hobbes hefted a long rifle towards Packard. The weapon looked mean and military grade, though Collin had absolutely no idea what it was. It didn't look like anything he had seen on the streets before, let alone anything he had seen any of the various PMC forces carrying in Neo-Bay. His question was answered when Hobbes mentioned that the custom rifle had been stolen from the Japanese, meaning that it was likely a secret prototype the Japs had been developing. He took another sip of the whiskey, but set it down behind him in order to keep his body between the alcohol and Yancy. The guy didn't look like he needed anything else to drink any time soon.

[User]
The glass was empty by this point, and Lily contemplated getting another drink of whisky. Just as she started to weigh the pros and cons of being even more intoxicated around all these strangers, in walked Craig dragging a container that was surely heavier than he was. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his struggle, although her smile didn't last long once she made out what was in the box. A little lump formed in her throat at the realization that things were becoming very real, rather fast. Her mind now cluttered with too many thoughts, Lily didn't notice someone approaching her until they were right behind her. Craig again...that sneaky bastard. He spoke to her in a hushed tone, and she got a racing pulse once some of his words registered.

"...you are acting commander of this squad..."

She muttered some nonsense reply when he was done talking, even though his words stayed with her. She watched him walk away as if this little announcement wasn't going to have an impact on everyone in the room. Lucky for her, she realized that it wasn't her decision to let the others know, so she kept her mouth shut and just stared in Mack's general direction.

You better sober up quick, she thought, because all this responsibility that was just dumped on me could end tragically for us all.


[System]
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_______________________________________________

Natalie Ellis

_______________________________________________

April 11th | 18 | White

_______________________________________________

Single | ♀ | Bisexual

_______________________________________________

High School Education | Unemployed

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Physical Profile

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//Basics:
 • Height | 5'-5"

 • Weight | 113 lbs

 • Build | Skinny

 • Hair Colour | Black

 • Eye Colour | silver

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Appearance Details

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Natalie looks like a girl who's not wearing much makeup but has very nice skin, and this requires quite a lot of makeup. She didn't choose the 'pale with thick eyeliner' look for aesthetic purposes, but to hide the signs of her past that were prevalent on her face. Her fatigue. Her lack of sleep as a result of two years of little sleep. All things she wants to hide from the world. Her eyes have always been a naturally vivid grey, which aid with her look. Her hair had always been too limp and mousey to maintain well, so when it came time to care about her appearance, she got it cut short, and to a style that fit her new ensemble. She didn't choose anything overtly 'gothic' in her wardrobe as that was not who she was, or what was comfortable to wear. This she wears sweaters, cardigans, vest tops and either jeans or skirts. When it comes to footwear, there are no rules, though if she's wearing a skirt, she will probably wear boots.

Personality

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Natalie is a quiet, frail individual, who shies away from conversations but never comes off as rude or reclusive. She always gives the impression that she wants to talk to you but can't. Though she enjoys her own company, she longs for the feeling of allowing herself to be part of a group. Whenever there's a group at work who want to go out together, she will join them and follow at a distance.

At heart, Natalie is, and has always been, a kind person, who could never bring herself to hurt an innocent person. She likes to think this is still who she is, but her traumatic experiences, as well as her powers, have changed her. She no longer knows exactly how kind she still is, so fearfully avoids ever being in a situation where she might have to find out. Again. She has been officially diagnosed with PTSD and psychotic episodes but Natalie knows that her problems are bigger than that. Her psychosis and her powers are a terrifying mixture. |

Character Synopsis

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Natalie was born with extremely strong bones. These had little to no impact in her life except for possibly making her more reckless and adventurous as a kid. Of course, that was until other children started to find out and she became something of an outcast as a child. She would go out of her way to find other children who also had these 'powers' as she innocently called them. Due to this, most of, of not all of her friends, were online and she developed something of a shut-in life.

Natalie's story could have ended there, but for the evil of men. Many powerful men, some of whom criminals, did not have these superpowers, and wanted them. The amounts of blood money poured into the illegal research of superpowers and how to grant powers to those who would otherwise never have them. And they needed test subjects. Police knew this, and if a child was ever born with, or developed any ind of advanced healing capabilities, they were watched very closely, if not outright detained for their own protection. Natalie's power slipped the notice of suck people. But it didn't slip the notice of Project Lion.

One day when she was sixteen, she was walking hone from school. It's still not known where to this day, but she was kidnapped in broad daylight. Not much is known about what happened to her during the next two years, or about Project Lion, but one day Police raided their facility to find the scientists there had been slaughtered. Some were ripped apart, some had their chests or faces caved in. It was a bloodbath. Twenty miles away, Natalie was found unconscious at the side of the road, covered in blood that tests revealed to belong to the scientists. After being detained, the authorities noted that she now had superhuman strength, and was prone to snapping. When she snapped, at least one bone was broken per attempt by staff to restrain her. However, when she didn't snap, she was observed to be a quiet, polite and kind girl who'd always inquire into the wellbeing of people she hurt with genuine concern. It was decided that the facilities were inadequate to hold her for questioning. Besides, it was fairly obvious what had happened. The decision was made to send her to The Promise.

Abilities & Skills

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//Abiliites:

Super Strength | There are two key, complimentary factors that make up Natalie's power as a whole. One is that she has incredible, superhuman muscle strength. She is able to lift cars above her head with ease, and punch through inches of reinforced steel. The other is related to this, and allows her use her powers without causing injury to herself. The power that she was born with, however, was that she has very strong reinforced bones that can withstand a great deal of impact. Without this ability, punching a brick wall would likely break her arm. With it, she could jump twenty stories and land with no damage to her legs, or stop a moving car with her bare hands.

Limitation(s) | Natalie can comfortably exert enough force to lift 1.5 tons, and can lift 2 tons at a struggle. Her punching and kicking strength are a reflection of this, though she has never tested them to max as the skin on her hands and feet is not any more durable than regular people's. She can easily punch through a brick wall but it would hurt her hand and bloody her knuckles. Her bones can withstand a force of also two tons, not including the force of her muscles acting in an opposite way to the incoming force. If she were to attempt to catch something weighing four tons or more, her bones would break from the impact. Her stamina is decent and ordinary, as she was and still is a recreational jogger. Nevertheless, she has not trained her body for prolonged periods of intense physical strain, so if she were to fight somebody capable of going toe to toe with her from either strength or skill, and they had trained their body for the strain, she would be at a disadvantage on the stamina front, and would run out of breath before them.

Weakness(es) | Natalie is not just an ordinary human besides her muscles and bones, she's of a more frail build than normal. This makes her perhaps more vulnerable than the average person to bruising, internal damage, and any attack that ignores her bone strength, such as being shot or stabbed. She also has ordinary reflexes, and a complete lack of combat expertise, skill, or talent. If she can't rely on her strength alone to win a fight with a more skilled opponent, she will lose unless she can find a lucky opening.

[User]
---

Waiting up in the ductworks gave D more time to think than he thought it would. He was on his back, fingers locked together, legs folded, one foot kicking to an unknown rhythm.

The question he'd asked himself a while ago, and the one other folks would be asking soon enough - why'd he come up here? Five months working on an up-and-coming career as a professional vigilante, vagabond, vagrant, vandal, other words starting with v… and he suddenly puts it all on hold to sneak onboard a shuttle headed to the most sophisticated space station in the history of manmade manufacture.

Really, why?

Because the Promise is a time bomb just waiting to go off. Lots of people down planetside had that gut feeling - it hangs up in the sky over Earth, sometimes beautifully and sometimes menacingly. You think about what kind of parahumans get brought up here - the ones who can blow up whole cities just by flexing their pinkies, the ones who can rip a person's conscious self apart and replace it with their own proxy intelligence, or even the ones who can rend space and time apart. Who doesn't feel an overwhelming sense of dread come over them while thinking about what kind of horrible things are up here?

Well, not Freaky-D. Dread is unbecoming of one such as him. He wanted to come up here because - fuck it, why not? His gut feeling told him that if the Promise was coming around to getting crazy one way or another, then he wanted to see it firsthand! Be the first in line to watch the explosion! He'd tangoed with parahumans before - none of them were quite so powerful, but there were a few you wouldn't laugh off, certainly. They have special teams down planetside fit to deal with them, with nullifiers and whatnot, but sometimes D wrapped things up before they even got there.

The joy! Being that guy, that Cadillac among men, the one with no powers of their own, overcoming a wall a mile high, made of thousands of bricks that all want to skin your ass raw! There was something beautifully simplistic in it that was hard for D to describe - not that he would, mind you.

Of course, not all parahumans automatically deserved an ass-whoopin'. Some were even fans of his! And who would he be, to turn away a friendly face just because they were better, faster, stronger, whatever, than him?

Really - who would be such a person?

Not him.

Certainly not him.

He turned his head again to look at the surroundings - still no sign of orientation getting started. Oh well. He didn't want to introduce himself before the staff got their own kicks in - that'd just be plain rude.

So he waited still.

[Assistant]
Archie

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"Here and there,"

Archie didn't catch onto her hint at attempting to end the conversation. He smiled at Lynn, and shrugged. "I read that here and there are units of measurement for love. Was never sure if it was measuring distance, or time though."

Archie recoiled some at Natalie's sudden outburst, realizing very quickly that he was not talking to people that knew him, and that these people were strangers. He was not used to parahumans in general, having only heard of them and even having had a negative opinion of them until he had become one himself. It dawned upon him how similar they were to regular people. So easily crushing the spoon was impressive, but a reminder that she could just as easily do that to his neck. He wouldn't dare say it, but he was somewhat glad that the collar had calmed her down.

Her words rang in his head, though. Wanting to be normal and fit in? That resonated with him, now that he was what he was. Even among the freaks he was still a outlier. Maybe not at much as Natalie, but it was still there because of how he was brought aboard. When she slumped and turned away, he didn't think about his next action and simply put his hand on her back again. A wordless expression of empathy, a way to say it was okay. Hopefully that would be enough. He gave Lynn a look that hopefully communicated that he had been spooked and to please not set her off again. Mostly because he was closest to her. Amelia seemed to have a better idea and took it in a positive light, but Archie had the suspicion that drawing attention to her outburst would only make Natalie feel worse.

"So uh, what do you do?" he said, looking to Amelia in an effort to get the attention off of Natalie for her benefit. People liked talking about themselves, right? His brother sure had. "And you?" He questioned Lynn, too.

---

Who Walks Behind@levinfist@Silver Carrot

[User]
"Yeah," Natalie answered Amelia without moving her head. "Super strength is my deal. I'm sorry I got short with you. It's just..." she looks up, and gestures with her head to the people in ordinary clothes. "I don't think that's a bad thing. I wish I could be like them. I wish I could walk around without this collar but I can't. It's not safe."

Natalie ignored Lynn's comment about Valium. She had no reply to that. Or it was possible she didn't trust herself enough to try and stay calm at the same time. Her comment about Necklace shopping also annoyed Natalie, as if this was some punishment you got for bad behavior. This wasn't a punishment, nor a breach of her rights. If they offered her the choice to wear the collar, Natalie would still have taken it. But giving her the choice was a luxury they could not afford with her. Her history and records were testament to that.

The second time Archie put a reassuring hand on her back, she didn't jump, but looked up, nodded ans gave another half-smile, and returned to her silence. Now she was perfectly fine letting them talk to each other. She didn't feel left out because now she thought that getting involved might cause her to snap again, especially if she was talking to Amelia or Lynn.


[System]
Chapter: Black Templars

Chapter Demeanour: The Black Templars are very spiritual chapter, and as Chaplain, Autrus is no exception. Leading his Battle-Brothers in prayers, and providing the Emperor's Blessing in battle. The Black Templars also see close combat as the true art of battle, and thus all but ignore ranged weaponry. Those who ignore or attack the Emperor and Imperium's faith, such as Xenos and Heretics, are the foremost enemies of the Black Templars.

Personal Demeanour: Zaphiel treats his job as Chaplain as his life. As one of the minority of Astartes who worships the Emperor of Mankind as a God of humanity and follows the teachings of the Imperial Creed, Zaphiel is a very spiritual and prayer-and-blessing-focused Chaplain, often using any opportunity to lead his battle-brothers in prayer and to bless weapons and armor before battle. This spiritual fervor leads Zaphiel to have a very hostile sentiment towards Xenos and Heretics, going into almost a religious frenzy when facing them, not stoping until they lie dead, and in the case of heretics, often forcing them to repent their sins before being killed. Zaphiel's focus in prayers is more on general service to the Imperium and the Emperor, stressing the role of his battle-brothers as Astartes over that as Black Templars. This unique focus has often drawn confusion from his fellow Chaplains, but the effective results it garners are certainly able to be seen.

Speciality: Chaplain

Rank: Chaplain(They're outside the standard rankings)

Power Armour History: Zaphiel's armor has a deep history, stretching back over 2000 years. First worn by a hero whose name has since been lost to time. From there, it has been passed down through the Black Templars' Chaplain chain, but has earned a much darker legacy than that of its first wearer. Each and every chaplain who has donned the armor has been forced into one of the darkest fates that can befall a Chaplain: They have been forced to execute another Astartes. This has led to a tradition of the armor being given a purity seal for each battle-brother the wearer has been forced to put to death. By the time it came in possession of Zaphiel, the suit bore 20 seals from this tradition alone. Zaphiel has yet to find himself in the same situation as the previous owners, but upon entry to the Deathwatch, he fears that day draws near.

Description: Zaphiel's face shows the signs of an experiences Astartes, with both age and scars of battle adorning it. He keeps his head completely free of hair, a monastic tradition stretching back millennia. His body is similarly kept hairless. His eyes are somewhat unnatural, a minor mutation native to his homeworld, in that the iris is almost stark white, leaving only the black rim and the pupil a different color. His large, modified body is marred in scars from sparring and battles, and bears the massive shape and frame of a Space Marine. When not on duty, he wears simplistic white robes adorned with the symbol of the Imperial Eagle, and when in combat he wears the Chaplain armor issued to him.

Skills: As a follower of the Imperial Creed, and a Chaplain, Zaphiel has vast knowledge on the history of the Imperium, and how to perform spiritual ceremonies. He is also knowledgeable on how to spot heresies, corruption, and association with Xenos, even the more subtle nuances. As a member of the Black Templars, he is a skilled close quarters combatant, though his marksmanship could use some work.

History: Zaphiel remember very little about his life before being inducted into the Black Templars. He knows that his homeworld was a Shrine World dedicated to the worship of the Emperor, and that the Templars frequently used it as a recruiting world due to this holy connection. Zaphiel was one of those blessed enough to be recruited as one of the Emperor's Chosen, and in no time at all was under the course of rigorous training. As part of the Black Templar's recruitment process, Zaphiel saw combat sooner than most Astartes-in-training, and was soon adjusted to the horrors of war in the 41st millennium.

As a neophyte in the chapter, Zaphiel showed deep interest in the rituals and faith of the Black Templars, and not long after becoming a full-fledged Marine, was he placed alongside Chaplain Argus Cassiel, to learn the ways of the Chaplain from an experienced leader. Zaphiel showed great promise in the service of Argus, and was well on his way to being inducted. Zaphiel was truly honored the time came for him to enter the Solitarium and begin his meditation. He spent slightly over one week in the cell, during which he perceived what he described as a vision of the Emperor, a holy figure clad in gilded armor, providing a blessing to Zaphiel, stating that he was destined to receive the favor of the Emperor. This blessing affirmed Zaphiel's belief that he was right to become a Chaplain, and he stood proud as he received his Crozius Arcanum, Rosarius, and the name of his fallen forbearer.

From that day, Zaphiel has served proudly and true as one of the Emperor's Faithful. Leading his company in both Righteous Prayer and Holy Crusade, Zaphiel has felt himself to be truly guided by the Emperor throughout his life. In many a battle has Zaphiel led his men courageously through the hells of war, to emerge like Angels on the other side. So when Zaphiel was asked by the Master of Sanctity to be of the Templars' offerings to the Deathwatch, Zaphiel was eager to accept.

Upon arrival to the Deathwatch fortress, Zaphiel feels as if the eyes of the Emperor himself are watching him. Zaphiel is ready to face whatever trials and tribulations await, for he knows that his faith in the Emperor and his personal skill shall see him through it.

Equipment and Armament: Zaphiel's weapon of choice in battle is his Crozius Arcanum, the symbol of office for all Chaplains of the Adeptus Astartes. A staff topped with the Imperial Eagle, it holds a power field similar to a power sword or other weapon, and is thus a potent close combat tool. He also keeps a Bolt Pistol for when ranged combat is required. Around his neck, he wears the Rosarius given to him by the Ecclesiarchy upon his ascension to the role of Chaplain.

Miscellaneous: N/A

[User]
It seemed the initiates where to go into battle in a boarding action versus a different enemy than they were expected and unaccompanied by the veterans. Unfortunate that they would have to go against Eldar with equipment chosen to take down Kroot, the Eldar were considerably better equipped than the barely armored Kroot. Also the lack of the veterans made the distinction of who was leading this attack on the tactical level rather confused because, while Watch-captain Roa was commanding them via vox, they would need to decide who would be making the snap leadership decisions that won battles, otherwise they where going to get in each others way a lot. Still, adaptability was a virtue, they would deal with whatever came their way with faith and firepower.

"Let me check that the cost is clear for the moment"

Draksal sent the skull probe out first to check that the boarding impact had cleared the corridor of hostiles and that they were not immediately going to be taking fire upon exiting. At the same them he loaded a Flakk Missile into his launcher, then slung it back over his shoulder and drew the shotgun, which in the tight confines of a ships would serve as an excellent room clearer without the risk of explosive decompression ejecting them all into space. The melta pistol would be excellent for cutting through any doors that might bar their way. All in all their sidearms rather well suited to this operation.

The skull probe had checked both ways down the corridor, had seen nothing so far and more importantly not been instantly blown to pieces by enemy fire. It was probably safe to proceed.

"We're clear"

Draksal stepped out to watch the left approach to the craft, the probe keeping an eye on the right, he was ready to open fire on any xenos that came to investigate the crash to cover the others as they disembarked.

[Assistant]
The impact was relatively cushy as the Caestus rammed into the side of the Dark Eldar raiders' lead ship. Aldaric waited impatiently as the mechanical countdown finished and the doors dropped open to form a heavy ramp onto the floor of an empty lower corridor in the abhorrent xenos' vessel. Heartening words rang over the killteam's vox communicators. Fear however, was not a problem. They had their orders, which were to rapidly ascend to the bridge and dispatch the raiding party's leadership, thus routing the rest of the foolish Dark Eldar who had unwittingly attacked the Imperium's specialized xeno-hunting taskforce mid-space. Educating these xeno scum would be most satisfying indeed.

The killteam that had been sent to this task however, was nacent. The Deathwatch captain was present in communication only, having said nothing of individual responsibilities in the field or provided any hint of on-the-ground organization or tactics. They were all equal now, brothers, and they had to figure this one out on their own.

Aldaric found the lack of immediate clarity in what their individual actions were to be irritating, but there was no time to get to know each other. Quickly, even before they made contact, he considered each of their chosen armaments and began to rationalize their best use based on that and what little he knew of his new teammates. It was a roll of the dice how any of this was about to go.

Draskal had already stepped out to investigate the corridor when Aldaric's suspensory device finally released him. Once freed, the impatient former captain immediately went to work on what he saw was their greatest problem at the moment, the lack of a plan.

"We're clear." Stated the space marine who was more machine than man.

Aldaric noted the floating familiar by his side which he had used to safely enhance his sight. Drascal also had ranged weapons, which would be far more useful on the inside of a spacecraft than his missle launcher, more than likely. A quick glance around spotted a stormshield, carried by Victor Ironmarch, certainly a most useful bulwark. There was Sirren with a mighty chainsword, Zaphiel with a combi-flamer, and Kurt with his much lighter armor and potential vulnerability.

Aldaric's brow furrowed seriously above his mechanical left eye as he scrutinized. The team's hesitation was killing him, the moment of quiet was an inferno of infuriation. Finally, unable to stand for it any longer, he simply, acted. Holding his own sniper bolter at the ready, he turn to those he named specifically. "Victor. Drascal. I want you two to take point. Find their bridge. Sorrow, you're behind them to provide cover as needed. As soon as we clear an area, Draskal can blow up the next door so we can move in..."

Aldaric didn't bother with apologies or any statements of the obvious. He simply did what he had always done. It was his job, his role, and he expected no recognition for it. There was a gap that needed to be filled, and he simply provided the spackle. He had no idea whether or not he would be heeded, or hated, but he went on regardless. "We will be moving fast, so Kurtis, I need you specifically to call 'in-back' if anything pursues us from that direction. As for the rest of us, do what you do best and eliminate all hostiles." Aldaric knew that only experience would show each of their strengths and weaknesses. He primed his weapon and began moving down the left hall, letting the anger at his enemies fill his heart and drive his resolve. "We rally on Zaphiel if we get separated, so keep track of him at all times. Speed is of the essence brothers. Let us show these xenos how a proper assault is conducted."

There was no rational for sneaking around. This would be a guns-blazing, blitzkrieg assault, one that the enemy was hopefully completely unprepared for.

[User]
The orders to prepare for boarding actions had been rather unexpected, but were not altogether unwelcome. Zaphiel had been eagerly awaiting to unleash the Emperor's Fury upon heretical Xenos, but he was certainly not expecting an encounter with the Dark Eldar, especially given the nature of their vessel in question. Ultimately he chalked it up to Xeno incompetence inherent within their races, and prepared for action.

The Caestus Assault Ram was filled to the brim with members of the greenhorn Kill-Team. Zaphiel rested his bolter across his legs, the dim glow of his Rosarius power field emitting blue light across the interior of the small vessel. Zaphiel held the religious charm in one hand, offering a prayer to the God-Emperor, asking for protection and strength to be granted to them all in the coming battle. Though not many chapters viewed the Emperor as a holy figure of worship, Zaphiel spoke this prayer out loud, hoping that at the very least, thoughts of the Emperor would ease any tension in the mind of his Battle-Brothers.

As the doors to the Assault Ram hissed open, and Drascal moved to secure the immediate area, Zaphiel did one last quick check of his weaponry, before preparing to disembark with the others. Aldaric seized the opportunity to take command of the situation, which was a commendable act, given the lack of any real command structure as of yet, and so Zaphiel had no qualms about following his orders.

"Victor. Drascal. I want you two to take point. Find their bridge. Sorrow, you're behind them to provide cover as needed. As soon as we clear an area, Draskal can blow up the next door so we can move in... "We will be moving fast, so Kurtis, I need you specifically to call 'in-back' if anything pursues us from that direction. As for the rest of us, do what you do best and eliminate all hostiles. "We rally on Zaphiel if we get separated, so keep track of him at all times. Speed is of the essence brothers. Let us show these xenos how a proper assault is conducted."

As Aldaric finished speaking, Zaphiel spoke with a firm "Acknowledged." to confirm his willingness to accept the current structure of the unit. Stepping out into the Xenos ship with the others, Zaphiel took his place in the formation, eager to begin his Emperor-given task.