[System]
Age:
25

Race:
Nord

Sex:
Male

Birthsign:
The Steed

Specialisation:
Combat

Class:
Warrior

Skills:
* Expert: Blunt (Two Handed)
* Journeyman: Block
* Journeyman: Smithing
* Apprentice: Hunting
* Apprentice: Heavy Armor
* Apprentice: Blunt (One Handed)
* Novice: Heavy Armor
* Novice: Athletics
* Novice: Acrobatics
* Novice: Two Handed (Staves, Polearms)

Appearance:
If Bardeck could be described in one word, it would be 'rugged.' His black hair is wavy and barely falls short of reaching his broad shoulders. This coupled with his 5'oclock shadow give him an unkempt visage. The young man's body is muscled yet lean, his skin having bronzed from the constant work outdoors (and thanks to his father's blood). He prefers wearing sturdy leather trousers, loose fitting but snug at the waist, tied by a plain brown sash belt. When in combat or preparing, he wears iron armor over a linen tunic. Outside of combat, he simply wears the tunic, usually opened in the center. If he's alone he'll go shirtless, simply enjoying the breeze and the heat of the day. His height is fairly average for an Imperial, not short by any means but not particularly tall. His callused and scarred hands are rough but firm to the touch (much like the rest of him). His caramel eyes are the softest part of him, full of life and passion, fiery wonder, and sometimes innocent curiosity.

Personality:
Bradeck can be described as a rough and ready warrior. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his loyalty to those he deems worthy. He's not particularly book smart, and can miss a few finer details of a more subtle plan when he's ready to fight in combat. Despite that, he's intuitive and introspective, with a quick mind and a dry wit. He has a quiet, a down to earth wisdom that often views the world in a pragmatic, useful manner. He's quite a passionate and creative individual when opened up to someone.

Due to his childhood being spent with male friends, and the only females he spent much time with were family members or female Orcs that would sooner hit him than hit on him, he's quite confused when it comes to romance. It's a coin toss on whether he gets very defensive and stand offish, or very stuttering and shy. It's just not his element. He respects warriors and those who pull their own weight or who show great skill. He's annoyed at laziness and dishonesty. He doesn't pick fights easily however, and only do it when he truly thinks its called for, and that's after one too many times of blundering. Not after strike one. Though he might be outspoken and blunt at his disapproval.

Backstory:
Bardeck was born in Anvil, to an Imperial ex-soldier father and a Nordic mother. They resided there for 7 years. Bardeck enjoyed swimming and exploring the surrounding woods, fascinated by the untold wilderness. At age 8, his mother's father passed away, and they moved to Skyrim in Markarth where his grandmother still resided to help her live and keep her company. His parents began a moderately successful trading business.

Bradeck wasn't quite used to the new surroundings, and was bullied by the Nordic children other than a select few whom he'd later name as his best friends. On one occasion, the other children began to rough him up near the back end of Markarth, when the Orcish smith knocked them back and bared his great fangs, causing them to flee. He gave some gruff advice to Bradeck, telling him not to let other kids push him around. He went back to his smithy.

Bradeck began to visit the smith every now and then, watching him at his work. Eventually they exchanged names. Rogath was the Orc's name, and he took a liking to Bradeck's inquisitive nature, allowing him to learn a few tricks of the trade while they spent time together through offhand advice. During this time, Bradeck would learn a few pointers of combat from his father after helping unload the carts coming to the city.

Bradeck was there when his grandmother passed away, holding his mother and crying with her when he was 14 years old. The death of his grandmother sparked questions on who he was in his mind. He felt a sense of pride to both his stoic northern blood and southern mercantile roots, but felt a kinship to Rogath and his rough nature. One day, Rogath announced he was traveling back to his homeland, and Bradeck begged him to let him go with him.

At first the Orsimer refused, but then lamented if Bradeck had the strength to go and fetch a bear pelt out in the wild. The boy felt elated, for he knew how to hunt and had the knowledge of a few bear caves, though he knew it would not be an easy quarry. He set off one morning, and found one of the bear frequented caverns. He entered, but instead found the bear dead already. He exploded further, but was discovered by a hungry vampire that had decided to hide here in order to terrorize the travelers of Markarth with relative ease.

Bradeck, armed with a battlaxe, fought for his life. He had wounded the Vampire's hip when the beast had underestimated him, but was quickly overwhelmed and thrown down the cavern. The Vampire leaped at him, intending to kill him. He used the spike on the end of his Battleaxe to impale the flying creature, bowling him over and then decapitating the bloodsucker. Rogath was then presented with both a Bear pelt and Vampire Ash. He had become Blood-Kin.

They traveled to Orsinium and lived in one of the outer lying clans. He grew in both body and spirit, learning advanced combat and Smithing techniques. His fit frame turned muscular, and his mind grew sharper with his exposure to various cultures. The Nordic city of Markarth had helped him deal somewhat with the rough living of Orisinium, truth be told. He was given a warhound Puppy named Gideon on his 21st birthday.

Age 21, he left and decided to become a mercenary and journeyman smith, heading through Hammerfell and working there in various jobs for a year before making it to Cyrodiil, living there ever since. He was recently hired to Kvatch as a caravan guard. A relatively simple job he had thought...

Spells:

Inventory:
* Cutie Patoot WarDog
* Steel Hand Axe
* Iron Armor
* Iron Shield
* 2 x Healing Potion
* 3 x Bear Pelts
* 3 x Wolf Pelts
* 2 pounds of Venison
* 1 Water Jug
* Clothing

[User]
"Almighty Akatosh, Dragon of Time, One-Above-All, safeguard this great empire through these troubling times, and may it stand tall against this looming threat...Mother Mara, Life Giver, One-Of-Love-Eternal, let not the people of Tamriel forget to afford their hearts to one another, and guide them through this dark night to peace...Mighty Stendarr, Ever Merciful, One-Most-Just, give your humble servant the strength to strike down the beasts that seek to bring harm to your people, and render unto them your blessings, so that they all may see the next sun..."

Hands clasped and hammer laid flat in front of him, Orintur prayed to the Divines near the front doors of the chapel, ever ready to stand tall and bring heavy steel to the heads of any daedra foolish enough to enter. None would so much as brush against the people hiding further within, not as long as he lived, and the stout elf did not intend on dying any time soon. Finishing his prayers, Orintur rose and grasped he long oak handle of his hammer confidently, his face obscured by the large front plate of his helmet.

All Orintur had wanted to do that day was pray in the chapel, in mourning of the late Emperor. It was supposed to be a simple event, invoking the basic rites of Akatosh and praying in hopes of guidance and prosperity for the Empire, just as Orintur was taught. But then that gate opened, flooding Kvatch with daedra that slaughtered and set aflame everything in their path. The only thing keeping them out of the chapel was a large piece of rubble obstructing the main doors, forcing them through the one side-door. The chokepoint made them easy pickings, and so the cowardly demons simply sat outside after five of their brethren were destroyed.

In the dreadful silence that permeated the chapel, Orintur wondered to himself just how this all happened. How did these demons find their way into Tamriel, on their own no less? That flaming hellgate was certainly not the work of any conjurer, and no mage, no matter how strong, could bring forth so many daedra of their own volition. Then there was the fact that they seemed to be strangely...organized. Was this planned? Was the Empire being invaded by the Princes themselves!? Nothing about the situated boded well, and Orintur could only hope Kvatch received reinforcements, and that they could close the hellgate and gain access to the city. Until then, Orintur had only his hammer, and his faith in the divines.

[Assistant]
Adamiir Thiich - Kvatch Chapel - Pondering
As a rule, Adamiir liked to avoid any location that seemed particularly shifty. He and Morinus once passed through a town called Hackdirt, and since then Adamiir had given the place a wide berth on all future travels. This was a rule, one that he followed religiously. The problem then, with Kvatch, was that on no occasion did Adamiir even entertain the idea that the city might be anything more than just that; a city. What the Breton did not then understand, was why Mehrunes Dagon himself decided that parking the front door to his personal realm of hell in front of the city gates was a good idea. Not that the event didn't intrigue Adamiir, quite the opposite in fact. The opening of a stable gate to any realm of Oblivion of that size was thought to be an impossibility. Being on the receiving end of an invasion of merciless daedra was proving to be a most exciting venture.

The experience was not without its drawbacks, however.

The end result of this misadventure was very clear to him. He, and everyone else in this godsforsaken chapel were going to wind up with their heads on pikes, or as scraps for the scampy's perhaps. One thing was certain, however. They were all… "...going to die." Adamiir's voice rang out across the room, piercing the uncomfortable silence that until this point consisted mostly of murmured prayers and muted sobs. He paused for a moment, smiling warmly at anyone attempting to make eye contact with him, before taking long strides over to the other side of the chapel. The people over here were further away, and he would have appeared quieter to them, ergo, anyone here would be less likely to dislike him should he make an attempt at conversation. The most likely looking individual was a Bosmer talking to a small bird perched on her shoulder, a magpie if Adamiir was not mistaken. How delightful! He once had a vivid dream that he himself was a vulture, and had since then held a great respect for most if not all avian creatures.

The Bosmer girl began to feed her little friend, and Adamiir shuddered once with excitement, gripping at his pendant momentarily. He approached her carefully, being certain that he didn't accidentally mimic any motions typically associated with any of the magpie's known predators. "Greetings, Bosmer, friend of birds-" He paused, and his eyes found purchase looking into her's, molten yellow globes in stark comparison to his muted grey. "I…" Adamiir's voice trailed off again as he studied the multitude of scars marring her otherwise pretty face. Finding his voice once more, Adamiir began to speak. "You have seen battle. That is a good thing. It seems unlikely that the… uninitiated will see tomorrow without the help of those with experience. Or… you have not seen battle. And you were the victim of a horrendous attack in years past. In that case, you have my condolences, as your chances of survival just dropped significantly."

Adamiir peered at her, waiting to see if she felt as optimistic about this encounter as he did. "However," He began, taking in a breath. "If the latter is the case, I will do my utmost to see to it that both you and your feathered ally escape this city unharmed." He smiled at her, as though she were an old friend coming to visit for the first time in months, showing off near immaculate teeth. "You will be pleased to know that this raises your chances of survival by a small margin!"

[User]
Bardeck the Warrior leaned against the chapel wall, taking a swig of his water jug and wetting his parched throat. His weapons were leaning against the wall in a similar fashion to he. Gideon the War Dog paced back and forth, his wolfish and muscled form was covered in dense fur, making him seem both approachable, but very powerful. Not unlike Bardeck himself, the young man handsome with warm eyes, contrasting his muscled and rugged form.

He took the lull in the fight to calm himself, taking a drink and enjoying the moment. He'd been through some rough shit before, but by the Nine Divines he had never seen something like this. At the mere thought of what they faced, he quickly put his water jug back to his belt, and hefted his Axe. With his free hand, he ran his fingers over the marks upon his iron armor. The breastplate was still strong, but that Daedra might have even broken through the Iron if Bardeck had not seen the blow from that hellish mace coming.

It didn't matter. What happened, happened. He shook his head to gather back his sense, his shaggy, unkempt hair swaying back and forth. He would face whatever came through that door, once they broke in. And break in they would...

With that, he stepped forward toward the front of the chapel. A silent prayer left his lips in a whisper as he passed the altar, Gideon padding beside him and gazing to and fro warily. He shook his head at the male Breton deciding that now was the time to flirt. At least the hammer wielding Altmer was ready for the fight.

Somehow, despite the mounting fear and unease, he felt right at home here. He'd always figured he would die in battle. The very gates of Oblivion had opened before them, and he had been there to fight the first wave of demon spawn. As it should be. Even as he hacked them down, he felt the corruption and decay of their warped souls twist before his eyes. His one regret was that Gideon had to be here too, though he knew the War Dog would not be anywhere else. He smiled to his animal companion, and the Dog gave a panting smile in return.


[System]
Rank: Imortale Prelitor Savantus

A quick concept sketch I drew;

Stats: Each stat has a value of 0 by default, you get 35 points to use on stats as you see fit. Weapons and Psy powers have certain requirements, and Stats will also affect the way character behave. Each stat effects several skills, for every one stat point, the skills related to that stat go up by five points by default.

Strength: 1 Melee, Heavy Weapons

Endurance: 3 Melee, Survival

Agility: 5 - Melee, Acrobatics, Stealth

Psy Power: 7 - Arcane Knowledge

Charisma: 0 - Leadership

Perception: 10 - Ranged, Heavy, Technology

Intelligence: 9- Leadership, Survival, Technology, Arcane Knowledge
Skills: You will need skills to use weapons and abilities, or to allow for some actions. All skills start at baseline 0 and you get 100 points to use as you see fit.

Melee: 0 + 25 + 15 + 5 = 45

Ranged Weapons: 0 + 45 = 45

Heavy Weapons: 0 + 45 + 5 = 50

Leadership: 0 + 40 = 40

Acrobatics: 0 + 25 = 25

Survival: 20 + 40 + 15 = 75

Technology: 30 + 40 + 45 = 115

Arcane Knowledge: 50 + 35 + 40 = 125

Stealth: 0 + 25 = 25

 Recognized for her incredible gift for the psionic, and the innate dangerous nature she exhibits, Vienna has received special training separate from other Imortale Prelitors. Being imparted with advanced lessons from elder Savantus (just a placeholder name, since I don't know a better term for elite psychics) in decades-long training has effectively honed her focus with her powerful psionic abilities. This has made her a powerful psychic, but a comparably weak martial fighter. As such, she is issued no combat arms, due to the weaknesses imposed by her special equipment, and has been tailored into a fully psychic/support role, mastering more psy-powers than usual in order to manipulate the battlefield from a safer distance. Notably, she has a strong link to machines, believing that some of them have developed 'Souls'.

Equipment:
 -none.

Special Equipment:
 - Psy Focus; Blank Stare
Due to her intense psionic powers, Vienna is a living conduit for such energies, considered a prodigy of sorts. Though her gift over these powers is equally a curse, often amplifying them to lethal degrees. Ever since a terrible accident in her past, she has been forced to wear this inhibitor, which covers the upper portion of her head and both eyes, in order to calm her mind to properly focus and direct her violent powers. If this artifact ever leaves physical contact with her, she will undergo a state of shock and unleash uncontrollable arcs of violent psionic energy and draw in all sources that utilize such power. This is dangerous for herself and anyone around her. Prolonged periods will cause her to literally rip herself from existence.

 - Makes her invisible to most psionic scanners.
 - Uninvited attempts by others to control or peer into her mind is made much more difficult. And even if successful, intruders will be met with violent and horrific hallucinations. Only the most resolute of mind, or already maddened, can tolerate this experience.
 - Blocks all manner of natural eyesight, but grants her a unique ability known as 'Sightlessness'.

Psy Powers:
 - 'Healing Factor/Regeneration'
 - 'Machine Manipulation'
 - 'Telekinesis'
 - 'Telepathy'
 - 'Teleportation'
 - 'Lightning'
 - 'Sightlessness'; Unable to use her eyes, Vienna uses her focus to amplify faint pulses of psionic energy that allow her to see shapes and figures in a wide range around her. The further away an object is, the more blurry and undefined they appear to her.

Personality:

 Vienna is a kind soul, never wishing to hurt others. Not even now. Her father was never there in her life, so the little girl was raised only by a single parent. Her beloved mother. All she wishes is to please and protect her only parent, whom gave her everything when they had less than nothing. But her simple wishes were never meant to be. When she was discovered at a young age to possess abilities that distinguished her among even elder psychics, she was taken away from the ruins of her home and made into a tool to serve the Immortal Emperor. Fitted with inhibitors to cant her festering powers, until she is strong enough to act without them, she has been made to practice her abilities for decades. Under the silent watch of the Librarians of the Grand Archives, she has been made a powerful psychic and machine-whisperer, forgoing most other skills in order to make her excel in these fields. She hasn't set foot outside the sacred temples in what seems to be a lifetime, completely naive, innocent, and curious as ever to the new experience. (Again, just placeholder names)

 Due to her isolation from others, she has very underdeveloped social skills and can be very passive when it comes to her own thoughts. She can be awkward at times or unable to read the mood.

...

[User]
Vienna had never been graced to be allowed into these venerated halls before, taking in her new environment as each wall and crevice molded in the darkness of her mind. She had been watching others sent when they were given the call, even those she felt less capable than herself. 'You are not ready', they would say, and she would return to training for another year. But today was special and different from the others. It was she was sent to the inner sanctums this time, to commune with the Immortal Emperor. Maybe now they saw something worthy of her. She felt very proud indeed.

 When she finally reached her destination, Vienna kept her head low as she tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone, on the off-chance she would offend a superior rank or someone of nobility. Such strict laws and traditions, but she understood them. Just as they branded her with special rules, it is for the betterment of their people. Although not that such a thing would be possible in the first place. Her engraved silvered-mask covered most of her face and her eyes. It was more she was trying to keep a low profile, issuing greetings only when necessary.

 "Ah... my sincerest greetings too, elder brother." she breathed to one of the men in the grand amber-lit halls leading to the Throne Room that reached out to her.

 Each word was soft, like a murmur, as though it was hard for her to speak. He didn't look like someone from her own unit, so she wasn't really interested in what he had to say. It was a dry sort of truth, but if she was going to strain herself to socialize, she only wanted to do so when absolutely needed. They would probably never see each other again anyways. Biding time for a chance to depart with a few modest nods to his exchanges across the ruthless ticking minutes, she found an opportunity when an acquaintance of his appeared. By the two clasped in a handshake she was already gone.

 Truthfully, she was just never good with words, let alone eloquently disarming a social dilemma if it occurred. There was no doubt she might say something callous without even realizing it and offend someone, or say nothing and offend someone. Judging how she didn't know how go about such things, the windows for failure were quite vast. Best she avoided it all. She had few rights as it was and she preferred to not spoil them, especially now. She soon found a place alone by one of the intricately carved pillars, leaning back against it with a sigh. Her resting spot was a safe distance away from the others, as she was afraid her very presence might send an uncomfortable chill down their spines. As her powers were quite untamed around other sources, even with the inhibitors placed. And her emotions were flaring. She felt overwhelmed by the new environment, happiness, fear, anxiety, excitement; all of it smothered her. Vienna only hoped she can make a good impression now that it mattered.

...

[Assistant]
Rose walks towards Zepheus, and bows to him, her jet black hair cut short , and her scabbard, empty, aswell as her back holster for her battle rifle, the side holster for her shield also empty, as, despite its defensive nature, the shield is still classified as a weapon
'It will be a pleasure to work beneath you, Sir.'
 her voice is softer than expected, barely louder than a whisper, and it is obvious she primarily uses her telepathy for communication, not her voice. She bows again, and returns to the rest of her squad, nodding at Enoch in passing.

She notices Vienna, and walks over to her.
'Hello there. You seem uneasy, is there anything I can do to help?'

[User]
Enoch returns the brisk nod toward the passing Rose; the electrical servos nestled within his armour plate grind and squeal as he elevates himself back to a standing position. His imposing 9ft frame is yet more dramatic with the application of the incredibly thick and heavy Power Armour he has adopted for this meeting.

The sheer bulk of it rises him to at least another foot off the ground, and nearly twice as wide as any other Prelitor in the room.

"Auxilia Optima: you remember correctly."

Enoch makes no effort to even glance at anyone else. They are not deserving of neither his words nor his look, until the Prelitor can deem them worthy of his respect.

[Assistant]
Zepheus keeps his eye on the solemn woman with the covering over her eyes. A Savantus of great power and greater potential... But would she have what it takes to be a part of this team? That had yet to be seen. In all his long years of service, eight centuries of life, he had seen countless warriors and sages like the ones around him. They had been young, strong, and full of youth just as these men and women are. And they were all dead. Broken by conflicts past, the mighty armies of religious zealots, the nawing hunger of the Great Swarm, the mindless violence of the Walking War. He was one of the oldest Imortale Prelitor left alive, many the elders had been slain, so to many of the younger warriors, barely baptized in their first war.

He would now lead a new generation of warriors, sages, maniacs, and kind souls to war, and all of its horrors. He turned to the Furia that had introduced herself, and was now speaking to the Savantus. He had seen recordings of her training, and was impressed. She would make a fine warrior if she survived long enough. He looked now at the Auxillia Optima before him. A heavy weapons expert and defensive/offensive fighter that could suit many a situation. He stood, waiting for the others to reveal themselves.

[User] Without anyone else who appears to require him, Enoch chooses to stand parallel to Zepheus, on his right flank, and glares behind harsh yellow lenses at the other Prelitors who litter the room. Various mumblings sound from within his helmet; the tips of the fingers across his left hand tap rhythmically against his chestplate, dancing beneath his folded arms.

[Assistant]
Senera approaches and bows in front of Zepheus, the leader of this operation.
Then he walks away to a silent corner and sits down, and used his shield which is now strapped on his back as support as he reclines on the wall behind him.
A few take notice and make a few snarky comments, but Senera's reclining comfortably, while they're still standing.

Too much noise. He thinks to himself. He would love to get some shut eye but, he has no idea what's going to happen next so he just stays there, daydreaming about some situations that he read in his novels.

[User]
Lillian looks at Zepheus, as if measuring him herself, for a short moment - about the time it takes to blink two times,
then she bows forward with a straight back, lowering her gaze to the floor.
Some seconds later, she looks up without a single word and into face behind the helmet, awaiting his words.

[Assistant]
Zepheus looks back at the Savantus, the glare of his eyeless helm lending to an aura of unnatural uneasiness.

"Savantus, state your name."

he commanded in a cool, but firm tone

[User]
Vienna winced upon hearing the words, shoulders pushing up tensely. Her head darted back and forth as her mind scrambled to refocus, the shape of the figure registering in the darkness. She really was too absorbed within her own worries she didn't even notice this new arrival. She turned to face the approaching woman with a half-smile, embarrassed by her own skittishness.

 "Ah... my, don't worry about me... I am just thinking..." she paused.

 'Wait. What kind of answer was that, Vienna? Hurry, you still have time to explain yourself! Choose words. She's going to think you've a mental disorder, or worse...!'

 But try as she might, all that came of her mouth were befuddled 'umms' and 'ahhs'.

 Her grin quickly faltered as she started panicking at the inability to find any real words. It was like the thoughts in her mind were just flushed down a drain, leaving her with complete blanks. Seconds felt like minutes as she struggled internally, mouth pinched as she squirmed in her boots. Vienna wanted to just back away into a dark corner and just die of embarrassment. But she couldn't just let the kind gesture go to waste, especially when they first initiated the interaction. This was the first time someone approached her on their own. Usually it was the opposite. No one wanted to even step anywhere near the ticking psionic bomb. She probably didn't even know about her dangerous reputation, so that's why. But still, to her, it was the thought was what mattered the most. Despite being strangers, they went out of her way to offer help to her, without even being asked. It might seem trivial to anyone who was even marginally socially adequate, but to Vienna, this woman appeared truly noble.

 Wait. A stranger! That's right, before every conversation was an exchange of names.

 She immediately bowed her head, hoping she could hide the darkness settling in her cheeks, "A-ah... where are my manners? I-I am Vienna Marx Sorielus... it is a pleasure to have you acquaintance, dear sister-in-arms..."

 Vienna remained this way, both awaiting a response while trying her best to keep her heart still. Blood was rushing into her face, the added heat making it feel like she was being cooked alive. She could faint from this unbearable stress at any moment. Her hands were shaking, she could feel them. What would her instructors think if they saw her now? She didn't want to disappoint them after all they did for her, not after the promise she made to herself and all the others. She had finally been given a chance to prove herself. She cursed herself. How would she even handle such an important duty as being an Imortale Prelitor if she couldn't handle something as simple as this? She didn't dare allow her mind to imagine the response this person would have to her odd mannerisms.

...


[System]
herp derp, reserving

Roumenji Sendo

Age:
~900 years old

Gender: Male

Height: 6'5

Weight: 200LBS

Hair Colour: Black

Eye Colour: Brown

Birthday:
March 15

Clan/Family:
Sendo Clan
A clan founded by the first Head Captain, Madara Sendo. The clan has risen to be a Noble Clan under the leadership of the first Head Captain and has continued to rise in power under Roumenji's rule.

Race:
Soul

Squad&Rank:
Head Captain of the Gotei 13 and Captain of Squad 1

Spiritual Energy Colour: Swirling mixture of green, purple and black

Personality:
Roumenji is a hard-headed man who believes that his actions will result in a just cause. He is never one to back down on his word and holds honor above all else. He is surprisingly brash for being the Head Captain and is quick to take action. However, he will always listen and honor the opinion of the other captains and will never disregard it, even if he disagrees with it. He is a very indiscriminate man and heavily punishes those who do discriminate.

History:
Classified.

Relationships/Friendships/Rivalries/Siblings:
- Norota Sendo - His son who he takes pride in for his abilities. He believes his son will be the next Head Captain after himself.

- Madara Sendo - His father and the first true Head Captain of the Gotei 13. Not much is known about Madara or his relationship with any of his families.

Other:
- Challenges any shinigami to scratch his headband.

~Zanpakuto~

Zanpakuto name: Mashu

Type: Unknown

Zanpakuto Shikai Release command: Revel in your grave,

Spirit Appearance(Optional):

Inner world:
(This gives everyone else an idea of your inner world)

Sealed appearance: Either Katana or other traditional Japanese sword but can sometimes be something different...

Shikai appearance:
Roumenji's zanpakuto appearance remains the same after his shikai has been activated. The only difference is that a violent aura surrounds both his body and zanpakuto. The aura covers his body like a cloak, leaving a thin green lining around him with a darker purple hue coated with a black outer lining. Roumenji is able to focus and control this aura without using any shikai skills.

Bankai appearance:
(Captains and select Lieutenants only)

Shikai special ability:
Roumenji is capable of summoning various types of familiars that contain no details, only a black outline of the creature filled with a void black. He is capable of summoning these beings in massive quantities or able to create massive sized creatures from thought alone.

Shikai skills:
(NOTE: Seated Shinigami have up to 5 skills, Lieutenants and above can have all skills unlocked. Skills must also have cooldowns to prevent spamming)
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.

Bankai skills: (Captains and up can only have Bankai. Note: Some Lieutenants will be able to attain a Bankai)
1.
2.
3.
4.
5. (Ultimate Skill)

Non-lethal Zanpakuto Skills:

(Skills that do not cause harm to an opponent)

Skills&Masteries
(Note: Remember that a GM can help you with the skills as it'll likely be faster and easier)

Zanjutsu

Kido

Bakudo

Hado

Hakuda

Hoho

NPCS
Appearance:

Age:
~1000 years old

Gender:
Male

Height: 5'6

Weight: 130 lbs

Hair Colour:
White

Eye Colour:
White

Birthday:
June 8th

Clan/Family:
Hozuki Clan - A prominent and well-known Noble House who has contributed to the growth of the Soul Society.

Race:
Soul

Rank:
Former Squad 10 Captain; Currently 1 of 6 judges in the Central 46

Spiritual Energy Colour:
Light blue

Personality: (Would like to be done but can be done later)

History: (Would like to be done but can be done later)

Relationships/Friendships/Rivalries/Siblings:
(Any relationships your character has with another and also friendships, rivalries and such. It's something as simple as: "Joe Blogs - Friend" or "Joe Blogs - Good Friend" Things like that. you may add detail if you wish)

Other:
(Can include unique clothing items, side jobs, unique traits and such)

~Zanpakuto~

Zanpakuto name: Shinokuni

Type: Earth

Zanpakuto Shikai Release command: These walls shall be your grave, Shinokuni

Spirit Appearance(Optional):

Inner world:
A rocky terrain filled with canyons and plateaus.

Sealed appearance:
A plain, traditional katana sporting a dark brown sheath with jewels placed into it. Rest is in appearance.

Shikai appearance:

Bankai appearance:
(Captains and select Lieutenants only)

Shikai special ability:
Lord under the Heavens : This ability grants Daisuke control of the earth around him, including the small pebble beside your foot, to the trees that surround you or a mountain laying off in the horizon. His control over the earth is masterful, having centuries of experience with his Zanpakuto.

Shikai skills:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5. Suicide Forest - From the ground below, black, thorn littered branches raise from the ground and continue to grow
6.

Bankai skills: Shinokuni
1.
2.
3.
4.
5. (Ultimate Skill)

Non-lethal Zanpakuto Skills:

(Skills that do not cause harm to an opponent)

Skills & Masteries
(Note: Remember that a GM can help you with the skills as it'll likely be faster and easier)

Zanjutsu Master

Kido Expert

Hakuda Expert

Hoho Master

[User]
@KabenSaal

"Ahahaha, well said. Perhaps thats what I'll name this blend. Taizen Arashi, the calm storm. Per usual, you give me the best names for my blends. I've been waiting to taste your next concoction as well, whenever you feel like making it that is.." He chuckled. His fellow captain, while dutiful, have been known to be rather lax on the matter of producing quality alcohol. Kenshin, on the other hand, routinely produces some of the finest wine known to man, according to himself that is.

"Well, Beowulf will have to wait. As you know, Hiryu reads him his bedtime story, not me. Right now, Hiryu is busy being a little girl and not paying attention to me. So Beowulf will have to wait." He said to his lieutenant. Usually, when she requests that there to be a bedtime story read to her zanpakuto, she is asking for a spar. Right now, Kenshin is not feeling up to it. He can, but he just doesn't want to. "Oh? So the training is all finished? Hm. It would seem I made it too easy... Is my mead ready? I want to have a taste while cooking up the next training menu. I think I'll add a 100km run to it. If you guys were able to finish the daily training regiment in the time it took me to have this meeting, it was too short....Hmmmm....." He pondered. The menu for the day consisted of 1000 practice swings for both right side and left side attacks of the sword, 1000 sword thrusts, 2000 push ups, 2000 crunches, a 25 minute shadow-spar session, 100 quick-draw practices, 2500 body weight squats, a 50km run, along with a standard warmup and cool down session. If his squad can finish the training in a few hours, either they were bullshitting during the training or it was too simple. Now, with the soul butterflies he had placed in the training grounds, he thinks it was the latter of the two situations. "In any case, I think I'll be heading back to the 11th, Eel-san, feel free to drop by whenever." He said to his fellow captain with a smile and ended with a half bow. Walking towards his barracks, he said to his lieutenant "Come along Mirja, lets go. Oh the meeting? I mean, the old man just told us that the hollow numbers were increasing and that there were incidents in the rukongai. He is sending a few people out to investigate. We're not a part of that group so we're not leaving, you hear me? " He said in a nonchalant tone. However, he expected his lieutenant to take what he said as an order, in the fact that he was not tasked with anything involving the current situation at, so his squad is to stand down for the time being.

[Assistant]
Kyogen Akechi, 7th division Lieutenant.

Kyogen continued on his way towards the meeting place of the captains. To be honest, he was a bit excited, maybe this mission would have something that could hurt him.

Kyogen wasn't battle crazy, he was a just plain crazy. He wanted to be overwhelmed in a fight, but he feared dying. It was a weird cycle.

It was then another hell butterfly landed on his finger. Kyogen listened to the message, before he smashed the butterfly in his palm. A wing fell out of his fist.

"They think they are pulling me off that easily? Oh no. I will do my mission, I am a loyal soul reaper, and will always get the job done. A little dangers only extra to me."

With that, he hurried his pace. His 'excuse' was he never got the hell butterly.

Appearing in the hall, Kyogen bowed, though as always, half mockingly. If he was lucky, he'd piss off the captain commander.

"Lieutenant Akechi, reporting for duty, I just recieved orders I am to assist on a mission to the Rukongai again? Let's go on and do it then. I have no intentions of growing old."

Looking around, he commented.

"Seems I've missed my captain again."

[User]
Yuka Mogami

"Lets." Yuka replied, before the two of them began on their way to the Kido corps. She was intrigued to hear that this lieutenant was apparently rivals with Majime, her former subordinate and friend. She could not remember if Majime had mentioned him before or not. In any case, she wondered if Majime would be there when they arrived. She wondered if this rivalry of his was strong enough to elicit an amusing reaction. Perhaps he would even be the one sending them all off? But then again, she couldn't imagine they would get Majime to perform such a simple task like opening the Senkaimon. She would have to see whether he would be there or not.

It did not take all too long for them to arrive at the Kido corps headquarters. Once there, Yuka spied someone standing outside the building, loitering around. She decided to take a chance and guess this was the man they were looking for. "Hey, are you lieutenant Osaka?" She began, approaching him. "Ready to get to work?" When she thought about it, they had been given little information about what they were doing. The orders were "go to the Forest of Menos and meet the recon team", and that was it. Hopefully the lieutenant didn't expect any explanations from her or Kounura.

[Assistant]
翔 太 林

Division Three Lieutenant

S H O T A H A Y A S H I

---

"You're back already?" the young lieutenant asked the question of his superior from atop one of the many tiled roofs within the Seireitei. He had seemingly sprouted from nowhere and with his head tilted to one side he immediately began to question his Captain.
"Did he say much? The Captain commander I mean. Do you have a mission?" jumping down from his perch he found himself stood inches from captain Yukimura. It was rather strange for Shota to have someone even smaller than he, albeit by only an inch. It was especially strange considering she outranked him, Shota naturally assumed the stronger people are the bigger they are. Yet here he was, a young prodigy faced with a captain that if stacked upon each other would not even reach some of the taller Shinigami he had seen.

Shota took a quick glance around Kuromi, inspecting her hands and outfit to make sure nothing was hidden, maybe a written order? Shota knew, in some deep recess of his mind that many might call sense, that standing so close to his captain for long wouldn't be a very good idea. As per usual however these kinds of thoughts didn't even cross Shota's mind and in fact his only action in response to the few seconds of silence, born from his yet unanswered question, was to push his face closer. Eye to eye he waited for his answer, or more likely his black eye.

[User]
Roumenji Sendo
Roumenji was about to head off before a Lieutenant appeared before him, half assing his bow and speaking without any type of permission given. He had sent Airi and her squad on a mission they wouldn't likely make it back from, should he do the same to this person? "My, respect seems to have gone out the window with this generation. Lieutenant, you were to report to the South Rim, not to me. I suggest you head out there immediately or risk losing all the fun" Roumenji turned around, walking towards the hallway which Akechi came from and briefly stopping to speak "And another act up like that and it'll cost you your hand. Respect the Captains, Lieutenant." He resumed his walk, his footsteps slowly fading the further he walked down the dark hallway with no clear end. At the same time, a Hellbutterfly had already been sent to Lieutenant Mirja to replace Captain Mao.


[System]
Robert 'Rob' Guilloux

Nicknames: Rob, Frenchie, Tech

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Social Status: EU Knightmare Specialist/Engineer

Appearance: Standing at 5'10 and weighing 160lbs, Robert is above average physically and, if his bear hugs and attitude are anything to go by, is unaware of this. He has dark black hair and light grey eyes, an unknown fact do to the thick eyeglasses he wears almost constantly. Rob typically wears an oversized lab coat, white t-shirt and brown khakis, both in public and in private. While he owns a jumpsuit for use in Knightmare, he rarely wears it do to his lack of Knightmare piloting experience. Said jumpsuit is light grey with black highlights. Rob carries a notebook and pen constantly, taking notes and doodling whenever he has the chance, treating it as both a research journal and a diary. He rarely shaves, leaving a constant stubble etched across his features.

Personality: Those who do not know him personally would describe him as an eccentric, dramatic, and annoying annoying brat. He typically brags about his intellect and will use big words, even if he has no idea what they mean. Those who know him on a deeper level, however, are aware that he is a complete mess, doing his best to avoid people's criticism and seeking the approval of anyone who gives him the time of day. Rob places immense value on his intellect, what he believes to be his only positive quality. He originally did not care about the Britannian Empire, developing his anger towards them upon seeing how non-Britannians were treated. The main reason he decided to join the military was to protect his younger brother, Jean, from discrimination.

 Rob, despite acting like a big-shot, does not enjoy direct confrontation, preferring underhanded and cheap tactics. He obsesses over Knightmares, and is intimidated when there is a more advanced unit facing him. Rob does not enjoy taking risks, and will urge others to take the 'safe-bet'. He spends hours every day either working out, or studying Knightmares, believing that an advanced enough unit would be able to protect him from the enemy. Rob believes that all people are at least somewhat evil and will attempt to protect and enrich their lives by any means necessary. He is much more laid back then most and, when his trust has been secured, is a very reliable source of wisdom and advice, cultivated by his time raising his brother alone.

 Rob believes that his life is less important to others, due to the fact that he has considered suicide before. If it means that he is able to protect a friend or ally, he will use anything he has at his disposal. Rob has seen the effect that the Black Rebellion had on Britannia, which made him begin to appreciate tactics and strategy. He does not believe in the supernatural, instead believing that technology is the strongest force on earth.

Born in Amiens, France, Robert 'Rob' Guilloux was born to a middle class family. Considering the fact that his mother was thought to be infertile, Rob was showered by love from his parents. Despite his families status, he lived in a poorer part of the city, where he was bullied incessantly. This slowly developed into a crippling self loathing that persist to this day. His father, an alcoholic, spent much of his income on cheap booze. This led to angry outbursts throughout the house, further fueling Rob's fear of interaction. As the outside forces of his life continued to harass him, Rob began to lock himself in, hiding from the threat of people. This lifestyle continued throughout his childhood, and eventually led to his almost obsessive attitude towards research. It was a cold day in March when his mother once again had a miracle child.

 A small boy, barely 5 pounds, was brought back to the Guilloux home that day. Rob originally intended to ignore and abandon the child, just as he did the world, when things began to change. His father got his act straight and went sober. His mother, who had been having an affair at the time, changed her ways and remained loyal. Even the bullying, which had been a constant throughout Roberts life, had died down slightly, or at least it felt like it did. This led to the only supernatural belief that Robert has ever held: This child was a blessing from god.

 Robert spent every second he could around Jean, nursing him with formula, changing his diapers, and even sleeping next to him. He idolized the infant and did his best to help Jean grow. As the child grew, so did Robert's adoration, which was eventually returned in the form of love from Jean. By the time Jean had turned 5, the brothers were inseparable. This was also the time that the Invasion of Japan had begun.

 Robert, like all people throughout the world, knew of Britannia. It was the largest empire in the world, and was also the technological powerhouse. The Invasion of Japan, however, opened Robert's eyes to the horrors and power that Britannia held. The Glasgow was the first Knightmare Frame that Robert had ever seen, and it was the machine that infatuated Robert with the weapon. A towering machine of steel and power, capable of easily destroying conventional weapons. Robert spent hundreds of hours looking trough every available source, analyzing everything he could about the Knightmare frames. It wasn't until the newly named Area 11 was captured that Rob discovered the horrible treatment of the Elevens.

 Britannia was one of the most brutal empires in the entire world, and placed a large importance on bloodline. Those that were not Britannian were treated as scum to the nobility and commoners of Britannia. Rob knew that the EU was one of the only Countries that could stand up to Britannia and stand a chance, so, in order to protect Jean, he decided to join the military. He spent the next two years exercising and studying, all in the hopes of keeping the Britannian presence out of the EU. At the age of 16, he left his for Paris, the capital of the EU, in hopes of being accepted to a prestigious military academy. Thanks to his hard work and countless sleepless nights spent studying, he managed to enter the academy as a Knightmare specialist. After another two years of hard work, he graduated the academy with numerous scholarships awaiting him. He denied all of them, and quickly joined into the military as a Knightmare Frame Specialist. In the next four years, he could count the number of times he was in combat on a single hand.

 During his four years in the military, he garnered much respect due to his research, and was selected to join a team assembled to wrest Britannian control over Area 11, the W-1 Task Force. He was to be sent as a member of an elite team, which had the potential to change the entire world.

 No pressure.

Relationship W/ Other Characters:
Jean Guilloux: His 12 year old brother. Rob would sacrifice anything if it meant that Jean would be safe.

(Relationship with other PCs to be added).

Goals:
- The removal of Britannian forces from the EU.
- Protecting his brother, by any means necessary.
- To create the next generation of Knightmares.
- Acceptance and to be depended upon by others.

Skill Set:
- Training with small firearms
- Basic Knightmare piloting skills
- Skilled Knightmare Researcher and Mechanic

---

Knightmare Frame: RPI-13 Sutherland (Modified)
Desription: A functional Sutherland captured from the Knights of Raphael, this specific one was given to Rob as his personal defense Knightmare. The Sutherland is much sleeker in comparison to the Glasgow, and has numerous upgrades to the life support system and cockpit. This Sutherland is silver with light purple trims, and has the Factsphere Sensor located on the head, like all Sutherlands. It is a good mix of mobility, durability, and power, and is the main weapon in the Britannian empire, serving as infantry.

Weapons and Operational Systems of Knightmare:
- Cockpit Ejection System
- Factsphere Sensor
- Landspinner Propulsion System

Armaments:
- 1x Assault Rifle
- 2x Chest-mounted Slash Harkens
- 2x Chaos Mines

Knightmare Generation: 5th Generation Britannian Knightmare Frame

---

Likes:
- Working out
- Repairing Knightmares
- Building Knightmares
- Jean Guilloux
- Friendship
- Lab coats
- Praise
- Technology

Dislikes:
- The supernatural
- Insults
- Wastefulness
- Anger
- Bossy People

[User] "As stated you, and your team will be assisting W-1's Jack Blake. I am assigning you to destroying the enemy defense network that's left. It's as simple as that. Your voice, and that look in your eyes tells me that you're worried. These are all the variables that are on the table at this current moment. If there's any changes it is out of our hands before the attack. Besides their current focus is getting those knightmares to fight Kozuki's team in the central japan region. Do you want fellow Black Knights to die because you failed to try and defend them? The pressure is on the four of you in team one to stop that from happening. Black Knights are falling by the day out there. The Black Rebellion is only as dead as you allow it to be." Sho commented bluntly and to the point as he looked directly at Fenrir. "As for your knightmare frame I'm not sure if you've forgotten but I've disabled it for the moment and replaced it with a Burai's. I am saving all Britannian signals for a mission of vital importance later. The less they think we have the more advantage we accumulate."

[Assistant]
Sets His jaw and stiffens slightly as he grits his teeth and stares at the General with distaste and cold anger at the mention of letting his fellow Knights die because he failed. "I will never allow comrades to die in cold blood General, nor would I waste valuable resources in vital raid. However General, only three people in this world are allowed to touch let alone pilot my Fenris and that's him,.." He hooks his thumb over his shoulder at Robert, "Her,..." takes a moment to point at Maria, "and myself."

His attention turns to Jake "Jake Blake, a Four and probably the most qualified squad leader in this room." He nods slightly showing his respect towards the Irishman "It will be an honor to serve under someone with your skill and legacy Mr. Blake." He smiles ever so slightly "And from one Irishman to another I look forward to a long friendship."

[User]
Shiomi listened intently to General Sho as he explained the operation. The operations success would depend on stealth for the first phase, then speed for the second phase. While Harding Carry was technically a secondary objective, Shiomi made special note to accomplish all secondary objectives as well, unless it proved impossible, every commanding officer taken down as a chip taken out of the Britanian command structure. She would do everything in her power to assassinate the swine when the time came.

The large European had questions about the operation, and though General Sho addressed his concerns, Fenrir seemed a bit off put. It was rather obvious that the man felt a lot more comfortable around fellow Europeans than the native Japanese.

"Being able to deceive the enemy is an integral part of warfare, we cannot show our hand before we have a chance to strike a decisive blow against our foes." Shiomi commented to add onto what general Sho said about Britanian signals being saved for later. "I will do everything in my power to assist team one in their mission, no matter what obstacles appear I will insure the mission's success, general."

The new hacking tool would no doubt prove useful, also since it was a coastal operation, Shiomi had the option of using the sea to sneak in with some scuba gear. As long as they did not give themselves away early, they had a good chance to pull off the mission.

[Assistant]
Robert listened to the plan that Sho had laid out, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Why the hell was he going behind enemy lines? Do they want him to die? Compared to everyone else in the room, Robert was by far the worst when it came to piloting a Knightmare frame. Just because he knew how they worked, didn't men he was good at using them. And as the plan Sho relayed to the group continued, Robert's thoughts began to drift even more so towards the risk: surely, General Sho had some back-up plan in case group one failed, right? That thought was quickly rectified when it was revealed that it was a stealth mission: something that Robert was absolutely untrained for. But there was no going back now. After all, he was french, and looked like a Britannian. That did not help him with the thought that he would be paired up with Marcia. Then again, how in the world would anyone be mentally prepared to trust someone whom they just met - And knew that they killed dozens, if not hundreds of people, and tortured a lot of them. No, Robert thought to himself. Think positively. Sure, you have a war criminal on your team, but you also got that guy Garcia; he's pretty chill.

Thankfully, Robert was not the one to voice his concerns with General Sho's plan. The one man who arrived late, Fenrir, voiced his concerns with the mission. Unfortunately, however, his concerns were waved off. Sure, the lives of the black knights were valuable, but throwing W-1 lives away with a plan like that wasn't going to solve anything. The lead of the pencil he was writing in his journal with snapped, and he slowly shut his book.

Robert sighed.

"If that is your order, than I shall obey you, General Sho. If you would be kind enough, may you tell us when you plan to begin this mission? Also, what will our disguise be? Do you have Britannian soldier uniforms?"

The gruff voice of Fenrir rung out again, in retaliation to the tampering of his Knightmare.

To this, Robert became confused. He understood the fact that a specialized Knightmare could be named, as it was one of a kind, but he couldn't wrap his head around naming something like a Sutherland. They far outclassed the Glasgow, sure, but they were still infantry units. Their is no need to name something that was likely going to be destroyed anyways. The other thing that startled Robert, was the fact that Fenrir pointed towards him when referring to people who were allowed to touch his Knightmare. This confused him only briefly, however, as he could see how someone would come to the conclusion that he was a researcher. After all, he was the only person wearing a damn lab coat.

He opened his journal, and pulled a pen from his breast pocket. As he did so, he began to trace out his own Sutherland, which he had not seen since arriving here.


[System]
Age: 37

Gender: Male

Bio: Before the complete obliteration of order, society and life as everyone knew it, Quinn was just a contractor going from site to site, just making enough money to make each mortgage repayment and keep his wife and kids fed. Suffice it to say, he no longer needed to worry about his mortgage, and his family would never eat again. After at least a year of aimless wandering, Quinn's humanity had shed to the point where he became a recruit for the Blood Army.
In the years to come, he found himself a perpetrator of atrocity and hatred that left the scars on his body looking pale in comparison to the ones on his soul.

Time came when his fragile mind could no longer be held together by acts of violence and in a fit of tormented rage, he attempted to desert the Blood Army. It was a long night of heated pursuit, but eventually Quinn managed to scrap his way tooth and nail away from them. Not without them leaving a permanent mark on him. A combination of a hunting knife, a vicious dog and a grenade had left him short one eye, an arm torn open and a hideous burn to the left side of his face (though in a morbid twist of fate, the burn he sustained aided the cauterization of his gaping eye wound).
In the following days stumbling through the wastes in a septic daze, he eventually collapsed along the path of a traveling caravan. The goodly folk cared for him and nurtured him as much as they could.
He traveled with them for a time, before deciding that they were better off without the danger he would bring them.

Personality: Quinn is a man who says little, yet never minces his words. He's a very cold, closed-off man. The type of guy who has lost everything twice over, so tries to gain as little as possible.
Clinging to his oldest habits, Quinn is not at all above a bit of honest labour to pay his way. A life of hard work left him with a good physique and has managed to keep him from feeling his age too much.
He has been trying to atone for all the terrible things he did as a member of the Blood Army, and will often help those in need almost unconditionally.

Gear:
-Weapon 1 (optional): A simple colt revolver, chambered with .44 rounds.

-Weapon 2 (optional): A machete, equally useful for utility and combat.

-Clothing: All of Quinn's clothing is quite tattered and bears evidence of numerous repairs. A pair of heavy combat boots, sturdy jeans, a simple tee and a very crude yet heavy duty poncho, a strip of which has been cut off to fashion a face wrapping which covers his missing eye and the burn he sustained to that side of his face.

-Items: A set of basic tools (screwdrivers, wrench, hammer etc.), a pair of spare bootlaces, 17 rounds of .44 ammunition (including what's already chambered), a water skin, simple flashlight and a rucksack.

Role: Quinn is a drifter, who doesn't like to remain tethered to any place for too long. He makes his way from settlement to settlement, offering his skills and services as a contractor to whoever may need repairs or handy work done. Sometimes, an assassination may be requested. Quinn tends to turn these offers down...most of the time.

[User]
Alyssa looked at Jake as she raised an eyebrow at how ready to leave all ready. It didn't surprise her, but it didn't make her feel so great either. She didn't blame him either nor was she surprised, it was just wierd. Ignoring the fact she turned to Celty. "So I'm not the only one who noticed that, I don't know who owns it, but if someone did, they wouldn't just up and leave. " She stated, realizing the words she was about to say she shook her head.

'How did we just notice this now?' She wondered to herself. It seemed like something she should of noticed as the first thing but it wasn't. Her hand shook, she pulled the edge of her sleeves over them before she stated, "Wait, don't move that, everyone out of the house!" She practically shouted out.

[Assistant] Jake quickly turned around hearing Alyssa shout. Out of pure instinct and reflex, he aimed his gun and looked around."What's wrong?" He asked, worry in his voice. Jake had an off feeling too, but the world right now was off too. He slowly walked back toward the group. However, something else bothered him too. Hearing Celty's small epiphany got Jake a bit on edge.

[User]
Charlotte jumped at Alyssa's outburst, she didn't need telling twice as she heard her tone. Wasting no time she snatched up her bag and made her way towards the doorway before hesitating and turning back to see what the others were doing.

"What is going on?" she asked anxiously. She felt tense, ready to bolt at a seconds notice. Her hand went to the hunting knife at her side instinctively.

[Assistant]
Realization struck Quinn like a sucker punch to the nose, or perhaps it was an instinct, or just some freakish unexplainable sixth sense. Whatever it was moved him before he could think about what he was doing. As Celty's hand closed around one of the tins his arm closed around her waist and using the weight of his entire body he wrenched her off her feet. As they fell he pivoted around to cover her with his mass, his arms copping the brunt of the impact as their forms hit the floor with a thud.
A roaring blast filled the air, and he felt intense heat and concussive force slide over his back as the removal of the can triggered an explosion.
One only narrowly avoided.
Quinn coughed and spluttered, his ears ringing and the world around him spun in kaleidoscopic pandemonium.

In a few moments that felt like an eternity, things cleared and his senses returned to him. He managed to rise and offer Celty to her feet.
"Probably a claymore. I'll bet my good eye those cans were fakes."
A second realization hit him even harder than the first.
"We have to move, now! If there any Blood Army nearby that blast will draw them in like sharks. Come on!"

[User]
Jake jumped at the explosion and panicked. He pointed his gun around, trying to find the source. He then realized it came from inside. Jake's police instinct kicked in and he rushed into the house. He then heard Quinn's command, snapping Jake out of rescue mode and sending him into emergency mode. Jake slung his rifle around his back and looked around to see if and Blood Army were around.

A gut-wrenching noise was heard in the distance; a group of Blood Army shouting to go to the house. Jake pointed in the direction. "Guys, I think they're pretty damn close!" He warned motioning Quinn to be ready to protect himself, or the group, if necessary. Jake looked around to make sure the group was there and intact. "Everybody good?" He asked, disoriented from the explosion and full of adrenaline.

[Assistant]
The explosion catching Celty by surprise and Quinn taking the brunt of it shocked her and made her body freeze for a moment. She coughed and took Quinn's hand to stand. Once on her feet she coughed again and dusted herself off a bit. Heart racing she grabbed her bag that had fallen off her shoulder and put it back on. "I'm not allowed to touch things anymore." Celty said half joking and half fearful.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she looked at Quinn then at Jake and rushed to the door. "Let's go. Even if it's not the Blood Army someone could've heard that and could be on their way." Celty stood by the door, rifle in her arms now instead of slung around her shoulder. Almost as instinct when Celty heard the shouting she raised her rifle and pointed it in the direction they heard it come from. "We don't have long. I don't have a visual yet, but will soon. I can pick a couple off when I do, but we better run like hell." her tone got colder and less frightened.

Celty waited for the slightest hint of a figure before preparing herself for the recoil each shot would have. "We have less than five until they get here." she watched them through her scope and judged the time off of their distance. Slowly she put her finger on the trigger and waited till they were in good enough range.

[User]
Alyssa waited a moment after she shouted, eying the area Celty was in. She has seen this before how could she so stupid. She hoped to god that they would listen to her, if not they all would be dead. She paused and waited for a second. If they didn't listen, she would of up and left. They were nice people, for the most part, other than Quin, but she didn't feel any connection to any of them, almost as if she was distant, different. Leaving them behind would make no difference, she already had a bunch of blood on her hands.

A shocker, seeing that Celty and Quin did listen. She shook her head as she huffed," Great." She mumbled, another house destroyed, a place where someone used to live, memories of good and bad. She barely remembered that those days existed. She shook her head and ran out the door. Behind her slamming the door to try and block some of the explosion. "Get down." She shouted, jumping off the steps and went landing, and purposely tumbling over off her feet, her head buried below her elbows, and her hands blocking her head.

She hated this, all of it. She felt the pressure pushing her over. 'One, two, three.' She thought to herself, counting up till ten, before she stood up. If she had any injury's from it, she didn't care. They weren't important, nor did they matter. She could live with it.

Aly turned to Jake," I'm fine." She then turned to Celty. "Five minutes? Huh? Then lets get a move on, ditch the car, its efficient but to much distraction, come on!" She said as she bolted away from the scene and behind a building.

[Assistant]
He felt agonizingly naked without a weapon. It was the way it had to be after his revelation, but at this point it was no more than a giant inconvenience.
If nothing else, he still had Blood Army training, and years of construction work had left him with a reasonable physique. If he got a hold of one, he could always just beat him to death. Or improvise a weapon from any of the detritus laying around.

"If we disperse through the houses it should break their line of sight. It won't get us as far away as a straight line, but we're no good in the open."
It was a strange sensation to be stepping up to the plate like this, it gave him an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. No time to dwell on it now.
"Celty, try and take out the engines if you can, failing that the drivers but don't stick around too long. Nobody needs to be a hero today."

******************

The sound of an explosion reached off into the distance and registered only vaguely on Elias Vex's ears. Vaguely was enough for his keen senses.
He called out to his men, in a mighty booming voice that was like a hundred swinging sledgehammers striking down all at once.
"Move out, assholes! We got a traitor to catch!"
Vex reached into a pocket on his tactical vest and withdrew a slender syringe. He jabbed it into his neck without even a flinch and plunged the blue liquid inside into his bloodstream.
It only took a moment for his pupils to dilate.
The soldiers behind him all did the same, and they rapidly grew more feral. They howled, beat their chests and pounded on whatever their fists met.
Vex and his demons were on their way.

[User]
As the explosion sounded Charlotte threw herself instinctively to the ground and covered her head with her arms. Her ears rang afterwards and she looked up half expecting to see the others dead, but instead she saw that Quinn had managed to rip Celty away from the source of the blast at the last second thanks to Alyssa's warning. She jumped to her feet and watched as the others sprang into action. Everything happened so quickly that before she knew it they were all outside before the dust had even properly settled from the trap, her instincts told her to flee as quickly as she could – only her desire to stay with the others prevented her, as well as of course the fact that on her own her wounded leg would make her a prime target for the Blood Army.

She stood beside Celty as she stared through the scope of her rather impressive rifle, listening as she spoke "We have less than five until they get here", causing Charlotte to frown and bite her tongue as panic shot through her.

It wasn't long, but thankfully the group already had their belongings together. She couldn't help but think how much worse everything would be if someone had triggered the trap in the middle of the night. Quinn quickly barked some instructions "If we disperse through the houses it should break their line of sight. It won't get us as far away as a straight line, but we're no good in the open. Celty, try and take out the engines if you can, failing that the drivers but don't stick around too long. Nobody needs to be a hero today." Charlotte gazed at him and noticed how uneasy he looked as he did. Their eyes met for a moment and Charlotte looked away out of more habit that anything else. Her mouth already was going dry as she tested her weight on her leg once more. It still stung like hell, but at least she'd be able to move quickly enough so that she wouldn't be much of a liability to them.

Her heart continued to pound as she made her way outside and glanced around. The suburbs they were in were fairly large and sprawling, easy to get lost in she knew from experience. She wasn't sure exactly what direction Gainsville was or how far they'd have to go. She shot a glance towards the car they were going to be abandoning and thought about how much easier it would be to drive. But of course Alyssa was right, it'd be far too loud and the BA would have no problem following them with their own vehicles and they'd have more fuel and resources that the group could even dream of.

As she took the first few strides pain again lanced though her leg catching her by surprise. She hadn't expected it still to be quite so fresh and a small cry of pain escaped her lips despite her attempts to remain silent. She paused realising that without someone's help she wouldn't be moving very quickly at all, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything and pushed through the pain. In her mind she was scared that the others would abandon her… after all it would be the logical thing to do and just two days ago it's what she would have done without hesitation.

[Assistant]
Blood rushed through his head like tidal waves, drowning out his every thought as beads of sweat formed on his forehead and rolled into his eyes. He had no idea if he could pull this escape off. With each pulsing, jackhammer beat of his heart he could see a brand new vision of his comrades dead.
You're dead for sure if you don't move your ass!
Quinn steeled himself for the chase that was to come. He went over to Charlotte and roughly pulled her arm over his shoulder, trying to help take the weight off her leg.
"One eye, one leg," he smirked nervously. What a ridiculous time to joke.
There was no more time to deliberate, Quinn began to drag Charlotte along.


[System]
Quote: I don't want people to get hurt, like I have. If I can shield them from that pain, endure it for them, then that's enough.

Age: 17

Gender: female

Race: Faunus, scorpion sub-species

Appearance: Cyra stands at 4 feet, 9 inches. She typically wears very thick clothing with dark colours, hoodies, sweatpants, boots and fingerless gloves. She also conceals the lower half of her face with a bandanna. Has violet eyes and chin length black hair. Visible skin is a very light brown, with sections of greenish-black carapace spread across her torso and limbs.

Weapon Name: Khthon and Lithos

Weapon Type: Transforming, Defensive, Ranged

Weapon Derivation: Arm shields, wall shields, twin-linked heavy machine guns, rail cannons

Holstered/Sheathed Appearance: rectangular arm shields strapped to her forearms.

Form 1: Guardian Mode. Each shield can extend panels from the side and bottom edges, forming a large wall shield that Cyra can use to protect herself.

Form 2: Assault Mode. A pair of tines extend to cover the machine gun barrels and open the central rail cannon. These weapons require a brief charge period but possess an immense amount of firepower, being able to crack even Boarbatusk or Death Stalker armour at point-blank range. The recoil of these weapons means that only Cyra is able to use them, as anyone else would have their arms ripped off.

Form 3: Suppression Mode. The rail cannon tines merge and retract into the barrel, opening up the machine gun barrels. While nowhere near as powerful as the rail cannon, they have a much greater rate of fire and can be modified with different types of Dust ammunition, such as explosive rounds to disrupt enemy movements, and cryogenic rounds to immobilize and disable them. The recoil of these weapons is not as severe as the rail cannons, but they would still ordinarily be found in vehicle mountings and will break the arm or dislocate the shoulder of anyone other than Cyra, if not both. Even so, extended combat can make her arms feel numb.

Form 4: Fortress. Khthon and Lithos can be combined to form a large curved barrier, completely protecting Cyra and anyone behind her from any frontal attack.

Personality: Cyra is as quiet and shy as anyone can get. She buries her body in thick clothing, desperate to hide her Faunus status and going to great lengths to ensure no one else discovers this fact; dressing and undressing while still in bed, bathing only when she is absolutely certain she is alone, avoiding all physical contact. Often the only parts of her body that are actually visible are the upper half of her face and her fingertips. Because of her small stature, reluctance to speak and preference for dark colours, she easily fades into the background and passes unnoticed, until someone decides to pick on her, against which she virtually never defends herself.

In spite of this, Cyra is quite intelligent and studious, having designed and built the complicated mechanisms of Khthon and Lithos herself. She is also very observant and rarely misses things, even if she seldom informs anyone else for fear of bringing attention to herself, which causes her to appear somewhat stupid. When she is with someone she truly trusts, she can seem over-affectionate, craving the physical contact she otherwise deprives herself of. She also loves sour candies, the stronger the better, making her rather easy to bribe.

History: Cyra grew up alone with her mother, her father dying in a Grimm attack before she was born and having no other family to speak of. She also rarely saw her mother, who tended to work long hours at difficult jobs just to be able to support her. School was essentially hell for Cyra; as a young scorpion Faunus she often faced intense bullying, particularly due to the carapace sections on her skin being difficult to hide. Her attempts to do so only changed the reasons for her being bullied.

Her path to becoming a Huntress was one of necessity. While at a playground, Cyra was being repeatedly pushed around by a group of kids, when she finally lost her temper and activated her Semblance. The resulting shockwave not only knocked the other kids off their feet, but also caused serious damage to the playground. Cyra's mother made her swear to only use her power to protect others, encouraging her to be better than those who discriminated against her. After that, her path was set.

Emblem: A stylized V with curved tips (resembling herself holding her shields in front of her in Guardian form when viewed from above), surrounded by two concentric spiked circles.

Colour: Mardi Gras

Combat Style: Cyra is a very patient and defensive person, letting her enemies come to her. She will endure enemy attacks with her shields and Semblance, waiting for the best opening, and then overwhelming them with an immense of firepower. Otherwise, she will engage her opponents at range with her machine guns, maintaining control over the battlefield.

Strengths: Fighting against Cyra is similar to fighting against a small mountain, making her very difficult to overcome. She has unmatched stamina in a fight, her shields and Semblance enabling her to endure almost any attack that comes her way, allowing opponents to exhaust themselves. The immense firepower at her disposal, relative to her small size, can take many people by surprise, and she is quick to exploit any openings or advantages that enemies present to her to their full extent.

Weaknesses: Cyra has difficulty engaging fast opponents who are able to evade her attacks and find openings in her defense. Additionally, her ability to endure attacks is largely dependent upon her maintaining contact with the ground, so upwards attacks that send her into the air make her vulnerable. While largely unafraid of fighting Grimm, she is much more hesitant and timid when fighting human or Faunus opponents, resulting her tending to hide behind her shields than attack.

Semblance: able to "lock-down" her body, becoming immovable from where she stands and transmitting energy either into the ground or absorbing it into herself. This is the primary reason that she is able to wield such heavy caliber weapons, as her Semblance allows her to absorb the recoil. If sufficiently motivated, Cyra can also focus the absorbed energy and her own rage into powerful seismic shockwaves, transforming her into the epicenter of an earthquake.

[User]
Nova Hail- Lecture Hall- Monday Evening

Nova was a bit startled by just how sharp her reaction was against returning to the ballroom was. She could understand not liking crowds since she wasn't all that fond of them herself but she could put up with it when need be where this girl in front of her seemed almost panicked at the very idea. This had something more than just being shy but she had no way to prove that or even what had happened to the girl to be like this. Did the girl really think that she would force her? Sure, going back to the ballroom was the logical idea but that didn't always mean it was the right one.

"I'm not the kind of person to force someone to do anything they don't want to do." Nova replied to the other softly before standing, petting the girls head gently. "If you are really set on staying than I guess I'll just have to join you. I know you might not appreciate my company but if you get caught than at least you won't have to take the heat alone. I can possible help lessen the punishment or detour it a bit and besides, with the way the party is going I'll get a better nights rest away anyway. I'll be back..."

After she spoke those words, she headed for the door and paused for a moment before stepping into the hall to glance back at the girl."My name is Nova by the way. Just though you might like to know. I'll return shortly."  Nova quickly exited out of the room, heading back into the ballroom with not much notice of others and silently started packing up her stuff. Once she was finished, Nova quietly slipped back out of the ballroom and joined the girl back in the lecture hall, setting up her sleeping bag once more.

[Assistant]
Liam Yugure - Beacon ballroom - Monday night
Slamm @rex @ryukan

After downing a few more shots Liam rememberex that he was still at school and tomorrow probably needed a much needed rest. After hr downed his next shot he slammed the glass down.

"Thankyou for the drinks good friend. But im gonna hit the hay and get some rest for tomorrow." he waved goodbye and walked to the bathroom to change into his tracksuit pants. He stared at the scars across his chest and sighed. He walked out, shirtless, and couldn't help but notice a small group of girls stare. He flexed a little and gave a slight chuckle.
This training definitely paid off...
He set up his sleeping arrangements in an darker area where there weren't many people and lied down staring at the ceiling wondering what was to come.

[User]
Cyra Zylvan - Lecture Hall - Monday Night

It wasn't until the girl had slipped into the hallway that breath exploded from Cyra's lungs, and she staggered a little. She had been so nervous about what the girl's response would be, and the relief that she wasn't going to push the subject was palpable. Sure, now Cyra had to deal with her sleeping in the room with her, but that was managable.

By the time the girl returned, Cyra had already changed and was deeply cocooned inside her sleeping bag, hidden behind one of the desks. Not even her head was visible, the edge of the bag pulled low over her face.

She peered out as the girl carried her things to the center of the floor and lay them out in silence. It still bothered her that the girl cared so much. Nova, she said her name was. Cyra blushed again and buried her face in the crook of her arm, then sighed to herself and crawled out.

As she padded over to kneel beside the resting girl, she shivered slightly. This would be the least amount of layers she had ever worn with someone other than her mother. A sweatshirt, sweatpants, and her scarf wrapped around her neck. "It's... it's nice to meet you Nova," she whispered, "I'm Cyra. Thank you."

She ducked her head as the other girl turned to look at her for a moment. "Nice to meet you, Cyra. Good night."

Cyra crept back to her sleeping bag, a pleasant sense of warmth blooming in her chest and colouring her cheeks. As she nestled down, her mind drifted back many years, when her mother would come home late, and Cyra would stay up waiting for her, just so she could sing her to sleep.

Closing her eyes, Cyra hummed that same old tune.


[System]
Will be updated often

Username: Adalrod (Both in game and out)

Pain is fleeting. The feeling of it is already gone, the only thing that remains is its effect on you.
Age: 20

Gender: Male

Main: Malzahar

Appearance: At 5'8", Moritz isn't the tallest whenever it comes to height, yet that doesn't seem to bother him. Moritz's long, black hair and light green eyes are constantly looking straight ahead, or wherever his current destination is. His posture is relatively relaxed, with his hands in his pockets and his head shoulders slouched forwards, but he gives off the air that he is no one to be bullied around. His clothing is typically the same as it is in the picture: rolled up long sleeve shirt, top button unbuttoned, loose tie and a black vest and pants to top it off.

True Appearance: When Moritz's true form is triggered his clothing undergoes no change. Instead, winding blue Arabic-style markings line his body and his eyes turn a searing blue. Moritz's true form is not currently able to be triggered at will, and grants him increase magical abilities for a short spurt of time (About 15 minutes). Heavily fatigued afterwards.

Powers:

Summon Voidling:
Ever since Moritz woke up feeling strange, he has had this annoying voidling following him. The creature is about two feet high, almost like a puppy, but with an insect-like exoskeleton and six legs sharp as knives. It appears relatively peaceful, but any time Moritz uses and ability it appears to be drawn to it, attacking if used on a specific person.

Call of the Void:
Moritz can summon a portal to the Void, which stays open for about five seconds before it loses connection to the "real world" and shrinks into nothing. The portal is about four feet long and three feet wide, and whatever happens while the portal is open is incredibly unpredictable. When in true form lasts for 15 seconds.

Null Zone: (True form only)
Moritz is surrounded in a five feet radius by a field of negative energy which dulls the senses of anyone in its influence and makes their movement sluggish. The closer they are to the center, or Moritz, the more the pressure impacts them and weighs on them... a feeling akin to being underwater with weights on your feet. Expires after Moritz's Prana becomes low. Marick is limited inside the field while in use, and the field is immovable. Projectiles slowed as well.

Malefic Visions:
Self explanatory. Dark visions plague the person afflicting, showing them different ways that they can perish from this world and different tortures applied to their person, including nails digging into skin, suffocating in space, so on. Can range from one vision to many, depending on Marick's prana pool and how much he expends. Max time: One minute. Twice as long while in true form.

Nether Grasp
Moritz grips the target with dark energies, immobilizing both of them for about ten seconds. A feeling of great pressure squeezes on the target, as if they are being squeezed with a great hand. Damage done is purely psychological. Moritz cannot break eye contact, and doing so will break the effect.

Personality: Moritz is relatively laid back and care-free, never really worries about too much. "Whatever happens, I'll live" tends to be his motto as he just pushes through it. Although he may seem like the kind of person to avoid his studies, Moritz is incredibly hard working in class, often working silently as those around him talk about their latest exploits and gossip. He is a bit of an introvert, keeping to himself or to small intimate groups. If there is a party, expect to find him in the corner or talking to a girl he fancies or a close friend... not in the middle of it all.
When it comes to League, Moritz is cool and collected, preferring to stay quiet and focused on the game. League of Legends is his way to simmer down and get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, so he typically doesn't get very angry when things don't go his way and his team starts losing, but you will never hear him yell at the screen. If a teammate cheats him, he will be the person who won't mention it- until he ditches you in order to live. You deserved that.

Short Biography: Moritz Valiero's family is ridiculously wealthy. In a "Father on Congress and mother CEO of Victoria's Secret" kind of way, yet he never really mentions it. An observant person may notice it through his expensive clothes, or his high-tier gaming equipment, or him living in the most expensive apartment at the University. Regardless, his family has been a staple of the town for awhile and well respected.
An only child, Moritz is prized by his family and he is repeatedly pushed by his father to be a politician, or by his mother to be a businessman. In all actuality, Moritz would be happier having a small job and have more times to just chill at home, maybe just being a waiter at Olive Garden or something. Yet, he has a major in Business and is on his third year doing just that.

Other: Along with Moritz's great powers have come something else. A small voice on the edge of his consciousness, barely perceptible, pushing him to take action. As his prana lowers, Moritz gets more susceptible to the voices and images, his natural energy being the only thing protecting him from its influence. Whatever this voice may be, it wasn't there before, and more and more strange things keep appearing to Moritz Valiero.

[User]
@Leolycan@TheWinchester4@Ambra@Adalrod@DFA@Kiroue

 'I bloody knew it... he was a problem after all.' Clarice thought as she was flung aside. She on purpose didn't bring out her sword when she attacked the Hecarim guy, she didn't really want to injure him much, despite her instincts calling to cut him in two. Still the fact that Claire and someone else interfered and stopped him, was good. She gave a slight note of surprise as the man began to come back to his senses, talking about how that wasn't him." It's more than just powers that we got..." She said as she took a deep breath. Traits and even it seems personalities from the champions were also present in some people. In her case she didn't exactly feel like loosing herself to Garen, but she did feel instincts and thoughts that weren't hers." We will need to be careful from now on... it's possible that all of us may lose it at a some point or another."

 Clarice's eyes flinched for a moment as she noticed what was going on with the woman she saved from being hit. She was losing control of her powers! The fire was starting to burn stronger and stronger. This gathering was a bad idea to be held here! If this went out of control the entire building could be in danger, not to mention all the people inside.

 With a single jump, Clarice found herself right by the burning girl. The heat was almost unbearable, but for some reason she didn't even flinch. That was probably part of Garen... Not to mention her armor was protecting her from the bulk of the fire." I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt..." She said, before her energy gathered in her hand. She didn't want to really injure the Shyvanna girl, she liked her... a lot! She felt her as a comrade, a companion to march side by side... another Garen thing it seemed. Anyhow... this worked in the game so it should work here too. The Decisive Strike should silence it's target. This flame was an ability so it should stop it in it's tracks! As her energy surged through her fist, she hit the stomach of the covered in flames girl." Claire, if this doesn't work, freeze us both!" Clarice called.

[Assistant]
Garrett Fisher

Crap. Garrett winced as his fatal blow slammed straight into the giant gauntlets. The woman threw his dominant arm to the side, and his eyes went wide when he noticed that Vicki was charging up a powerful punch. He threw himself to the side, grunting loudly as the harsh movement literally sapped him of energy. This form was drawing on his energy, already... he would have to get used to it. He struggled to regain his balance, raising his blades once more.

"You're wasting my time," he growled dangerously, producing another shadow beside him. The shade took the same position as he did, its eyes smoldering as it stared at Vicki. With a silent command, the ethereal creature sprang towards her, brandishing blades as it attempted to impale her. "Just die already!"

[User]
Vicki Victory

Just a moment before the shadow clone could impale her, Vicki placed her gauntlets into x-formation, guarding her vulnerable flesh. The metal-on-metal impact resounded with a mighty clang, and Vicki was forced to lean back slightly from the recoil. Vicki pushed back the shadow clone with a forceful shove from both gauntlets, causing it to stagger backwards. In one smooth motion from the push, Vicki brought her left arm down low, priming the boosters.

The steel-plated fist rocketed into an explosive uppercut, landing square on the shadow clone's chin. The black figure went flying, and disappeared in a puff of black vapor upon hitting the ground.

Vicki resumed her boxing stance, bouncing from one foot to the other, her yellow gym shorts flapping from the motion. Just a few seconds ago, she was terrified for her life. Now, Vicki was absolutely enjoying this, even knowing that her life was on the line. She bared a grin at Garrett, taunting him,"Is that all you got, crouching tiger?"

[Assistant]
Alex

Alex sighed, he'd thought it was a good idea, but when everyone had tried cramming in that elevator he'd just gotten a bad feeling and bailed. A few seconds later he was blading away for some food. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Hanging out with Arthur was fine, but with all those people? Alex'd never been one much for people and to be frank it was usually the other way around as well. The cafe they'd been in earlier had been nice. He turned the corner whistling merrily and entered, only to find that in the otherwise deserted cafe, he could see a women with two mighty gauntlets who could only be Vi and a dark male with blades that belonged to Zed. A champion fight? Already? One of Alex's knifes sprung to his hand and he twirled it idly, "Now, now folks, hows about we all take a step back and talk out our differences like nice people hm?" It was impossible to know who started the fight and Alex wasn't going to take sides in a situation he knew nothing about.

Artemis

Artemis stepped back quickly until she was pressed against the wall furthest from the action. Too quickly. Things were happening much too quickly. Sam without a doubt the champion of Shyvana. What she hadn't anticipated was the flood of people that came afterwards. Things were out of hand. Moonlight appeared around her body and swirled around it in delicate orbs. But she said nothing, merely stood back and watched silently. If she'd this idea was bad before it was nothing compared to what she thought now. The hecarim fought briefly with nearly everyone in the room before giving up and Sam was slowly losing control. Frankly she was surprised Liam and Matt hadn't done something but that was really no concern of her. Every detail of what was occurring was noted down in her mind, to be reviewed at a later date. When the armored women sprung forward Artemis almost stopped her, but her plan did she sound, if nothing else Claire's freezing should work.

[User] Moritz's attention snapped to the scale-covered woman surrounded in flames. Immediately after he realized just how close he was to said flames. "Shit!" Moritz exclaimed before running towards the wall, passing the armored woman running the opposite direction. He looked back, perplexed, but then saw the all-too-familiar blow that she was preparing. Garen. All of the pieces started to connect. The woman wrapped in flames was obviously Shyvana, and the ball of ice was probably Lissandra- Moritz made a quick glance at the elevator, seeing the vibrant icy wings - make that Anivia. And Hecarim- He looked back at the figure on the ground, then cursed under his breath. Running back towards his previous adversary and closer to the flames Moritz moved to pulled him away from the burning heat and towards the wall.