[System]
Age: 34 (Teacher)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: The Eternity Key has three modes. The first is a simple, if fancy looking longsword, covered in circuitry and capable of being electrified. The second is a shotgun, and the third is a keyboard and holographic monitor that are able of interfacing with nearly any computer system–and hacking it.
Course: Computer Science
Semblance: Ryou is capable of causing "silence zones" at will. Each zone is a space around 10 feet in diameter in which no mechanical devices or Dust powered machines will work. Up to three can exist at once.
Personality: Ryou is a quiet man who does not talk a lot. He expects his entire students to know how to operate a computer so he can teach them the "fun world" of computer science instead of teaching them how to open a program or write in a notepad which he finds boring. He really doesn't talk that much to people outside of his class and department, though he maintains a good relationship with the more technologically capable of his colleagues.
Color: Neon Green.
Emblem: A green power symbol on a black background.
Appearance:

[User] "Are you willing to overlook some dead bodies?" Figuring that they might end up killing or finding murdered people, Ebon wanted to make sure he and his team wouldn't get a bad rap if they ended up killing out of self-defense. Not that he was looking to hurt anyone, but he wasn't going to hold back either. If recent experiences taught him anything, not bringing out the big guns is the road to failure. Ebon also took a bottle of water and drained it fast, throwing it away in the nearest trash can. "And how much collateral do we have? I don't want to get blamed for someone else's mess after all." He then grabbed a doughnut and ate it in three bites.

[Assistant]
Vega Venetia – Team VGNB – VGNB Dorm

Gratia utterance of that sentence and the immediate unnerving solitude of the room made her spine jump up. Bianca, her close friend who was dear to her, kidnapped by who, she did not know. But Vega knew that it was up to her team to rescue her before a grim fate befalls her.

A silent wait was required; Vega knew that though she started to become restless from the thoughts of the possibility of the fate of Bianca but was optimistic that nothing would happen to her. With Mr. Jokester, otter girl, and Ms. Irritable, who were all angered as much as her by the kidnapping of Bianca, nothing would stand in their way.

With a pause, "All I can say is that, we must begin our preparations for this" she uttered seriously. After that Vega grabbed her scroll out and sent a message.

>Sender: Vega Venetia
>Receiver: Sarina Tala Dei
>Body: Bianca Nuit, has been kidnapped. VGNB is going to prepare for this.

She tapped send on her scroll; Sarina had to know this to.

--

Sarina Tala Dei - Team JESS – The Arena

Sarina took out her scroll to see Vega message, she was shocked and with her sister here, it would be a bad moment if Estelle found out just before their mission. Indeed, Sarina hoped Bianca would fare well and be rescued by VGNB; she did consider them well above the other freshman teams of Beacon.

>Sender: Sarina Tala Dei
>Receiver: Vega Venetia
>Body: I see…be careful and I wish you good luck on your mission to save her. ┐( ˘ ､ ˘ )┌

…Leaving her signature Kaomoji in her message turned to Estelle. Another last minute mission eh. "Hold on, I need to get some provisions from my room. I will meet you and the others at the helipad soon." With that, Sarina dashed off illuminatingly to her dorm.

[User]
Grane Blauer

"No, Never a mission from Beacon, but I wouldn't say I'm a complete rookie." Then again, Grane had never really fought Grimm, so it would be interesting to see how he would fare against these creatures. At least their mission seemed straightforward enough, evict some grimm out of a fort and make sure their buddies don't bust back in. Nothing too strenuous for his first real engagement with the Grimm. Robert was trying to offer some sort of emotional support, though knowing Robert he was probably trying to mask about how much of a pussy he was. Yes, Grane was probably being extremely harsh and perhaps even a bit assholey, but this kid was going to lead him into combat. A lack of clarity would probably lead to the deaths of the entire team.

Also, remembering that incident in class just made him cringe. It was like a small kitten in a den of lions. But who knows? Maybe combat would change the man. Hopefully before they all got killed. On another note, their newest team member seemed pretty chill. At least better than Robert as far as he could tell, but that wasn't much of an achievement. But enough thinking about his teammates, Grane wanted to reach the fort ASAP. The faster it was taken, the faster the reinforcements could reach them.

"Robert, We gonna move out? I'd rather get this mission over with as quickly as possible."

[Assistant]
Benjamin Lloyd

"Go ahead, Negasi. You're gonna explode if I don't let you." Ben rolled his eyes, stifling a yawn while he tucked his Scroll into a pocket. They were running slightly behind, but he needed to be alert. He'd set the coffee maker the night before, getting his fuel was as simple as pouring it into a travel mug and starting towards the door. Bastille's leader looked like he was barely awake. And if he was honest... He wasn't quite there yet. But he was awake enough to run through his mental checklist of everything he needed, put in a good word with the big man upstairs, and step out the door.

Half his coffee vanished in a few quick swallows on the way. He needed to be at the top of his game, and that meant awake, alert, and energized. Give or take twenty minutes, and he'd be all three.

It was mission day, after all.

[User]
Abel Fulgurate - On the way

Huffing and puffing, the guardian thundered like an asthmatic ox down the hallway, struggling to fasten his armor on as he did so. Anyone unfortunate enough to be in his path pressed against the wall to avoid both him and the floating polearm that followed him, and received a brusque apology as Abel sprinted past. Of all the days to have previously left the Ampere in the Survival classroom, it had to be mission day. Abel, rounding the final corner toward the pavilion, pulled taut the last strap before he snatched his weapon out of the air. Only a few moments later, he stood, winded and tousle-haired but sufficiently ready to kick some ass, among his teammates.

After his attempt at saying 'hello' result in little more than a haggard "huugh", he resigned himself to standing with the Ampere's butt planted in the ground and trying not to look like an idiot. Sapphire, Shiro, and Gren appeared normal, or as normal was for them, so he busied himself with reading the mission statement on the screen before them. While he found himself slightly distracted by the aroma of his allies' tea, he did not assume that there was enough for him, and so paid it no mind. A few seconds later, he found himself able to speak. "G'morning. Sorry 'bout the wait, got really unlucky. Um. Looks like your rebreathies are gonna come in handy, Gren. Don't really know anything about Sirens though. Are they aquatic? Pretty landlocked back home." He turned around, his gaze questioning, but discovered that everyone else seemed fit to depart. Feeling more than a little awkward to be centering the attention on himself with time a-wasting, he gestured dismissively at the screen. "Uh, whatever. Price I pay for bein' late, you can tell me on the ride over or something. I'm ready. You ready? Let's go."

Brewing Storm

"Alright. You know what to do: find a way inside, find out what the hell happened, and find every single person you can. Oh, and chemical drums, if you care about money. We'll be watching from above; if you hit a snag, radio either IFRA or I for help. We'll have the birds-eye view, and tell you whatever we can. God forbid, but in case something goes really badly, both Mr. Orpheus and Mr. Lloyd have been issued a flare gun. The ship will fire on wherever the flare goes, inside or out." Goodwitch crossed her arms and began to rise, along with the rest of the ship, into the air. Wind whipped her hair and cloak, but her last words came clearly and authoritatively, as if she could command fate to favor teams Bastille and Jumpercable. "Good luck."

For a place determined by sweeping scans to be crawling with Grimm, Outlands Distillery looked rather quiet, albeit very ominous. Teams BASL and JPCL, dropped off on a hill in front of the facility, could see clearly the large, oddly-shaped structure, as if the building itself were deformed. All sorts of pipes, tanks, and other pieces of equipment lined its exterior, and behind the Distillery lay the sprawling swamp, choked by giant, twisted trees, stagnant water, and rolling fog. Though this mission lay on the cusp between summer warmth and autumn breezes, the air felt both cool and thick. Each hunter-in-training, on the descent to the facility, would doubtlessly step over gnarled roots, stinking puddles, deposits of mud, and an impressive variety of insects, amphibians, and reptiles. Just before the Distillery this terrain gave way to a large, paved lot, scattered over which were a few machines, storage boxes, tanks, and other such. Only one of the trucks showed any real damage: its hood had been torn off, exposing the engine, car battery, and various cables.

When they got to the main door, however, they would find it sealed shut. Beside it on the left stood the towering freight door, a giant, industrial version of a garage door, which appeared closed also. Fortunately, a terminal lay between the two apertures, though powered down. Anyone with electrical savvy might be able to tell that the entire Distillery's power grid was offline, but an external source of power would be enough to activate the terminal and unseal the locks.

A less tech-savvy individual, uneasy and looking around, might spot a small, dark shape disappearing around a corner as the teams approached.

Defend a Caravan

The airship ferrying team JESS flew with speed and silence, which as the trip went on developed a decidedly discomforting vibe. More and more, the seniors of Beacon assigned to this task would begin to suspect that their mission had, probably recently, become that much more urgent. In short notice, the ship left the verdant kingdom of Vale behind, shooting like a lonely comet of liveliness over barren steppes and wasted scrublands. Below, the occasional group of Grimm could be seen, but one got the impression that many more lurked beyond where the fleeting eye could discern.

At last, forty minutes later, the airship's velocity began to diminish. The two individuals in the sealed cockpit, who so far maintained an enigmatic nonpresence as far as the hunters they'd hired were concerned, finally connected to JESS via intercom. A female voice came to them with a shockingly intense tone, demanding attention and immediate compliance, "Hunter team, prepare for action immediately. The caravan is under attack this very instant. I'm not an expert on Grimm, but I can see a huge scorpion, a couple of dinosaurs with sails, and a bunch of bulls. They've stopped the vehicle and are destroying it. Your best bet is to remove whatever is preventing the vehicle from moving and get it going. Deploy now!"

The airship swooped down, and from its opened ramp leaped the members of JESS. Only a short fall lay between them and the vehicle, and as they dropped, the situation became obvious. The caravan vehicle, though huge and heavily armored, was under immense attack. Slowly but surly, the Sitting Bulls, the Tutankhamuns, and the Death Stalker were ripping through its armor. One of the Tutankhamuns stood on top of the vehicle's hulk, weighing it down as it rammed its head into the reinforced glass of the driver's terminal. At the back, the Death Stalker had a hold of the rear tires, and with its stinger lodged in one of the exhaust vents, the vehicle couldn't work up enough traction or power to get going.

[Assistant]
Skyra Dawn - Police Headquarters

Skyra leaning on the wall chewing on some protein bar or something similar shrugged. "I want to do it a bit more stealthily than last time... I can't be bothered to fight another of those gang members today. Only if really needed."
Bored she scratched her ears.
"That way we avoid unnecessary bloodshed without actually having to try to avoid it."
She opened a map of their allocated route and scanned the weather report as well.
"Conditions seem good for stealth today. Let me scout out things before you guys rush into action..."

[User]
And the first obstacle presented itself. Sealed, ominous looking doors for a sealed, ominous looking factory. Joy.

"This is your guys' game. I'm crap with tech. Warn me if you're going to be loud, though."

Amy's eyes turned to the surrounding environment, her semblance tuning up as she tried to listen for any activity in the factory or spot any motion.

Sure enough, something in the corner of her eye--a small dark shape--she focused on it, semblance whirring up a few more metaphorical gears as she tried to discern what it was, before it vanished around the alley and out of her line of sight.


[System]
Age: 28

Race/Gender: Male

Brief physical description or picture: Caucasian male, 5"10, 160 lb Brown hair and blue eyes. Moderately handsome, he has a pale complexion from spending most of his time below decks and his arms and legs have numerous small scars from burns and cuts from a life spent around machinery. Due to his profession, he does have hearing damage (tinnitus). He also has inherited his mother's immunity to radiation, common amongst the Children of Atom. Not being familiar with the tenets of the cult, he does not realize this and found his survival while the rest of the survivors died one by one due to radiation sickness unexplainable and somewhat traumatic. As Natick steamed towards Far Harbor, he has begun having dreams he finds rather disturbing, both of figures from his past and of Far Harbor itself....as if he were being summoned.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons: Grey turtleneck sweater and blue denim workpants with a navy blue woolen pea coat. The pea coat is rolled up when not being worn. Wearing a pair of battered but sound boots of high quality...that someone in the know would recognize as Enclave officer issue...that are slightly too large for the wearer. Carries an ancient but meticulously maintained .45 ACP service revolver in a leather belt holster with lanyard. Has a second revolver, a worn but serviceable .357 Police revolver in his rucksack wrapped in a oilcloth. Has 36 rounds of .45 ACP in speedloaders, 2 boxes (100 rounds) of .38 Special and 18 rounds of loose .357 ammunition. Aside from a utility knife, no other weapons.

In his rucksack are miscellaneous items, including a canteen, working Geiger counter, a nautical grade compass, a pair of binoculars with case, an inoperative Pip-Pad (intact but needs new power supply), and a leatherbound pocket Bible with (unknown to Steve) an Enclave ID card for a 2ND LT Leroy Jenkins (the picture on the card is of a African American male in his 30s) hidden in the back cover. Has 200 caps.

Brief Background: Born in Megaton in 2259, his mother, a member of the Children of Atom, died in childbirth. His father, a brahmin driver for a caravan, claimed him (after a tense standoff with Confessor Cromwell that escalated to threats of hiring Talon Company to "rescue" the infant before Sheriff Simms intervened) to and took him to Rivet City to be cared for by his grandfather. As he grew up, he assisted his grandfather, who led one of the work gangs that maintained the derelict aircraft carrier, in the endless task of keeping the pre-war systems that Rivet City's existence relied on operational. When he turned fifteen, his grandfather died (of Red Lung) and he joined his father in his caravan. After three relatively happy years, tragedy struck when their little caravan was caught up in the Enclave War. Caught in the crossfire during one of the innumerable battles between the Enclave and the Outcasts, the caravan was decimated before they could escape, one of those killed being his father. The caravan owner disbanded the caravan shortly after. On his own, he decided to leave the Capital Wasteland behind and signed onto a passing coastal steamer, putting his work experience in Rivet City to work as an engineer. Over the next twelve years, he worked on several ships that plied the trade lanes along the Atlantic Coast. The last one was the SS Regina, a coastal steamer out of Halifax. Three weeks ago the combination of a storm and one of the mutated creatures that lurk in the open ocean caused her to founder, leaving only six survivors that managed to reach a lifeboat. Over the next week, five of them died from radiation exposure, leaving Steve the last survivor of the Regina when they were finally spotted by a passing fishing boat, the Natick, who rescued him. His story, as well as multiple sightings of large mutated creatures that began once he was picked up, caused the crew to consider him a "Jonah" who brought bad luck to the ship, and the loudest among them began to call for him to be thrown overboard. The captain, who needed a good engineer, resisted at first but after a near mutiny was forced to agree to remove him from the Natick, though he did get one key concession....rather than throwing Steve overboard, he would be put ashore at the first port they could reach. That port was Far Harbor.

His only possessions being what little he and his shipmates had with them when they took to the lifeboat and the boat itself, the Natick's captain traded Steve a .357 revolver, a supply of ammunition, a broken Pip-Pad, and some caps for the lifeboat, as well as agreeing to take the Regina's log book and Captain's sextant and other effects (except for his compass, binoculars, and service revolver which Steve kept out of necessity) to his family in Halifax.

[User]
James Gregor Castner

The little creature was fast enough to dodge his shot, but the same couldn't be said for Cult leader. A headshot from Steve ended her in a sickening way. He could hear her skull and headdress crunch… and something else. Her broken headdress tumbled off dramatically to reveal an older ethnic woman, with bits of plastic and wires poking out from the bloody hole.

 A Synth? Why?

"NO!" Corrine shrieked, startling him. It must have been a former friend of hers who joined the Cult. She stood straight up in shock.

"THIS IS THE UNITED STATES MILITARY, SURRENDER NOW OR BE FIRED UPON."

"MURDERERS!", shouted back a cultist.

And then chaos erupted. The cultists started firing on them with makeshift assault rifles, while one one sprinted towards Corrine with a meathook. Before he could fire back, pain split through his thigh. Training kept him from faltering. He grunted and raised his rifle, taking careful aim at the center of mass of one of the gun toting cultists, and sent two blasts in his direction. He dropped to a prone position to reduce his size.

Corrine suddenly stumbled directly into the range of fire, sobbing incoherently over the dead synth.

"CORRINE GET DOWN! FLATTEN YOURSELF!", he shouted a little panickedly. He fired a volley of rushed shots around the enemies, hopefully suppressing them from firing at Corrine. He thought he heard Steve getting attacked, but he was too busy trying to cover Corrine.

[Assistant]
Captain James Williams- FIGHT!

"THIS IS THE UNITED STATES MILITARY, SURRENDER NOW OR BE FIRED UPON."

"Murderers!" cried the cultist, seemlying engaged instead of scared shitless by the death of their cult squad commander.

Should have seen this coming.. Oh well

Chaos quickly erupted with two of the cultists taking out and firing their makeshift "rad-rifles" or whatever they were called at the James but for Captain James alteast the underbrush was able to hide his position as the cultist missed.

Aiming his Plasma defender James began to fire back at the cultist (shoot check one?)

The Third cultist however took out a meat hook and lunge at Corrine who had charged in with her spear but luckily for the islander she was able to dodge their attack.

Perhaps she can disarm them.

Meanwhile the mini-Gecko creature had swiftly rushed at Steve, blocking his attempts to stop it the creature jumped up and bitted deep into arm. Thankfully Steve was able to get his sidearm out and began to fire into the creatures head... very few things can survive point blank magnum shots to the head.

should be able to deal with on his own...

"CORRINE GET DOWN! FLATTEN YOURSELF!",

James turned back to see that Connie, seemlying Crying had crumpled herself over Dead cult leader's body and right in the middle of the on-going fire fight "DO YOU HAVE A DEATHWISH? GET THE FUCK DOWN NOW."

"GODDAM IT"

Not wanting Connie to get shot in the crossfire James stood up, still firing his plasma defender at the cultist he dash forwards to an piece of the crash vetibird which he hoped would provide cover like the log but would be out of the way of Connie. (Run/shoot check two :)

----
Optional: Should a cultist get up close to James he will throw his plasma defender at them and then pull out his shotgun

[User]
Steve Miller - Crashed Vertibird

Moving as quietly as he could, Steve maneuvered around the crash site until he found a rock to get behind that gave him a good view of the downed aircraft and the Cultist leader....who James had assigned him as his first target. He dropped and got down prone behind the rock, then took careful aim, and waited, thinking of the discussion they had had moments ago.

The hurt look in Corrine's eyes when he had backed James over her bothered him, but he didn't see any other way around it. Steve understood she was reluctant to fight what she considered her own people, but he felt that was clouding her judgement...from what he had been told while in town the Cultists had made it clear that it was 'their way or the highway', as Dad had liked to put it. Either join their little group, or leave...or be driven into the sea. If they had given up, then the choices would have narrowed to join or die...and even if they pretended to go along, the odds of being able to get free in time to help the town were basically nonexistent. Nope, when they chose to proceed after that "angler" nearly killed the Enclaver, they had committed to fighting if need be to get that equipment....and as it turned out if they hadn't, they'd have been doomed and not even know it until it was too late. With the suits in that Vertibird....there would have been no stopping them when they came to town. As bad as the odds were now, even if they did prevail here, it was better than no chance at all. All he could hope was that Corrine eventually saw they had made the right call.

The Enclaver took his shot, and the battle began. The Cultist leader jerked and whirled to her right in response to the thwack of a bullet hitting home, Steve adjusted his aim slightly and fired, the round punching a hole in the leader's mask just above the right eye and gore exploded out of the back of her head as the bullet passed through, and the cultist immediately began to crumple to the ground.

One down, three to go, Steve thought grimly as he worked the slide of his rifle and looked to the Vertibird for his next target, trusting Castner to have dealt with the pet of hers. The Enclaver called out some nonsense being from the Government, predictably the Cultists replied with angry shouts of "Murderer!" and began to return fire. Seeing Corrine engaging one of the cultists with her spear, he looked for a target that would not place her in his line of fire. Settling on a Cultist that popped out of the Vertibird wielding a odd looking rifle, which he fired in the direction of the Enclaver. Steve lined up a shot, and just as he pulled the trigger, he heard a angry sounding growl from atop the rock he was using for cover, then a weight fell suddenly on his back. Too distracted to note if he scored a hit or not, Steve rolled to his right onto his back, throwing whatever it was off. He then looked over to see his assailant, it was that creature the now dead leader had as a pet...Castner had failed to kill it, it would seem...and it looked quite pissed. It scrambled to it's feet and lunged at him with a snarl. He tried to club it with the butt of his rifle, but the infernal creature dodged his desperate attempt and sank it's teeth into his left arm, shaking it's head for good measure. Steve bared his teeth in anger and pain, and instinctively let go of the rifle with his free right hand, and drew his revolver, pushing the muzzle of the revolver forward until it was placed directly against the creature's chest.

"Fuck you!", Steve hissed as he pulled the trigger. "FUCK. YOU!" he repeated angrily as he released the trigger of the revolver and promptly pulled it again, firing a second shot into the creature. If the first two shots didn't do the job, he had four more.......


[System]
Appearance:

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Race: Dark Elf

Rank: Watcher

Personality: Aslatiel is typically quite friendly but is very quiet and reserved, sometimes timid even, yet he still faces down his opponents with unwavering resolve. His usual demeanor, androgynous voice, and lithe figure often lead to him being confused for a female most of the time, something he does not always immediately correct.

Bio: Aslatiel grew up with not much more than a promise, more of a challenge really, made the day he was separated from his brother that they would see which of them was the better warrior the next time they met. Already abandoned by his parents for his perceived weakness and now separated from his brother he set out alone to the human kingdom of Farendar. It was difficult for him there, especially since he was still young and not very strong, not to mention the human's prejudice. Nevertheless, he still managed to find work mainly as a farmhand, working on one farm for a while before moving. His wandering rarely went close to the larger cities, sticking mainly to smaller settlements and villages. He still practiced his martial skills when he got the chance, using the only weapon available to him: The Scythe, developing his own fighting style with the unconventional blade. Shortly before the war broke out he chanced across a small company headed by a peculiar dwarf. After he helped the company against a brigand ambush the dwarf, Valden Falskaar, created a special weapon for him as thanks as well as letting him stay with the company during the war.
 When the war had ended and Aslatiel had parted ways with Valden's company he finally caught wind of his brother's whereabouts, tracking him to a mountain range in the north. He finally came upon Leno on a small plateau, ready to face him, but something had seemed strange, Leno didn't seem like himself anymore, clad in black armor that obscured his face and an odd presence about him. Their fight lasted for hours, Aslatiel began to feel as if his brother was limitless until, by some luck, his blade struck home. His brother's body collapsing before him not long before he too collapsed from exhaustion.
 He awoke to find a man saying that he was impressed at his victory and that quite a few of the overseer's watchers had been felled by Leno before he came along. He then introduced himself as Marco and offered him a place among the Overseers of Serenity.

Weapons:
-Aslatiel's Scythe: A unique weapon made as a gift for him, the blade can be detached to serve as curved sword and the handle folds to be stored on his back. Fully extended the haft reaches out nearly 6ft.
-Iron knuckles

Magic: Entropy - Aslatiel never had use of any magic before, but after defeating his brother he found he had somehow inherited this power from him.

Name: Rakuyo Hessarian

Appearance:

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Race: Dark Elf

Rank: Scholar

Personality: Rakuyo is not an outspoken person but he is not shy either, he usually prefers a smaller company as larger crowds just make him nervous. He's kind, friendly, and usually on the happy side but his personality shift the moment his sword is drawn. He becomes very aggressive, almost losing himself to bloodlust but he usually retains enough of himself to know who his allies are. The shift seems to change his abilities as well, as he is stronger and faster but forgoes the use of his spells.

Bio: Rakuyo was found by an Overseer Reaver when he was only 12, wielding a strange blade and standing amidst a number of corpses. He was highly aggressive, attacking the Reaver on sight until he was disarmed. The moment his blade left his hands his entire personality changed and he seemed a bit confused about what was going on. rather than finish him off and destroy the sword he took the elf in. He became a sort of pet project to the Reaver, being his personal apprentice. He was always loathe to draw the blade again, instead he learned various types of magic and fought almost exclusively with spells. He eventually became a scholar, spending much of his time in the Tower of Athilaris. He never fought during the great convergence but the Reaver that brought him into the overseers had been killed in the war, leaving him sort of alone within the order.

That is until the joining of Aslatiel. The two quickly became friends and frequently undertake missions together.

Weapons:
-Odachi: Long single-edged sword from a distant land. It contains a spirit of some sort that possesses him whenever he draws it from it's scabbard, making him an exceptional swordsman. It's unknown how Rakuyo obtained it.

Magic: Rakuyo has studied a wide range of magic schools. He mainly uses elemental magic, restoration spells, and wards but he knows at least some of the darker arts but uses them with less frequency, if at all.

He has gotten a slight bit of renown for a particular necromancy spell he's used. It involves him quite literally punching the life out of someone. It's not often used due to it's need for close quarters.

Other: Rakuyo wears a simple necklace with a small blue crystal inlaid in the pendant. Despite it's small size it can hold a considerable amount of magicka allowing him to caste many more spells before exhausting his reserves.

[User]
Kaathe "Crestfallen" Oolacile
Escape

By the way the privateers scrambled about, preparing themselves and running up onto the deck, it seemed that they had found a more worthy vessel to fight than his dinghy. By the the time the sounds of battle cries and magical casts could be heard, most of them had already left the brig. Kaathe was calm, even in this situation. Compared to the events of the past, whatever battle was happening was like a soft dream. With the rocking of the ship, the battle seemed to have excavated. Still, Kaathe continued to sit. He was planning to leave, but knew that if he did, he'd still find difficulties. He was preparing himself for any unnecessary fights. After all, this wasn't his battle, and those who drag themselves into another's fight is likely to become a casualty or fatality.

As he sat, the battle above raged on, and none were left to watch over the 'prisoner.' Still, someone managed to arrive, as Kaathe heard a voice speaking to him. He was the only prisoner in the ship, so he knew he was the only person they were addressing. Mask and Cowl still on, Kaathe opened his eyes and looked to the new visitor. He looked familiar, but Kaathe didn't quite believe it. It had been years since last he saw him. There were some other similarities outside of appearance, as well. The voice, and its tone were very similar to a certain elf he had fought alongside.

Kaathe sighed. He wanted to focus a bit more of his magic, but it seems as if the newcomer would disrupt his concentration. The dark elf stood up, and enchanted one of his gloves with freezing magic.

"You remind me of an ally I once had. Fool wanted to be a white knight. But you can't be him. Why would he be here instead of protecting some poor family from bandits?"

Kaathe touched the entrance to his cell, freezing it, and a after a moment, he swung his arm through, shattering it to create an opening. Walking past the newcomer, Kaathe walked over to the wall, and reclaimed his items, some of the food was gone, but most his belonging were still there. He turned back to the newcomer, and said,

"I'm to going to leave this place. I don't intend to rot here. I'll accompany you to the deck. You've probably attracted some attention coming down here in the middle of a battle."

Kaathe loaded a bolt into his crossbow, and enchanted it with some illusory magic. Something he had learned to use when faced with crowds of killers and beasts. He looked past the newcomer and saw a privateer running towards them.

"Look, there's one now."

Kaathe raised his crossbow, and let the bolt loose. The bolt hit the enemy in the shoulder, and the enchantment worked its way through his body and into his mind. He howled as hallucinations plagued his minds and warped his reality. Soon after, another would arrive, and the now crazed privateer's attention was switched over to them.

As the maddened privateer savagely attacked his comrade, Kaathe looked to the newcomer.

"Let's get going."

[Assistant] "I would say the same, but Im pretty sure I know who you are." A smile creeps across Karl's face, he knew of only one dark elf who used ice magic, could cause people to see things, and was more brooding than a storm front. "Kaathe Oolacile, Templar of the "Dawn Covenant", and "Hero of the Dawn". Let me put your suspicion to rest, I am Karl Shadowthorn. Former Templar of the "Dawn Covenant", "Hero of the Dawn", and for your information I did save villagers from bandits. And I have found a new cause to be the 'white knight' for." Karl walked past the two pirates and stood on the stairs leading up, turning his head to face Kaathe. "Well old friend, like you said it's time to go." Bounding up the stairs, Karl dispatches another pirate, with a brutal slash across his chest. Stopping to wait for Kaathe, Karl engages in combat with two more of the pirates.

[User]
At the captain's command, Aenwyn was at the portside. Some time has passed since she was actually in a combat situation. Five years to be exact. Aenwyn wondered if she was rusty but quickly pushed that thought away as the ships came closer and closer.

Once both ships were within firing range, all manner of projectile broke loose. With her specialty in protection magic and conjuring, Aenwyn summmoned forth a pair of water elementals to fight, augmenting them with magical barriers to resist physical damage. The water elementals were perhaps no more than a head taller than the average man yet their potential for destruction was high. With the sea around them, they summoned forth columns of water knocking away would be boarders and shot high pressured jets of water.

As the water elementals could be left to their own devices, Aenwyn had a brazen plan. Would it be too much to generate a whirpool and suck the enemy ship in? As she assessed the battle unfolding, throwing ice bolts at enemy fighters and mages, she realized that it was unnecessary. From what she could tell, the enemy was on the losing side. Creating a whirlpool would be overkill.

"These imperial privateers aren't really putting much of a fight," Aenwyn notes to herself as she destroys a boarding plank with fire

[Assistant]
Both Aslatiel and Rakuyo had still been below deck when the alert was called, getting above deck just as the Ketokar pulled alongside their ship. They quickly joined with the defenders, Aslatiel fending off the boarders and Rakuyo returning fire with his spells, careful to avoid setting the parts of the enemy ship on fire that held members of the Amaranthia's crew that had boarded them.

At some point he found himself close to Aenwyn, close enough to hear her comment to herself, though as she burned one of the planks he used the water left behind by her elemental's attack to lash out at a boarder nearby, freezing it as it went to create a row of spikes that impaled the dark elf while he was still crossing his plank, giving a quick nod to Aenwyn before his focus returned to the other ship.

A little ways down another dark elf boarder was attempting to swing across on a rope, only to be caught midair by Aslatiel's scythe which cleaved him right off the rope, Aslatiel then brought his weapon down a pulled the blade off to use as a sword and folded the haft to place on his back as he defended against any further of the privateer's attempts to board.


[System]
The Basics
Nicknames/Titles:
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Home Planet: Lothal
Race: Human
Sexuality: Straight
Force Sensitive: Yes, but doesn't know it, nor does he really care.
If yes, to what extent is their control over the Force:
Weapon(s): A-116 Marksmen Blaster Pistol, Modified E-11 Long-Range blaster mostly for scouting areas.
Loyalty: First Order
Position: Smuggler/Marksmen/Mercenary/Bounty Hunter

The Face Stuff
Height: 6'2''
Weight: 197 lbs.
Body Build: Athletic
Notable Injuries/scars: A scar that starts below his left ear and comes across to the end of his jaw.
Hair color: Jet Black
-Length: Shoulder
-Style: Ponytail typically
Eye color(s): Blue
Skin tone: Tanned

Marking/Tattoos: None
Clothing: Highly Modified Baragwin Shadow Armor with a dark blue color to it.along with a targeting assessor.
-Anything notable of the clothing: The First Order's symbol directly on the chest

The Good Stuff
Biography:

Joran doesn't remember exactly anything from his childhood except that he would do anything to scrap by. From about the age of nine, he was taken in by a man that taught him how to fire a blaster to defend himself. From that point, the man took him under his wing, allowing him to grow into a mercenary that no longer had to fight to just get by. They would take on numerous missions for the Empire, but nothing that really put him in any limelight, as he most kept to the shadows.

The once Mercenary eventually was made a complete First Order agent who spends most of his days doing exactly what that man did for him. Give some Orphaned children a purpose. He felt he gave them a life instead of them starving on the streets, begging, or being taken to a worse fate. At least this way they would grow to have a fighting chance against the universe. At least that was always how he rationalized it, which was the same way it had been rationalized to him.

The First Order has made sure that they have kept him on their payroll, even if he isn't out on a mission, as they feel he is a valueable asset to them. While he himself not even realizing it, not that he would really care if he knew, he is force sensitive, which was another reason they have kept him on the payroll, and around.
Personality: A very crass, unapologetic person. Doesn't care if he offends people with his dialouge, nor does he really care if he steps on peoples toes when it comes to having a set plan in stone. He believes firmly that you cannot account for every variable, so why bother even trying to plan out things, as he would rather just react to the events taking place over wasting time. To him, every second planning something is a second he could be doing just about anything else. He refuses to tone himself done for anyone.

Like: Spicy Foods, High Paying Jobs, Taking Risks, Gambling, Explosions caused by him.
Dislikes: Waiting long periods of time, Being forced into planning out details, other Bounty Hunters/Smugglers. Sweet Foods. Explosions by other people directed at him.
Triggers/Hot Button: Plans
Skills/Strengths: Improvisation, Dependable/Reliable, Highly skilled Marksman, Charismatic, Outgoing
Flaws/Weaknesses: Impatient, Reactive, Never Has a Plan, Hot-Headed. Abrasive, Crass, Crude

[User]
A hum came from her throat as she dropped her questioning of what he meant.

"Its not favoritism if my body guard works better with his iwn equiptment but I digress." She paused a moment as he spoke of vacation, "What if we are still at war a year from now?"

"Ive only been to Takadona once on an undercover mission that ended up being a failure." She grimanced at the thought. "Still its beautiful."

"Im pretty sure my favorite mission was the Gala War mission we just went on but if I had to pick it would be the first mission I went on as the Leader of the Knights of Ren. I let two youngsters live after telling them who we were...needless to say they did their job of telling as many people as possible about us." A wicked chuckle came from her as she pulled away from Joran a bit to lean back against the door.

[Assistant]
"I can pilot just about anything you put in my hands. As long as it runs that is. Someone tried to get me to fly a ship without a real working engine once, and that didn't go too well." Joran chuckled at that thought for a moment, before shaking his head.

"If we are still at War, which I can't see us not being, I still will need to take some time off. What those files don't tell you about me is, I don't do down time. If the Emperor didn't have me on a mission, then Vader had me on a secret mission. Same here. If Snoke doesn't have me on some mission, I'm typically on loan to other higher ups in the Order, doing missions not exactly on file." He sighed as he knew why that was the case. Joran was a black ops kinda guy at this point, someone that they didn't have to report to anyone.

"If I had to absolutely choose a mission, it would probably be the one where all I did was pretty much crash a party and cause an intergalactic war... you know, all in a days work." He looked over at her and kinda frowned for a moment.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

[User]
"Huh, taking time off in the middle of battle...must be nice." Solaras mused to herself as she couldn't really picture herself doing something like that. "We both have done things that never happened," her shoulders shrugged, "...it's not too shocking to hear." She was being honest, she'd taken quite a few missions as a Knight leader her elite squad. Force knows all the atrocities her and her people have committed.

"In five years?" There was quite the pause before she spoke without a hint of remorse or regret. "Either I'll be dead or standing next to Snoke as his right hand." She could see it, either her body crumpled on some force forsaken planet or standing in her knights attire next to Supreme Leader Snoke both powerful and alone. "I mean it'd be kind of cool to be the face of The First Order but I doubt I'll still have a pretty face by the time that could happen." Her hand lightly reached up and traced the scar under her eye.

[Assistant]
"Two peas in a pod, eh?" Was the only thing that came to Joran's mind as he allowed a small sigh to escape his lips. Maybe this was really all meant to be. Maybe the Force had been guiding them to this point, and this was how everything was suppose to turn out. He was left with way more questions than he could possibly have any answers for. "You should try it sometimes. We aren't exactly always needed, and sometimes some people do just need a break from all of it."

"I'll just have to protect that pretty face then, as I don't see you being dead in five years." Joran looked away for a moment as a few images flashed in the back of his mind. "Even if it means me being dead, I'll protect you. Partners gotta have the others back, yeah?" Joran would do his damnedest to make sure that she didn't end up dead. What if those hadn't been images of the future, but just wishful thinking? He doubted she would actually want to grow that attached to him anyway.

"Well, I feel like a change of scenery is in order... Regardless if Snoke wants us to come back or not. Let's get out of this room... It's starting to weird me out."

[User]
Solaras looked at the adjacent wall to the first offending wall and seemed to accuse the second wall, teh one farthest from Joran's direction, of the same crimes as her skin tinged another shade again. Pretty? She thought to herself Why does it feel so different when he says that?

"Oh come on Smuggler, I think you're taking this body guard guise up a bit too much hahaha." She tried to laugh off the churning in the pit of her belly. The way he said it...it sat funny with her.

Solaras pushed off the ground and stood with a hand extended to him to help him up. "Oh noooow its starting to weird you out." She sarcastically questioned as she pulled him up. "If I leave this room for 5 minutes to actually brush my hair are you going to be alright?" There was a tone of teasing in her words but she was mostly serious. As much as she wanted to actually brush out her now probably kinky and frizzy hair she didn't want him having another episode and potentially making things worse.

[Assistant]
"Someone has to watch your back, since you are probably a major target now. At least it could be someone like me... On second thought, maybe I should let someone else do it." Joran teased softly as he stretched a bit from where they had been sitting on the floor way too long. Looking over at her, he noticed the slight pink hue to her face, but said nothing of it.

"Yeah, only now. Everything else has been perfectly normal, just as normal as starting an international war!" Looking directly into her eyes he could sense that what she was saying had two meanings to it. "Nope, I plan to have five more force episodes while you go in there and brush your hair. Just like the last two were definitely intentional." He rolled his eyes and shooed her off towards the bathroom. "I'll try not to destroy everything with the force this time, I promise."

[User]
Solaras straightened her clothes a moment after staring at him with a look that said nothing more than, 'Really?' in such a sarcastic tone it might be taken seriously.

She exhaled before reaching up and pulling down the mess of a bun that was her hair. She moved to the bathroom and brushed her hair out with somewhat of ease; the occasional curse coming from her when she got a brush through a knot. "You know one day I'm just going to chop all of this damn hair off." She grumbled before stepping back out with her hair replaced in a far neater looking bun and her clothing set just right. Almost like a casually dressed Knight.

She looked around the room with a smirk, "Oh would you look at that you caaaaan be left alone for more than five minutes." She was teasing of course but he was strong enough to take it. So leaned on the doorway, "Where did you want to go?"

[Assistant]
"Definitely serious. I plotting every single thing to this point, just so I could get you alone to see your bits." Joran rolled his eyes as he looked towards the wall, and lean against the wall. Listening to her complain about her hair, he only chuckled softly as he knew she wasn't going to do that, unless his vision was wrong.

That or she has a super power to grow hair back incredibly fast. Which wouldn't surprise him at this point. Not much would surprise him at this point. Running his hand through his hair, he could only think about the fact that he was now being drawn more and more deep into things that he never wanted to exactly be involved with. He didn't mind being an agent in the background, but now his face was a major factor in this war, as he was one of the ones now associated with the war.

"Do you think if this war really gains steam... We will be at the fore-front, since we technically caused it?" He asked, completely ignoring her statement. Some of the darker moments of the images in his mind were stuck there, one of which him being at the helm of a ship. Something about that made him uneasy.

[User]
Solaras stopped what she was doing immediately as Joran asked her about the future of the war. Did he regret being apart of it? Was he going to flee? Her teeth clenched together as the sudden bubbling anger rose up in her. He had to have a reason for asking such a thing.

"It all depends on how Supreme Leader wants to go about his will. Will we be in fights? Yes? Will we be on the front lines? Perhaps not. I cannot speak on both of our behalf's as we have different uses and meanings. I am meant to be Snoke's weapon- I will be fighting some very gruesome battles. You will likely remain behind the scenes, keeping the machine that is The First Order, in check." She paused before finally saying, "There is a reason I said I would likely be dead within five years, Joran Jace. I know where my use is and my use isn't long term. Perhaps it is unfortunate but I've accepted that. Your use is making sure that The First Order is kept well filled with soldiers and others to be trained and groomed into being Force Users as well....it is our place."

Solaras knew her words were harsh and that the could sound almost cruel but this was not a matter to sugar coat or to lie about. Above all else loyalty was key in The First Order- without loyalty things would begin to fall apart in the worst of ways.

[Assistant]
"Don't get me wrong, I'm in this to the end, but I just realized, I can't go back to just being a behind the scenes player. My face is going to be plastered everywhere now. You know that just as well as I do. I guess this means I'm going to be charging the front lines along side you. It's harder to do my job in a scenario where everyone knows who you are. Unless I get a face change... and I kinda really like this one. It suits me." Joran waved his hand across his face as he sighed. "I mean, this handsome face is now high up on the First Order's list, whether they want that or not. You at least have a mask you can hide behind."

"I might supply the troops, but that's certainly going to be much harder now, unless I got to some back-water planets that no one cares about, where we'll get some starving kids off the streets. It's not going to be the greatest play for me anymore. Maybe I should take up more of a morale-boosting approach? They see me on the front lines, someone that doesn't have to be there, but is willing to be there. I'm sure the New Republic will also be affected by the presence of someone they deemed a politician for the Order to be on the fronts." He looked over at her and shrugged softly.

"Oh well, just food for thought."


[System]
---

Appearance

Aged 90 | Male | 6'3 | 192 lbs

Tall, dark (not really), and handsome, or at least he considers himself as such, Benjamin sports dirty blonde hair and gray eyes. He stands on the taller side of things and has a fit figure, pale skin and long facial features giving him a rather serious look. His choice of clothing is usually simple and comfortable, preferring comfort over style, although he can dress up for the occasion if need be.

Personality
The only thing anyone needs to know about Benjamin is that he will become the next Lord of House Eve.

Benjamin comes off as a taciturn, stoic figure. That is most definitely not what he is, though it amuses him that he can have that appearance if needed. He is passionate about everything he puts his mind to, whether it be his fighting ability or endeavoring into the political world. There is very little in this world that phases or frightens him, believing that fear should serve as a motivator to improve oneself. He does, however, keep his wits about him and reacts accordingly to most situations.

While not as serious as he looks, so long as he keeps his mouth shut, he can keep that appearance up to the point that he really can be the neutral Eve he's expected to be. Instead, Benjamin is every traditionalist's nightmare: frighteningly progressive, looking solely to the future while wanting to get rid of outdated rules, and more than willing to inflict radical change if and when it is needed--and in his opinion, this world needs it sooner than later. That being said, he is smart enough to know going in with torches and pitchforks won't accomplish anything except further fighting, instead hoping he can change the system from within.

When it comes to mages, Benjamin believes their fleeting lives require guidance. Just because they aren't around long, however, doesn't mean that they shouldn't be respected. On the contrary, they very much exist as vampires do, even if they are a little frail for his taste.

Benjamin is known as the young troublemaker of the house; where most stick to the common Eve stance of neutrality, he feels that keeping that mindset is precisely what led to the house's current state. What needs to happen is change, but seeing as how he's outnumbered, change needs to come slowly but surely. While he does have sympathy for Count Lutheran, he is aware of the vampire's struggles and feels he doesn't have what it takes to properly control the rest of the family.

Bio
Benjamin always had a tendency to stir up trouble in his youth, despite being raised to be proper and poised. He liked to ask questions, he liked the freedom to do as he pleased, he disliked being told what to do, and he absolutely hated having to show 'respect' to those that often did not deserve it. Fortunately he also hated getting punished just as much, learning to keep his words to himself and keeping up the image of a proper gentleman. His family is one of the few branches that has managed to hold on to both dignity and wealth, leading to a proper upbringing and the freedom to lay out his own path--though life would show him his privilege sooner than later.

The first instance had to be at a meeting in which a mage had corrected their vampire on something. He never did remember what the information was, but he couldn't forget the way it was dealt with: a direct smack across the jaw, with absolutely no one batting an eye to the contrary. 'It was deserved' was the common consensus, followed by a shrug and a change of topic whenever he inquired. He was told that was not how mages should be: they should be seen, but not heard. That was just the way things were, but it never did sit well with him, his protests and questioning reaching a head when his own father had to get involved to stop him.

For some time Benjamin was quelled until he met Delia, a mage belonging to Duke Gethin. Their meeting was entirely on accident, with Benjamin stumbling across her while looking for his mother. It was the first time he had met a mage not belonging to his immediate family, but the two got along well. The bruises lined around her neck had gotten his attention, but she was able to successfully evade his questioning and distract him with a much too pleasant conversation. By fortune the baron was conducting some business with his father, and Benjamin insisted on going along despite being deemed too young to properly understand. The woman was rigid next to her baron during the meeting, a strange mask of neutrality that greatly contrasted the warmth he had encountered before. It was all too obvious that despite never laying a hand on her in front of them, the abuse the baron gave was apparent in the ever so slight flinch anytime the baron raised his hand.

After the meeting he managed to borrow her, asking if she was being treated badly, but she wouldn't give him any semblance of the rather obvious circumstance. Time passed and things stayed the same, and despite her warmth, it greatly disturbed him to know she was being treated in such a manner. In his foolishness, Benjamin would eventually confront the man, setting off an unfortunate chain of events that resulted in Delia's death. It was deemed an accident and swept under the rug, and aside from an obligatory warning from the Council, nothing came of it. Gethin continued to mistreat his mages, and Benjamin was shown just how powerless he was in the grand scheme of things.

Feeling responsible for Delia, he decided to dedicate his life to advocating to mage rights, finding a lot of pushback from the older generation. Rather than wait to get taken out due to his 'radical ideas', he took the initiative to undergo vigorous training, covering both long range and short range forms of fighting. His first encounter with an assailant proved that his paranoia had a place, but instead of getting shaken he actually found himself enjoying the tussle, ultimately disappointed when it ended. From that point forward made sure to divide himself between his training and his work, working slowly but surely to make sure he would see his goals through to the end.

Likes
Benjamin's passion has always been the thrill of battle first and foremost, having trained in several forms of martial arts. He values strength, both physical and mental, believing that without it very little can be accomplished. He enjoys sports of most kinds, or any physical activity, really. Traditional archery is a neat hobby he picked up around twenty years ago that he finds himself enjoying as of late.

Dislikes
Sitting still for too long tends to get to him, and while he understands education is important, he would rather sit out in the sun than willingly listen to lectures. He doesn't like the mistreatment of mages nor is fond of the idea that they are lesser. He loathes paperwork, often procrastinating unless he gets a streak of motivation. He also doesn't appreciate when he isn't being taken seriously; disrespect is more insulting than any combination of petty words or even a thrown punch to him.

Habits
He loves to play darts as it keeps his aim right. Whenever stressed he tends to go completely mute as he mentally drowns in his own thoughts. He's a bit of a slob; if it isn't important paperwork (and even that is haphazardly, if not at least kept securely in a safe), his personal possessions often getting lost or turning up in random places. He gets lost in his thoughts a little too easily, often spacing out at inopportune times during conversations.

Other
His forte is ranged combat, favoring bows and crossbows with an assortment of throwing knives often carried around. He does have a falchion dubbed Sigmund that was given to him after completing basic training. His ears are pierced to match his mages, each one wearing small silver studs with the Eve insignia engraved into them.

[User]
---

Max blinked in exaggerated slowness at Lilie's question, then let out a monotone, bitter laugh a moment later after flatly staring at her failed to sufficiently convey his displeasure. Was she serious? Either she thought he was some 'starving artist' loser or she was mocking him; he didn't know which was the greater insult.

"Funny," he muttered in a particularly sour tone. If she wanted to talk about art, she should've gone to the fucking hippie. On the contrary, Aaron, the hard part started right now - he didn't give a fuck if the vampires liked Eris' stupid tree, but like hell was he going to sit here and have a pretentious discussion about the pile of crap he flung together like some jackass at an art gallery.

"What the fuck do mages do at these parties? I'm apparently not allowed to fall asleep," Actually, Eris only said 'try not to', so maybe he'd get away with it, "but I don't really see why that matters if we're stuck just sitting on the couch." Honestly, he wasn't even surprised that some mages were eager to play waiter during these events, menial servitude was at least engaging. Idle gossip was a chore because everyone in the conversation was a potential enemy, and the insistence that mages be seen made it hard to go do something more entertaining whle the vampires played at high society. Shadowing Eris was an easy way of keeping other mages too intimidated to interact with him, but with the groups separated his only protection was his attitude. Unfortunately, familiarity breeds contempt and Max doubted any of the nobles' pets would fuck off no matter how long he glared at them. Even then, he'd just be staring at the wall in silence without an objective.

Damn it, Eris was somehow a secret genius turning him into a workaholic and that stupid fuck probably didn't even realize it.

---

[Assistant]
---

---

That...was not a good question to ask. Lilie couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, knowing that no matter how she replied, Max would definitely know she messed up. Shoot, she was so sure she'd move past the phase of embarrassing herself. Maybe engaging him was a mistake? No, maybe she should have been more direct with her questioning? She was still curious about the sculpture but she was pretty sure if she asked again he was definitely going to get mad.

Fortunately, his response did bring up a really good point: what were they supposed to do? Just talk? "Actually, that's a good question. Are we supposed to just sit here and wait for the vampires to finish? Seems like a waste," Lilie said, frowning. At least the Revel had music loud enough to dance, the melody playing over by the vampires was definitely meant to be background noise. Speaking of that, she hadn't seen a genuine phonograph in years, not since her grandmother had passed. Well, Ben could barely operate his phone so maybe it wasn't that surprising.

Her eyes trailed from the hall to Aaron, who was standing behind the couch. Why was he standing? He said it himself, the performances were over. Making sure she caught his eye, she patted the seat next to her with what she hoped was an inviting smile. He had complimented them all, but she really wanted to know what he thought personally.

---

[User]
The array of talents displayed by the mages was a delightful and pleasant surprise. There were some whose talents shined more than others but overall Ben enjoyed everything from start to finish. He remained his polite applause throughout with a relatively neutral expression, only wishing the show continued for just a moment longer. Anything would have sufficed to quell the belated dread forming in his chest. For one, his dream of a relaxed evening had all but fluttered through the wind the moment he laid eyes on that pompous asshole. Why Eris Samael was here was beyond him; if their conversation held as much merit as he had initially assumed, the two lovers were quarreling. Perhaps they made up by now. Perhaps Count Sinnenodel had caught wind on how much of a bane to his existence Eris was. Just the sight of that hint of a smirk on said vampire's face was almost enough to give Ben vicious thoughts and fantasies where he could wipe the look off his face with a simple, yet effective punch.

But the overblown peacock was not his current concern, his presence as unwelcoming as it was. Dancing in the tall grass with a snake coming around was a risk he was willing to take, however, he was not as eager to dance with so many people around. Until now, he had interacted at a base, neutral tone with Count Sinnenodel. Now that the rest of the nobles were around he would have to ensure he remained perfectly neutral for all intents and purposes. Except neutrality could be misinterpreted as weakness to a Sinnenodel, so it was best he replied in kind. Except disrespect without the might to back it up wouldn't impress an Astorio. There was also the countess to consider, and the growing thorn in his side that was that blonde idiot. Needless to say while he was up for the challenge of juggling every relationship, Ben was just a touch stressed.

The introduction did little to surprise him. Eris Samael must have been over the moon to be introduced first. Was it possible that it was a statement of sorts? It was bold and a waste in his opinion. To be fair, Count Sinnenodel could have introduced a sack of flour first and Ben would have found that much more suitable. He was, however, surprised at the comment that followed. He wasn't aware Eris had dipped into the political field farther than gaining access to the Sinnenodel Dorm on the weekly. Or is that what they were calling it these days? He would have to think about it. He was glad to see Count Astorio and Countess Marivaldi at least, his polite smile nearly betraying him at his comment on the Astorio. Playing school was what they were all doing considering each of them were only here due to Her Highness' summons. The lack of comment on Countess Marivaldi did at least tell him they were equally clueless to her intentions. How oddly comforting.

"I am honored to make your acquaintance. Truly," Ben said. His response was punctuated by a swig of his own glass, the sweetness familiar to him. "Watching the budding mages display their skills and knowing which way to direct them is a valuable if not necessary ability among the nobility."

He paid the comment and didn't care much how it would be taken. It was one way to start a conversation while he could see what the other nobles would respond with.


[System]
Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Outreman, previously citizen of Angjusk

Occupation: Deputy head of department - Cradle Research & Development

Cybernetics:
* Cradle quick-access implant - Allows access to and from the Cradle environment without additional hardware. This advanced module also reduces fatigue caused by the process, allowing power users multiple entries in a single day.
* Tier 7c 'Cradle Builder' suite - Grants access to the programs created specifically for 'terraforming' the Cradle. Tier 7 out of 20 allows Freyr to auto-build a variety of specialised equipment and propose-build mid level structures.
* Ilyes Brand communication and productivity module - Standard implant for access to Outremer's communications network. Also integrates with many well known productivity tools like a personal assistant, as well as more bespoke scientific tools.

Backstory:
Freyr was born on Angjusk, an older colony than Outremer that was renowned for its military materiel, particularly star ships.

Her mother was an innovations tsar assigned by the government to a consortium of the planet's largest ship manufacturers. During most of Freyr's childhood, her mother's sole task was making sure Angjusk battle fleets were the best money could buy in the Diaspora.

Before she was born, her father owned and operated a series of protein farms across Angjusk. After a chance encounter at a lobby meeting, he was headhunted to co-ordinate the military industrial complex's entire food supply chain. He also met his future wife, as it was Freyr's mother who had recommended him for the job on that fateful day in the lobby.

Freyr was born five years later. Her early life was a whirlwind of schooling, snatches of intimacy with her parents (when they weren't busy) and extended periods with friends. She discovered a natural capacity for learning and excelled in her studies. So much so that she received offers from universities across the Diaspora to come and develop with them.

Her mother and father both pressured her to consider diplomas like Interplanetary Relations or Agrarian Policy. However Freyr was not interested in pursuing a career in politics. Angjusk has been involved in at least a dozen small conflicts since Freyr had been born. She had seen how politicians would destroy entire cultures for the sake of influence, and wanted none of it.

In her first act of defiance, Freyr accepted a position at a school in Babylon, the main city of a far away frontier colony called Outremer. Driven more by the desire to have time away from her planet than by the subjects on offer, she researched what Outremer was known for. It was here that she first discovered the object powering this section of the Diaspora - the Cradle.

She quickly became obsessed with its untapped potential and seemingly unknowable past. She decided to pursue Xenobiology and Machine Intelligence as her subjects of interest, voraciously consuming the knowledge gathered so far on the Cradle.

It was here at the university that she met her future partner, David, who was studying art history. Isolated from her family and friends, alone on a strange planet, Freyr was glad of his unassuming company and kindness. They grew very close over the course of their degrees, and moved in together after graduation. Their daughter Amy was born a few years later.

After Uni, Freyr was picked up by an Outremer administration outreach team and placed in a government career fast lane. Her obsession with the Cradle made her an obvious choice for the Cradle Research & Development department. Once there, she quickly proved herself capable. Several breakthroughs in her first five years meant she was allowed to hand select a team of dynamic young individuals to help pursue her work. A couple more catapulted her into a deputy head of department role, to the ire of some of it's older and more entrenched members.

It was on her 34th birthday that the Cradle abducted her family. It had been acting strangely for weeks prior, rolling back years of terraforming. Freyr had been working round the clock to figure out why, practically living at her field office by the Border. David had bought sweet treats and had Amy with her.

What can only be described as creatures emerged from beyond the Border and overran the camp. A panic spread through the mostly unarmed workers, leading many to flee for their lives. Freyr's last memory of her family was being propelled across the camp by one of the creatures. She could only watch from her position immobile on the floor as they carried off her husband and little girl.

Security forces conducted a sweep of the immediate area beyond the Border, but found no sign of them. So Freyr began looking by herself as soon as her broken bones were reconstructed. Months went by. Her work stopped and her mental health deteriorated. Eventually she was placed on sick leave and her access revoked, after she attempted to use her influence to organise an armed excursion deep into the uncontrolled zone.

[User]
Fortunately for Vreta, the bridge was not terribly far from the labs, so he did not have to wait too long for Freyr to arrive from her short meeting with the captain. He did have at least some interest in watching the Humans at work, if only to better familiarize himself with their methods, as well as the capabilities of their machines. He was, after all, going to be working to facilitate cooperation between them and his own people. In his honest opinion, it could be difficult to reconcile the differences in their methods, but he could at least try to set the proper expectations for both sides.

"Of course, it is good to see you both again." Vreta replied with a friendly smile before readily following Freyr towards the office. It was a fairly small room, and like much of the rest of the ship, the air was just a bit cooler than he would prefer. Being that he was the only Rothian on board, though, he did not expect anything but his own room to accommodate his preferences. At least, he expected that his room would match the preferences of Rothians. He had not actually been to it yet.

In any case, Vreta began right away as soon as they were in the room. "Here's hoping our conversation is not interrupted by mortal peril this time. How have you been, since we last spoke? Before today, I mean. I myself have been…somewhat relaxed back on Rothia. I decided it was time for me to retire from my corporate life. I considered retiring entirely for a century or two, but then the Rothian government came to me, specifically, with an offer for this position. I guess my experience made me a perfect fit, and as much as I have come to despise the Cradle, I suppose I can admit some curiosity towards understanding it."

[Assistant]
The corner office was small and boxy. But it did have Freyr's name on the door, a desk with a small bottle of Angjuskian Scotch wrapped in ribbon atop it, and views of the entire lab through plate glass windows. She was pleased to see the office was soundproofed; when Masgard closed the door behind them the noise of rapid assembly outside lowered significantly. "Ahh, the good stuff. Complements of the captain; very nice. I don't drink Scotch, myself. Do you?" Freyr studied the label before placing the bottle back down on the desk. She sat down and ran her fingers through her hair. It'd been another really long day.

"Well, i'm sorry you've been dragged back into this." Freyr chuckled humourlessly upon hearing what Vreta had been up to. "I've been working nonstop, to tell you the truth." She continued. "Masgard, what can i say?"

"We have an operational partnership with the Rothians, so whatever you think will be useful to the mission." Freyr nodded gratefully.

"Then i can tell you that things are bad. We're making good progress in developing weapons and structures that can combat the Cradle's creatures. But so far we haven't been able to stop this gradual encroachment on the occupied zone. The Border is currently consuming about 1% of the occupied zone per week. There are signs that may increase, too." On a whim, Freyr grabbed the bottle of Scotch and opened it, taking a sniff. "It's hard to predict what we'll find on Rothia, if anything. But my hope is it's something we can use to communicate properly with the Cradle. Negotiate peace with it; if it's capable of rational thought."

Freyr took a small sip from the bottle, and wrinkled her nose immediately. "Eurgh, that is strong." She offered the bottle to Masgard, who took a gulp and seemed to quite like it. He offered it to Vreta.

[User]
Vreta took the bottle in hand and gave it a quick sniff. The strong scent of alcohol was familiar. Even being alien to him as it was, ethanol was a fairly common compound on worlds with life, and it affected many living creatures in the same ways. Regardless, he cautiously took a drink, if only because he was not sure about the taste, but he was not disappointed.

"I shall be honest with you, many of the scientists I spoke to on Rothia are not confident that we will find anything at all." Vreta said, placing down the bottle on the desk in the middle of the three of them. "Since we learned about this, we have scanned our whole planet a few times over and found nothing unusual. Though, it is our understanding that you have specific coordinates for us to search. Once we have those, hopefully we will be able to find something."

Vreta took a moment to think on the situation Freyr had described in the Cradle. The Rothians had strongly suspected that the situation was not under control, but now he was getting confirmation of it, with concrete numbers. And certainly, this news was not encouraging. "The gravity of your situation may be lost on some of the other Rothian members of the team, but I know how connected Outremer has become to the Cradle. I know that your planet cannot just…stop using it, as some might suggest. It's a problem we have to solve, not one we can just give up on if things do not go our way.I do hope we can find that solution, if not on Rothia, then with the combined efforts of our scientists when we come to Outremer. Our technology is similarly advanced to that of the Cradle, so, and I mean no offense with this statement, our scientists may be better able to understand its intricacies. I am not disparaging your species, I mean only that our scientists will have hundreds more years of technological and scientific advancement to draw upon."

[Assistant]
Freyr shared a quick glance with Masgard while Vreta was just finishing his piece. He gave her an ...ok look before reaching for the bottle of scotch again. Freyr absently opened the top left drawer on her new desk, and was rewarded with the sight of four durable Navy tumblers tucked away in there. She quickly pulled three out and slid them across the metal desk toward the bottle and Masgard's outstretched hand. "I mean, it is the weekend. And we've had something of a day." Freyr explained to Masgard, her hands raised at her sides while she nodded to Vreta. Her lawyer grinned guardedly, his head tilted downward as he poured a double measure in each glass.

"I hope you are able to figure the Cradle out." Freyr replied solemnly as she got her glass back, filled now, from Masgard. "Because, there is a distinct possibility we're travelling all this way for nothing. But on the off-chance we do find something, it could change our relationship with the Cradle forever. Our saving grace, if we don't find anything, is that we'll still be able to work on the Cradle problem from our new lab. We can call it a very expensive cultural exchange mission." She took a drink from her newly charged glass, and recoiled at the intense mix of flavours. "So, what would you say we need to keep in mind for our interactions with Rothia in general?" Freyr asked when she had recovered.

[User]
Vreta did not respond immediately, instead taking a drink from the glass he was given as he collected his thoughts. Even for a larger being like himself, who was accustomed to somewhat stronger spirits, he still showed a strong reaction to the scotch. Still, he did not remain distracted for long. "If I am being honest, there will be some hurdles to overcome if we are to make this a truly cooperative venture. And many of those will come from my people. As I mentioned, the Rothians have centuries of scientific advancement ahead of Humanity. There is a perception among my people that Humanity, and indeed many other species we have met in this galaxy, are a 'young' species."

There was another pause for another drink from Vreta. He knew he was approaching a delicate subject, and so he needed to be careful in how he approached it. He expected that Rothian scientists would be doing the heavy lifting in terms of their research, but he certainly wanted to avoid any more tension than necessary, and if the Human teams could legitimately help, that would be all the better. "I would say to try to imagine what it would be like to work with a scientist from hundreds of years ago in your own past. Say, a scientist from before your species left your home solar system. If your people are anything like mine, you have probably improved your understanding of science considerably in that time, and that scientist would be operating on theories and assumptions you know to be incorrect. I expect that some Rothian scientists may feel frustrated about this, and they may feel that they are going to have to spend much of their time just 'catching you up'. I hope to prevent that issue. I know that your people are capable, and I think that your years of experience with the Cradle will be valuable. Going back to that analogy of working with a scientist from your past, how do you think you would go about working with them?"

[Assistant]
Freyr frowned and cleared her throat, invoking a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste from the scotch. She leaned forward slightly, cradling her tumbler in both hands, and smiled sweetly at Vreta. "By the end of today, there'll be twenty of the foremost minds on the Cradle aboard this ship. I'm privileged to lead them. Between us, we have about four hundred and fifty years of hands-on experience with a machine intelligence that's almost certainly older than both our civilisations. The rest of my division is just a conference call away; at least another six hundred years of experience to apply to this problem. If anyone is going to be 'catching up', it is your team."

Freyr leaned back and took another sip of her scotch, arms resting lightly on the arms of her seat. Masgard gave her an approving look from where he leaned against the plate glass window. "Your improved understanding of the natural world will come in useful, for sure. It may be that working around the Cradle may yield some kind of breakthrough. But let's be clear - while the Cradle environment shares similarities with the outside world, it's also infinitely more complex. We underestimated it before, and it took my family. I'm determined not to underestimate it again. We should prepare for all possible outcomes to this expedition. What kind of resources do we have at our disposal while on Rothia?"


[System]
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Species: Dracoavian
Image created by Ridlins.

Stands at five feet, seven inches tall.
Bio: Trevor lived a relatively normal, boring life, though, for some reason, he was absolutely okay with that. When he was a child, he was always the target of bullies due to his love for video games, and general nerdiness, however, he was one of the few nerds who could and would fight back, and even so, with surprising strength. If he didn't change schools every year due to his parents moving, he probably wouldn't have gotten picked on after the first time... that isn't to say he didn't get in trouble, since he was bad at trying to convince people, and everyone always thought he was lying, despite Trevor typically not being one TO lie. At first he didn't really think he HAD anger issues, but all of that changed in the seventh grade, when he was just awake enough to notice that he was blacking out, and going completely berserk... the last sight he could remember seeing was his fellow students running away from him, or getting out of his way... funny thing, he doesn't even remember what GOT him that angry, but that incident caused him to finally agree to work out that issue.

 He has since calmed down, and hasn't gotten in any more fights, since most of the bullies in high school remembered him from at least one of the elementary schools he went to, and they didn't want to mess with him. He has since just finished college, getting a degree in computer programming, of all things, and he took his first interview for his first real job... his first day was going to be in a couple days, but he was, hilariously enough, excited about this. This was going to be the start of a brand new chapter in his life, and of course, he didn't think the meteor would actually hit until yesterday, and that REALLY soured his mood for a bit, but then he said to himself 'Well, if it's the last day for humans, let it be known that I really tried to adult' he chuckled at his own joke, and tried to live the last day as if it truly were the last. He tried all sorts of new food, all kinds of new activities with all of his friends, even introducing a few of them to others, and blew most of the cash he had in his wallet. He ended up DEAD tired when he got back home, though, he really didn't want this last day to end for various reasons, his body just wouldn't let him stay up any longer...

 However, much to his surprise, Trevor somehow woke up the next day, though, not everything was where it normally was, specifically, there were feathers and scales everywhere, and he had a long, blue thing blocking his vision... and he felt like he had a tail and wings, but, that can't be possible, right?

Weaknesses (x2): Ice, Stone, and Nature magic
Strengths: x0.5 - Water, x0 - Fire, x-1 - Lightning

Skills:
Fisticuffs: Not one to use weapons, Trevor prefers to just punch the enemy, despite the fact that his claws might be a better choice. He uses no real fighting style, since he was never trained, but there's enough strength behind his punches to make this a viable option.

Fire: Firebreath, and some other fiery skills... Trevor's alright at it, but some of the more advanced fire moves tend to come with some sort of drawback for him... he uses it as recklessly as one would expect.

 Flame Drill: A skill in which Trevor imitates a drill and drills through the opponent using his tough claws, and a dose of fire breath. A powerful move that can easily hit weak points and ignores an enemy's defense, but it also leaves Trevor dizzy, and unable to accurately attack for a while after its use.

Lightning: Trevor's a natural at using electrical abilities, apparently, and he tends to shoot said lightning from the tips of his claws, often shaping his hand to look kind of like a gun and even occasionally saying 'pew, pew' when he does so.

 Energize: Trevor can use some of his own electricity to give one of his teammates, or himself, a sudden burst of energy. Heals HP, and can restore some lost magic... costs a decent amount of magic to use, however.

Runes: Scan Rune - Allows one to use the 'Scan' skill both inside and outside of battle... said skill allows the user to read alien languages, and know the strengths and weaknesses of enemies once it's used on a sample of that language, and an enemy, respectively. This rune doesn't need to be equipped to any skill slot, and doesn't require any real magic to use.

 Heal Rune - Allows the use of one type of healing magic, depending on which type of magic it's equipped to. In this case, it allows the use of the magic skill 'Energize', since it's equipped to his lightning magic.
Other: Nothing.

[User]
Mia

---

 Jason and Shaula were fighting again. Normally she wouldn't pay them any mind, but this was probably the worst possible time for them to start arguing. "That's enough!" She approached Jason, and made sure to speak quietly enough that Shaula couldn't hear her. "Just let her ramble. Can't you see she's distracting him?"

 Mia quickly darted away from the frontline, not wanting to be in range when the ghost finally decided to attack. She tried to think of a plan that would allow them to defeat the ghost without hurting Trevor too badly. The best she could think of was to pin him down, and make sure he couldn't move. That would be risky, though. They'd have to make sure he couldn't hit anyone with magic, and even if they managed to do that, the ghost might just leave Trevor's body to possess someone else. Perhaps knocking him out was the only solution, after all.

[Assistant] Celina's second hammer didn't quite hit the ghost's stomach, but it did still damage him, unlike the strange item that Shaula threw at him. "Now... what is this? Seems to be hard, at least... maybe I could throw it at someone," the ghost said as he picked the thing up with no ill effects. He then searched the room for someone who he wanted to attack from a range, eventually throwing the thing at Mia... of course, he threw it pretty fast, and only after catching it on fire, so it would probably do SOME damage if it hit. He then said "Aha, THAT'S how he's been fighting... with his fists, and pure muscle, rather than skill!" after that, he flew down to Jason just to try to punch him in the back of the head while he was still arguing with Shaula about the... thing. Dang it, Shaula... why'd you have to throw that thing at him? All you did was give him a weapon, and an idea... Trevor thought as the ghost still possessed him. He really wanted it to stop, but he knew that if he were to force the ghost out of him some other way, it wouldn't 'count', somehow. Thankfully, Shaula's beliefs were proved wrong as the thing did nothing to stop the possession, even after the ghost picked it up, else we'd be called 'cheaters' or 'dishonorable', or something similar.

[User] Celina though about all this. "We need to knock him out!" she says before thinking, remembering the move that Trevor did before on the door and what she copied. Considering all this, she probably would need to try something different then that, but maybe similar. She breathe deeply before forcing her arms onto the ground and moving back, taking her distance before then sending herself flying like a slingshot into the air and spin quickly forwards, letting her slime move very rapidly as she rolls like a ball. She wanted to cannonball that ghost right now, hoping that this would work, hoping to really do a lot of damage and get him to leave Trevor's body. She didn't want this to continue. Never know... Maybe this would surprise the ghost, make him lose focus or something and get hit really hard. She just really hoped this would work, cause god knows that it was not going to be easy at all to deal with Trevor's lightning right now.

[Assistant] He screeches, and catches Trevor's arm, his eyes blazing. "Get. Out. Of. My. Friend!" He swings Trevor around his body, slamming him into Shaula, his hands and wings burning. He cries out in agony as the lightning sears his skin, and roundhouse kicks him in the gut, sending Trevor flying, and jumps after him, bringing his knee into Trevors head to knock him out. He looks back at Shaula with murder and fury in his eyes. "Shut up." His body glows brightly. "Just shut up, you idiot."

[User]
Mia

---

 Unsurprisingly, Shaula's 'orgone emitter' did nothing. That wouldn't have been much of a problem, if the ghost hadn't decided to use it as a weapon. Before Mia could even react, the strange glass pyramid was hurtling toward her. It probably wouldn't have done much, if it hadn't been lit on fire. She ended up with a pretty nasty burn on her shoulder.

 She was already in the backline, but she got back even further so she could heal herself. She really didn't want to take another attack like that. As her healing vines spread over her injured shoulder, she noticed that Jason and Shaula were still fighting. "That's enough! Both of you!" She wasn't entirely sure that just shouting at them would be enough to stop them, but there was no harm in trying.

[Assistant] The counter throw and roundhouse kick sent the body that the ghost was possessing flying right into Celina, who made herself hard enough to deal damage with her cannonball attack... not to mention, that hit the ghost, or rather, Trevor's body right in the head. The ghost struggled to get up, and he even commented "This body doesn't have much stamina... does it?" with a cough before adding "I don't want to..." before getting interrupted by a cough, he then continued "... kill this body... I should leave before I take some more serious damage," with that, the ghost left, and searched for a new body to possess while Trevor was face-down on the rocky ground. Soon enough, the ghost made its way to Celina, possessing her body as Trevor gathered up his willpower to stand back up. "Dang, you guys can hit hard when you need to..." he commented, noting just how badly beat up he was, especially given that nobody here should know how to use their body or their magic, yet... he then used his healing rune for the first time to heal himself, using his electricity to stimulate and energize his body and also to speed up the natural healing process. After the lightning finished its job, Trevor felt both physically and mentally healed, somehow... he felt ready to fight again, if he had to... but it looked like he'd have to wait until the ghost was done possessing Celina, unfortunately, since he couldn't attack the ghost while it wasn't in a body.

[User] When Celina saw that the ghost was finally beaten, she let out a sigh of relief… before seeing the ghost going straight at her! She did not expect it at the moment and she suddenly was losing possession of her body! She tried to fight it, trying to figure out anything. The ghost then feels the body. "Strange… and what type of magic… uhm. Art… let's see…" the ghost then says before then starting to draw some small dragons, trying to be quick and making a lot of them to then send them straight towards the group right now to try to damage them as best as he could, having them go and bite them and trying to bite hard to do a lot of damage. Celina just saw this and was very worried right now about all this. She wished she could go and take back control of her body right now… wishing that she could do something to help the group.

[Assistant]
Mia

---

 Just as Mia had finished patching up her wounds, the ghost finally left Trevor's body. For a moment, it seemed like the fight was over. Trevor was pretty banged up, but at least he was still conscious. Mia rushed to his side. "Trevor, you're hurt. Come here, I'll-" Before Mia even had a chance to use her own healing magic, electricity began to arc throughout Trevor's body. Oddly enough, this appeared to heal him.

 Before she could say another word, the ghost picked a new target - Celina. This fight was far from over, it seemed. The first thing she did was summon miniature dragons, several of which headed straight for Mia. Despite her attempts to avoid them, they quickly closed in on her. She let out a yelp of pain as the began to claw and bite at her. She tried to bind them and pull them away with vines, to no avail. With no other options, she called out to her teammates. "Guys, I need some help!"

[User] Jason rushes to Mai, banishing his swords, and starts trying to get the tiny dragons away from them, lashing out with his fire. He tosses the tiny drakes aside, hurling them away, and screeches in pain as they bite and claw his wings. "Nahhh! Get off of me!" His body flares, and he takes to the air, spinning as he tries to dislodge the tiny drawings. "How many times are we going to go though this?" He incinerates the few drawings still clinging to him, and winces from pain, bleeding from dozens of little cuts. He tosses the drakes off of Mai, only to be swarmed again. He screeches in anger and pain, and raises his hand, a ball of fire growing in his palm, getting bigger by the second. He backs away from Mai so she won't be hurt by the blaze, and the fireball explodes, engulfing his body in flames. They...don't hurt, much to his surprise.

[Assistant] Trevor barely had enough time to get his bearings before the ghost decided to lash out with an art attack, hitting everyone with tiny, clawing, biting dragons. Trevor tried his best to evade them, and while he was quick enough to dodge a few, the rest seemed to get to him, dealing some damage before he started attacking back with his fire breath... with them gone, Trevor turned his focus on Mia, the team's main healer, who seemed to be in danger, and he focused for a moment, and used his 'Energize' spell on her, hopefully healing her body, and refilling some of her magical reserves. "Whew... good thing I got that heal rune, huh?" Trevor pointed out to the group as he noticed that Shaula was being quiet, and was probably busy gathering her things again. Trevor then tried to make his way towards Mia to try to take some of the attacks for her, as he knew quite well that without her, things were NOT going to go well. Sure, Trevor could heal, but he could only heal one person at a time, and even then, he can't heal as much health as she can. "Hey... thanks for trying to protect her, too, Jason... sorry for starting this whole... ordeal," Trevor then said apologetically. He didn't realize just how much pain this ghost would cause, and he thought it might just be over after one possession... no, it was, in fact, very far from over, unfortunately, as the ghost still had to possess Shaula, Mia, and Jason, though, something told Trevor that Jason was going to do everything he could to try to stop the ghost from getting any sort of control, though, whether or not that could actually work remained to be seen.