[System]
Age: 20

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Appearance: Standing at about 5'9" tall, Tiral has a fairly average build for his age, which is kind of strange considering how he's perpetually surrounded by the other Iron Rose Knights who seem to be much sturdier than he. His light brown hair is cut short, but has found a way of remaining a shaggy mess that barely avoids his eyes, even while he is wearing armor. More often than not, though, Tiral opts to avoid the usage of any large plate armor or metal armor, instead only wearing stronger equipment over his vitals and leaving the rest under regular leather garb. His sword will often times be sheathed at his side, ready for combat at a moment's notice.

Personality: Tiral is... Actually fairly deliberate for a knight, if not somewhat bored by the peace of everyday life. His journeys at a young age meant he was already able to experience life in the real world, and since then the dusty old libraries that the mages hold in such high regard have been... Well, fairly dull. This doesn't mean that he isn't devoted to his work, but rather that he does not wish to learn anything unless he finds it interesting. Even so, his patience when it comes to such things is unparalleled. Or maybe it's just the fact that he can slap some ice onto people's mouths when he's trying to focus. That too.

Brief Backstory: Having been orphaned a young age due to an illness that wiped out the rest of his village, Tiral was taken in by a priestess of Mayon who was moving with a group of travelers to bring aid to those in need. Though he was never explicitly religious, he greatly appreciated the efforts put forth to save his life, even then. As he grew up alongside these people, the priestess soon found that Tiral had an aptitude for magic. With a recommendation from her (and the goading of those around her), Tiral went off to the capital to further his studies of magic. Sadly, the monotonous life of a studying magician was not quite what the then-young boy had expected of magic.

It was then that he heard of the Iron Rose Knights, whose feats were oft recorded in the books he was forced to pore over. Deciding that the life of a knight was much more entertaining than the life of a magical scholar, Tiral packed up his things once more and went to join the order. Learning the sword came about as easily as magic did to him, but the combination of the two (and his somewhat strange insistence on learning both at once) made him particularly noteworthy among that year's recruits. Since then, Tiral has been honing his abilities, both magical and physical.

Equipment: Other than his rather 'unique' set of armor, Tiral wields a shortsword and a small ceremonial dagger. While the sword is standard-issue, the dagger is mainly used as a catalyst for some of Tiral's larger spells. It may be used as a glorified kitchen knife, but he'd probably never stand for that. More often than not, this dagger is tucked away in his shirt or under his breastplate, but it never leaves his person.

Skills: Contrary to many of his peers, Tiral has chosen not to solely specialize in the way of the blade; rather than just being proficient with his shortsword, Tiral is also proficient in the usage of magic in combat. This magic, focusing mainly on the manipulation on water and ice, has become particularly noteworthy for those who are particularly religious. He, quite frankly, just sees it as sort of a coincidence; his specialty being water does not mean that anything was pre-ordained by the gods.
Probably.

[User]
Sir Tyaethe Radistirin

The incoming troll's attack was slow--too slow, too harmless. She could have avoided the grab, dropped down or dodged out of the way; a troll well on the way to losing half its blood simply didn't have the reaction times to keep up, even with the drugs keeping it on its feet. That, however, would have gotten in the way of attacking. And so, with the shield on her right hand, she broke its fingers. Though, in the heat of the moment, she'd rather forgotten that wouldn't stop it from trying to grab, even if it could no longer do so...

Another hand dropped to the floor. It wasn't long before the troll itself followed, chest split by the repeat blows and no amount of drugging able to keep it going once its heart was split in two. Yet the paladin was already on the move before it was still, cutting down an orc and looking for another of the beasts--if, indeed, they were still up. At least they weren't much of a threat to her.

---

Lilianna Belwiss

How did any of what she'd said translate to "run at the nearest troll?"

[Assistant]
— Brennan —

The trolls were beginning to be engaged and taken down one by one. He stood up in his stirrups and reached into the leather satchel he had taken with him. The single clay tile inside had an inverted form of the rune he had used to heat his tea earlier. This absorbed heat and even now it was coated in a layer of frost.

Indrau unwrapped it carefully and threw it over the heads of his own troops. He noted the positions of Tyeathe and others within the orc formations and galloped over to a flank furthest from them. He threw it out and when the tile smashed it let out all of the stored heat, everything from sitting in a forge fire overnight.

The orcs nearest were incinerated in their armour, steel melting. Others were knocked down by the blast and burned.

— Brennan —

She spun out of the way, avoiding most of the impact and taking the rest on her shoulder. It's reaction told that it was possible to break through the haze of drugs. As fast as its charge was she had an easier time avoiding it than she had the airborn orc.

With one hand she grasped one of its arms, pulling to add to its momentum. On the other side she met the charge head on. With her elbow.

The result was a stomach churning crunch as it met the trolls face and sent a jolt up her arm. Unsure if the blow would have enough of an effect she followed it up with an overhead strike from her other elbow.

The troll dropped like a humongous sack of bricks. Salz stood over it, panting slightly through the mail covering her face. Underneath was an expression of rage. The orc that had been thrown at her moved and she stepped over to it, delivering a kick that snapped its neck and sent its helmet flying.

[User]
Tiral nodded quietly as he watched the troll that he had been focusing on begin charging towards him. He had already accepted that the possibility of getting it's attention was almost 100 percent, and so it was almost a given that his barrage of magic would continue on. One after another, the magical weapons continued to fly out at the troll, turning the enemy into a walking pincushion. Ideally, someone or something would topple it from the back to send all the weapons through its body (or, at the very least, cause them all to shatter and cause internal collateral damage so that others could finish it off), but until that moment came he would continue here.

The moment he heard the voice of a child, though, Tiral's head immediately snapped to face the source. With no trace of anyone having been there, though, all the mage could do was try and make sense of the very obvious warning for the Captain's safety. Pausing his own magic for a moment, Tiral turned towards the battlefield and squinted in an attempt to find the Captain in the middle of the chaotic battlefield. Luckily enough, it wasn't very difficult to differentiate between the two forces, though they were off in the distance, and it didn't take long for the mage to pick out that the Captain was indeed engaging with one of the enemy trolls.

Unlike some of the crazier Knights, though, she wasn't particularly built for dealing one of those monstrosities alone. After thinking for a moment, Tiral turned his magical barrage towards the troll attacking Fanilly before shouting at the people around him.

"Listen up! The second we get that second troll's attention, we're going to begin to move around and drag them away from the rest of their main forces! Do not, under any circumstances, stop attacking them! If we remove the larger threats and allow the rest of the Knights to clean up what's left, then we can systematically clean up the rest! Are we clear?" he declared, not waiting for an answer before snapping the reins of his horse with his spare hand. With the dagger still aimed at the other troll, Tiral calmly began to move his horse around, his eyes snapping between both targets in case any of them moved into a lumbering sprint.

Hopefully, they wouldn't be able to in their state, but it was never bad to be safe here.

[Assistant]
Fleuri Jodeau

Granted a brief reprieve from battle by the orcs' disorganization and the trolls' singleminded charge forward, Fleuri raised his visor to better scan the battlefield. He still could not spot the form of the Knight-Captain, however, and he could not afford to stand around doing nothing; he had to act. What would the Knight-Captain desire that he do in this situation?

She'd want me to not worry about her, and with the townspeople still safely behind the walls, she'd want me to aid my brothers and sisters, he silently concluded, just as he spotted Klaus battling a troll some distance away. She had maimed it quite handily, but it was still going, oblivious to what ought to be both unbearable pain and serious bodily distress. As you would command, Captain, he thought as he lowered his visor and tightened his grip on his zweihander.

"For Reon!" shouted Fleuri as he charged. Without his horse it took more time to close the distance, but he was deceptively fleet of foot even fully armored. The scarlet garbed knight rushed in from behind, swinging his sword horizontally into the back of one of the troll's knees. He preferred to strike killing blows as quickly as possible, but with the troll's great stature and hunched posture, there wasn't any place where he could decisively cut it down from behind, not without more strength than he could muster. And with the damage Klaus had already inflicted to the beast's arm, a grievous enough leg injury would leave it more or less immobile, and by extension, vulnerable to a killing blow.

"Klaus, finish it off!" he shouted to his sister-in-arms.

[User]
The troll under assault by the combined efforts of the enormous wolf and his mistress toppled backwards, its great head hitting the ground with a wet thump as dark red blood spewed onto the grass. Beheading a troll was hardly a common feat, to say the least, and some of the defenders on the town walls looked on in awe. This truly was the work of the Iron Rose Knights. The Order of Justice that destroyed the wicked and protected the innocent.

Indeed, now three of the trolls were dead(though one was possibly simply unconscious), and another had fallen, vulnerable to a lethal blow. The orcish forces were failing, but they did not yet seem ready to retreat. And still there stood six trolls on their feet. One troll swatted an unlucky knight to the ground, baring down on him. Even his armor wouldn't protect him from a direct blow, and he couldn't feel his left leg...!

Fanilly ducked under a swipe from the troll's clawed hand. It bellowed, perhaps in frustration. The blonde girl was well aware her weapons were not the best suited to killing a troll on her own. But she knew of weaker points across their bodies, places where their natural armor was thinner. Under the arms. The back of the legs. If she could hamstring the beast, too, its neck would be within striking distance! Another swipe nearly took her off her feet, but she jabbed its hand between two fingers. It snarled in pain, but soon was distracted when a hail of icy weapons struck it.

"Ah?! Sir Tiral?!"

The mage knight had come to her aid! The troll, along with the first of its kin that had been drawn by the arrows and magic bombarding the creatures, began to lumber away... though it was considerably slower, as if reluctant to leave its current foe. From this angle, however, Fanilly could strike its heel and bring it to the ground!

And yet...

Tiral would absolutely see it. And as a mage, he would have some inkling of what it was. There was what almost seemed like a spark of purple light from a distant treeline, and suddenly a rush of light and sound as something tore right towards the captain and the troll. Only ceasing his bombardment and trying to create some kind of barrier could possibly intervene...!

[Assistant]
Klaus
Klaus gave no time to waste, as she knew the anatomy of trolls well enough. No matter how durable they are, the heart, if stabbed, will let them lose consciousness. Just like the training this morning, Sir Fleuri has carved up another opportunity for her. And she wouldn't let it go away, not this time.

Klaus, with her one hand grip on the edge of the handle, thrusted her left hand towards the troll, making a slight twist as the tip sinks into the troll's heart. Her 'Piercing Moon' style was that same familiar technique that is used on various occasions, and she only uses that when she was certain she could kill her enemy.

Withdrawing her blade from the foul coloured corpse, Klaus sliced the body into pieces to lighten the falling weight of the troll's body. After all, an attack must have a beginning and an end. Despite thinking that way, she didn't bother shaking the blood off the blade. With her blade's fuller still thick with troll's blood, she galloped her horse towards another troll. She splashed the blood at the troll's eyes by making one rough swing of her sword, pulling the rein just ahead of the blinded troll's reach to observe what that thing would do next.

[User]
"Good, good! Don't let up!" Tiral shouted out as he watched the trolls slowly attempt to refocus their attention on the rearguard. While one was already slowly moving at the ground, the other seemed to just be torn between staying or going—ironic enough, given how they were probably too dull-witted at the moment to think beyond 'swing weapon at object in front of self'. This, of course, gave the archers and other magicians more than enough room to casually fire away. As Tiral continued to survey the battlefield from atop his horse, though, the slight glint of unnatural purple light caused him to freeze up. It took only a moment to estimate where it was headed, and his face immediately tensed up as he leaped off of his horse and pointed his dagger out at it.

"Position... Target... Gods be damned, I think I'll have to try this one," he swore under his breath before beginning to chant as fast as he could under his breath. As soon as it was complete, the mage shot out a small bolt of ice at his target, and not a moment too soon; just as the magical projectile could've gone through the Captain, the bolt of ice managed to collide with it. In that instant, the ice seemed to deform and curve, redirecting the magical attack towards the troll instead. Left in its wake, of course, was what looked to be a flower made from ice.

"...Huh. Irregular magical composition combined wi—oh, whatever, that's not important now. Men, keep firing! Focus on our initial target! I'll handle the one near the Captain!" he shouted, getting back on his horse before resuming his earlier tactic.


[System]
Gender: Female

Age: 19

Appearance:

6'0 | 150 lb.

Rank: PFC

Class: Lancer

Weapons and Equipment:
* Lancaar-MSH 01
* Ragnaid (Small)
* Pistol (The type Alicia used at the ruins; was that close to a Makarov or a TT?)

Personality: Emmaline is best described as a businesswoman who brings stricture and a worker's mindset in and out of the field. While she comes off as overly serious, sometimes cynical, and often sarcastic, she does have her soft moments when confronted with death, which she views as "just another goddamn door for the reckless or the hopeless". She fears it as much as the next woman or man, but in her self-righteous perspective, she believes she should be right next in line to the Darcsens, if not in front of the Darcsens, if possible.

That being said, she isn't going to give any special treatment to anyone that's still alive when the dust clears, regardless of what happened in their childhood or the last 25 seconds.

Bio: Emmaline was the overseer of a grain field and mill by the time she was 18, and was already considered in an arranged marriage. The eldest of four sisters, Emmaline had to hop between taking care of herself and her sisters while her parents tried to ascertain the best match between the three Muller brothers.

It was quite unfortunate to say that they took the Muller cousin, who lied about his wealth and played coolly the poor man against his three cousins. Emmaline was a little more than disappointed, but at the time said nothing.

Then the war came about, and the Muller cousin fled to avoid the draft. Emmaline wasn't going to stand for that. In a fit of anger, she burned their small cabin and stomped back to her village, only to find it under attack. One thing became another and soon, she found herself dropping grenades into the hatch of a tank.

There was a certain satisfaction about explosives one could get from using them. Maybe it was the comfort knowing that if the shrapnel, the fire, or the force was failing, the shock from the results thereafter would demoralize many. So when she, amongst a slew of other young people flooding in, was sent to the Academy, she found her calling as a Lancer.

RP Sample:

Emmaline frowned as she rolled the head of a wheat plant between her fingers. Today's year was extremely good, since the crops were much hardier than the last three. They had almost grown wild without her employees noticing, and so the harvest was more of a mad rush to reap, thresh, and process into what would be fine flour for the Capitol.

It came to her as odd that if she did meet the production quota, she was to send every seed of that strain to the Capitol too. In other words, she was playing roulette on whatever she could muster or send back. Policies like this made her blood hard-boil, but if she was only reborn as a man...well, then she couldn't wear dresses, couldn't she?

Appreciate your given life, her mom always chimed, but Emmaline always felt she was making withdrawals from a bank of time. This life of a lady wasn't to her liking, but her brain couldn't frack up any alternatives under that straw-colored hair, so here she was.

A wail from inside the mill told her someone had just soiled themselves again. Children these days...

[User]
Collaboration
Private First Class Cecilia Rousseau
and
Private First Class Evan Carn

His targets sighted, Evan strode over and greeted them. "Evenin', you two. What d'ya think of the squad so far?"

Ashart looked up when he addressed them, and quickly made an excuse before scurrying off. Hmm... Rude. Though maybe his actions, what with kidnapping them as well as his actions in the APC, hadn't left them with a very favorable impression of him. Fortunately, Rousseau didn't seem scared off by the mountain approaching her. Shrugging his shoulders, he tried to strike up the conversation again.

"Ok then, let's try this again. Good evenin', PFC Rousseau. What do you think of the squad so far? Feel like ya fit in yet?"

---

With little of anything to do after joining the squad, Cecilia struggled to get along with the others it seemed. It just didn't seem right to strike up any conversations since everyone else was already pretty much talking to someone else, leaving her to just sit and wear off the last bit of the booze, sobering up early in the drive. As she was thinking about what to do if she got the chance to go back to base and the possibilities of what has happened to her stuff, someone started to approach.

 "Evenin', you two. What d'ya think of the squad so far?" he asked. Thinking for a moment, she watched as the other shocktrooper that was recruited seemed to scurry away. Looking at the mountain of a man approaching, she was wondering, Who is this guy? "Ok then, let's try this again. Good evenin', PFC Rousseau. What do you think of the squad so far? Feel like ya fit in yet?"

Suddenly something clicked. She pointed at him. The voice, she had heard it, just earlier in the day in fact. "So ... it was YOU who drove this APC into the base. It was YOU who parked it in the practice vehicles area. It was YOU who drove it to the battlefield. So, it was YOU who got me into this mess. I mean, who the hell drives an APC into the practice vehicles area!? Why didn't you check if there was a drunk person or something!? I end up on the battlefield with no gear, clothes and really bad hangover."

After she had her word, she stopped for a moment, lowering her hand. "Ah, oh well. No used crying over spilled milk. But, I don't care what you say, your paying for my drinks the next chance we get. Think of it as your punishment for dragging a drunk onto the battlefield when they were sleeping. Anyway, moving along. Evenin'. I haven't really spoken to much of the squad so no idea whether I fit. Everyone else was talking, and I didn't really have much of a chance to speak so yeah. By the way, who are you? And how did you know my name? I don't remember introducing myself to anyone, besides Celeste, Seargent Harald and that guy who just ran away."
[/hr]
The sudden tirade of accusations caught Evan by surprise, though admittedly he shouldn't have been. In answer to all the questions that had been leveled at him, all he could do was shrug. "Oops." In truth, he hadn't even checked the APC for stowaways until they were about to leave, and his exhausted mind had thought it was a perfectly logical thing to simply drag the sleeping drunk along with them - with or without her gear. Not that Evan was going to apologize. Too late for that now. "Well yer mostly kitted up now, so you're good to go. Seems like it all worked out in the end. Besides! Now you've got another story to tell who ever your drinking buddies were. How often do ya get a chance to say: 'Yeah, well one time I got so drunk that I woke up on a field op.'?"

When the girl started insisting that he pay for her next round of drinks, Evan let out a hearty laugh. "Ahaha! Alright, I suppose I owe you at least that much." Something told him this was a mistake, though, and that his wallet would be regretting it later on. When Cecilia asked for introductions, Evan extended his hand for a handshake. "Name's Evan. Evan Carn. And I think I checked your ID tags when I originally... heh. Kidnapped you." He mentally prepared himself for another outburst to be directed at him due to the fact that he admitted to actually knowing about her being in the APC when they drove off.

"You're a shocktrooper though, right? Well you're off to a good start if you were talking to Ashart. Uh... Ashart, Sykora and Skye. Evan counted on his fingers as he recounted the number of troopers in their squad. "Yeah, those three are the only other shocktroopers we got. Ya might wanna get to know them since you'll probably all be fighting in the same areas."

---

Glaring at him, Cecilia sighed. She knew he wasn't really feeling bad about what he did at all. Making a joke of the whole thing. At least he accepted to pay for her drinks next time. He finally ended up introducing himself,  "Name's Evan. Evan Carn. And I think I checked your ID tags when I originally... heh. Kidnapped you." When she heard it ... she paused. So ... he knew I was sleeping drunk in the APC ... and still took off? What's with this guy was all she could think.

"Yes, I am a shocktrooper. Nice to know there's a few of them on the team. I was the only one in one of the other squads I filled in for. So ... Ashart, Sykora and Skye ... Guess I need to meet them some time." Cecilia replied as Evan told her about the situation with the shocktroopers. "So, what's the squad like? Like who is who and everything." Cecilia asked, wondering about what information she could get. She could then hear her name being called out, "Alright then, Ashart, Fairglaive and Rousseau sound off so I know who every one is!"

"Uh... Who's that calling me? And what does he do?" Cecilia asked.

---

Evan thumbed towards Hunt, when asked who was calling her. "PFC Hunt, our daily reminder of how the Army looks down on us militia. Was a scout in the army, but got transferred here for... some godforsaken reason." He shrugged. "As for the rest of the squad, we've got... Evan listed off the members of the squad and gave a quick (albeit somewhat sarcastic sounding) description of each of them. "I think that's everyone. Anyways. You might as well go figure out what soldier boy wants from you. He'll get all pissy with ya if you don't."

---

"Oh, someone from the army. I see. Hunt, huh ..." Cecilia said. She listed to her brief introduction to the members of the squad, nodding a bit. "Yeah I should get going. I'll see you later" she replied, grabbing the SMG she was given and headed out of the APC.

Heading to where Hunt was, she peered at his stripes. Lance Corporal? I thought Evan said he was a PFC she wondered. "Excuse me, Hunt. I was informed you were a PFC... Also, sorry for the late introduction." she straightened up to give a salute, "Private First Class, Cecilia Rousseau, reporting in."

[Assistant]
Lance Corporal James Hunt|On the road to Vasel

Hunt caught the saluting hand before it went all the way up, but not in a menacing way. "Easy, Rousseau, don't wanna get me, the Corporal, or the Sarge shot, so don't salute in the field. Anyways, pleasure. Sarge just gave me a field promotion and I'm your new fire team leader. Just wanted to see who was who since we have some new faces."

[User]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

Despite his attempt at breaking the ice, neither Ashart or Louque seemed much interested in talking. Harald persevered for a time, trying to get some background on them at least, but Ashart clearly felt uncomfortable and Louque refused to drop her lone wolf sniper schick. He eventually gave up and wandered off to smoke one last rollie. After giving the others an hour or so to mingle, he pulled himself back into the back of the APC, taking up position next to the gunner's plate. 'Squad, pile on. Carn, you're driving. Hunt, watch the rear. And... Muller, you come up from on the gun.' He turned his eye back to the road as the squad got organised. The route ahead was fairly straightforward, but they were heading further into Imperial controlled territory. It wouldn't surprise him if they ran into a stray patrol before too long. '... Alright Carn, pull chocks.' As the APC grumbled to life and slowly accelerated down the road, Harald surveyed the area ahead through his binoculars. It was relatively open land as the forests and bocage gave way to wild fields and prairie. Beautiful landscape, but pretty dangerous for a lone, thinly armoured APC. Harald took solace in the fact that they would see anyone coming way before they got to engagement range. Unfortunately, so would the enemy.

---

It was some hours later that something on the horizon grabbed his attention. Harald peered through his binos, straining to make out the shapes up ahead. 'Hey Muller. Can you tell what that is up there?' He passed his binos over, still squinting against the afternoon sun. It was blocky, half hidden in foliage. Possibly a tank..? As far as he could tell, it didn't have the usual dull brown Imperial camo. They needed a keener set of eyes. 'Jatmoore, get up here.' He pointed out the object, frowning slightly. 'What d'you think that is? Looks like a tank, but it's blue. Friendly?' He ordered Carn to pull up anyway, just in case.

[Assistant]
Alex Glaive

Alex looked more than a little surprised by the situation as not only was she being placed with some of the newer members of the crew, not that some of the others on the team trusted her anyway due to their suspicions that she an imperial. Still the biggest thing to swallow was that she was to work under Hunt who did not even get a real promotion and was already decorating himself.

Hoisting her rifle onto her shoulders she rested her hands on either side, a action that made her chest stand out a little in her tank top but she didn't seem to care as she made her way closer to the fire team. "Hey Cecilia good to meet ya. I'm Private Alex Glaive" Her eye brow twitched ever so slightly at the mention of her own rank, as she once held a rank far above others and she was respected.. She really had to stop thinking on such things or her cover was going to be blown.

"Hunt, maybe we should get moving? We have a long road. I'll stick to the back and watch other Cecilia" With that she lowered her rifle so that it was sluing over her back, motioning towards the convoy they were meant to be joining.

@Little_ninja@Zarkun

[User]
As Emmaline was passed the binoculars, she coughed and sniffled a little bit. Pollen wasn't too bad, but nevertheless, she was going to have a runny nose sooner or later if they stayed in the forest by late afternoon.

With the binoculars up her eyes, Muller pivoted the gun towards the general direction of the vehicle in question, and squinted to see if it really was blue in terms of paint, not just a blue tarp or something mundane.

The question was : were they right to even discover this in the first place? The APC wasn't made for vehicular combat, much less against something that could be a full-on ambush.

Well, she'd have to see for herself. If it was the red or black of the Empire, that would be no good.

Hopefully she wasn't going to see white and gold either. The last thing Gallia needed was a two-pronged invasion on both fronts.


[System]
Gender: Woman

Appearance:
Gina looks just like a male goblin with only a few features that differentiates her from her male counterparts like her long hair and her almost flat breasts. Aside from her looks, she also is plague with 5 major scars that she got from traversing the outside world. Born also with green eyes, and strong legs. One of her scars can be seen right on top of her forehead, which she got when she fell from a nearby tree near the cave, scrapping one of the rocks and giving herself a small horizontal cut on forehead. Three of the scars can be seen on her right arm, which once house two vertical lacerations and another deep wound. And the final scar is located just on her left foot, which looks like more of a bruise or a large clunk of her feet was lost, which she is embarrassed to tell about and makes a clear effort to hide it.

Personality: She sees the world as a place of adventure and fun, optimistic and full of energy. She likes to work up and swear and never likes doing nothing in a long span of time. Her optimism often blinds her judgement and would often leave her with a painful reminder of her mistakes.

Past Life History: In her past life Gina was named Silvey, an orphan that had to earn her own food every day. Though she could never steal anything sneakily, she could easily get away with the loot. So with a few of her friend they would steal food from the vendors and she would be tasked with running away with the loot.

After a while the police found their hideout and was dragged into an orphanage. Though the nuns where easily the kindest people that she ever met in her life, she felt sad and irritated because she missed her free life out in the world. After a few years she was adopted by her new family, where her new father was a parkour instructor. Watching him practice, Gina knew for a fact that she wanted to learn to parkour.

Being her usually self she quickly learns the basics and was doing all such of stunts around and near her house. A lots of which gotten her lots of scars. After years of training and horning her skills she was able to catch up with her father and was able to compete in various small time competitions.

 then one day, in her first ever tournament their car was hit by a truck. Killing her instantly, her father left with only one good leg, with only her mother being able to survive without much injuries.

Skill:
Parkour: She is good in traversing all manner of terrain, from climbing, and running, she can easily outrun anyone, hiding around the environment or even using the environment to fight her enemies.

(This will be filled in later as the rp goes on, for now just leave this part blank)
EXP:

Inventory:

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[User]
Goblin Gina

---

Dᴀʏ 4

@Wildman13 @ReusableSword @Kangutso @demonspade64 @Duthguy

As the girl offered her a hand in killing her pet and her partner saying to lay off. Gina chuckled as her rabbit starts hissing. And in an moment to confused and surprise them Gina picked up the rabbit and put her on to her head. Her pet still hissing and acting aggressively at the new found people and giving the girl a fluffy horned helmet in return. As she stabs the ground with her rusty sword, the way it looked is that she was like a knight now, a naked one at that as her clothes are still no existent and her only clothing is the hissing aggressive hat she has on. Smiling proudly or weirdly at the potential new disciplines in front of her.

@Darked13

"ZAT I HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU!" She shouted urging him to come near her as she forms a fist behind her back. "I REALLY WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING GREAT!" She follows up with a suggestive smile. A hint of anger in her eyes while clinging to her sword that lunged into the ground as support. Of course this was clearly obvious and visible to the goblin behind her.

---

EXP: 44

Companions:
pet rabbit, the rabbit is now tamed and will help the goblin and comfort the goblin whenever needed. If trained can become a great attack rabbit or guardian.

Inventory:
Makeshift net

Ancient sword.

Acquired Skills:
Ancient script: this goblin now knows the ancient language of humans past allowing her to more easily read and write things in such a language.

Amateur carpenter: This goblin has learned the basics in the art of carpentry, she can now understand how to make simple contraptions with wood as its base like a table or chair, more knowledge of the subject will allow the goblin to create much more complex items like siege weapons

Claw Climbing:

Devastating double strike: devastating double strike allows the user to quickly make a direct strike and follow up with a second strike just as quickly. The strike when used properly can create an opening wound and the follow up can destroy the internal organs or bones

Capture:

Titles:
Bunny Catcher,

Blessings:
Blessing of the eternal mother (Shirila): The goddess of earth has given the first blessing in decades to her newest priest. She has been given strengthening muscles and bones to handle more damage and a now eternal connection to the earth (now easier to evolve into earth-based creatures)

Curses:

[Assistant]
Goblin Luz

@Duthguy@Kangutso@Jangel13@Wildman13@Darked13@Jangel13

Luz then gave the female goblin an odd looked when she picked up the rabbit and place it on her heads WHILE IT WAS HISSING AT THE GROUP! Luz though the female was going to get attacked for sure but for some reason the rabbit left her be. How this female does it was an an...interesting mystery that snapped her out of her bloodlust. She actually did a silence clap for the female now watching to spook the rabbit on her head. "Bravo!" Luz told her she now admires the girl's bravely after performing such a task, so as a sign of respect she decided to leave the rabbit be, for it fate was now in the hands of its owner.

Afterwords Luz then joins up with Gird for the next hunt. it was at this point Luz's stomach was practically roaring for she hasn't eaten since this morning, not to mention she was also tired yet she soldier thought it in order to look tough in front for her fellow goblins for a future Leader could not look weak in front of their future subjects. "Ready to go?" She asked Gird and who joined there hunt with her signature warm smile.

[User]
@ReusableSword @Kangutso @demonspade64 @Darked13@Wildman13
Goblin Zats
Day four morning

Never even considering that Gina might hurt him or something Zats saw no reason not to check out what she wanted to show him, the way she smiled just sealed the deal. Even he had to admit though that the rabbit helmet and sword were unusual but she had always been a little strange and interesting in his eyes.

"Sure Gina, lead the way. Without any worry about what she might be planning he approached her. He was a bit nervous though and he was sure she and some of the others noticed but that was because he had decided to tell her how he felt when they were alone. "Honestly I'm just glad you're okay."

EXP: 4

Inventory:
Rabbit-spear, Rabbit hide, Sharp bone
Acquired Skills:crush, knowledge of the three, pole arm combat beginner

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[Assistant]
Goblin Zats & Goblin Gina
Day three outside

---

As Zat makes his way up to her, Gina starts readying her fist waiting for her moment to strike his unprepared belly. Keeping up her smile as a looming pent up frustration and anger starts to loom with her every moment. Memories of him leaving her and not giving her the right answer with her trial in the past. It was stupid at first but, it dawns to her why would she care so much. Who was he really to her the emotions started to swear every time he got close to him.

Yes, he left her all alone, yes he didn't follow her, yes he wasn't the one that found her first, and Yes he didn't take care of her but, he didn't need to, he wasn't obligated to, he was just the first very goblin she talked to but, what was this feeling it was strange.

So she forms her fist as before, closing her eyes as he closes in and goes closer to him. It was an aggressive advance as she pulls out her punches a small trinket of tears flowing from her eyes as she goes into him. Her eyes close and her pet rabbit hissing thankfully hopping away avoiding stabbing him in the eyes as she hissing in the sidelines making way for her master to go in for the attack.

---

It didn't take long before Zats realized something was up with Gina, though he still had no idea she was planning to attack him until she threw her punch. Caught by surprise as he was, he didn't react in time and got hit. Obviously angry he tightened the grip on his spear and was about to strike her with the blunt end when he noticed the tears in her eyes.

He had no clue as to why she would be attacking while crying but he knew him using his weapon against her wouldn't solve things. Hoping he wouldn't regret it he dropped the spear in hopes that the evidence he didn't want to fight would calm her down.

"Gina please, tell me what's wrong. I swear I wasn't planning on showing them our secret spots, but I figured I might need their help if you were in danger or hurt or something."

Not knowing what else to do he kicked the spear away as a sign of good will and trust, but made sure it stayed close in case she went too far and decided to use the sword.

---

As her punch connected she followed it up with a tight hug, her tears flowing as she feels him back once again. "I hate you, you idiot." She said as her emotions starts to flow. With every second her grip tightens as she holds him as tightly as she could like her life defended on it. She still didn't know why but, her heart demanded on it.

"Please stay with me…" She said as she buries her face into his shouldered silently crying. "Please Shirila help me understand what I feel." She unconsciously prayed to the goddess hoping that everything would make sense and reveal itself to her.

---

When she hugged him instead of attacking again he calmed down. He hugged her back and was glad that everything was okay between them. He started gathering up his courage to tell her how he felt, but quickly discovered she hadn't sorted her feelings out. He had no idea how to proceed, should he tell her what he though she felt or should he let her figure it out on her own? the fact that he wasn't sure about her emotions answered his question for him.

"I'm pretty sure I understand what you feel, but I also think it wouldn't be fair to not let you find out yourself, no matter how hard or difficult it might be. All I'll say is that yesterday I realized I felt the same about you."

---

She didn't listen, she was afraid all she really knew was that he was someone she cared for, he was special in a way she knew but, she wasn't sure and at the same time afraid. She was scared of what would happen next. So as he spoke and told her she felt the said about her the pain in her chest subsided for a while her shaking hands and arms where calmer as he hugged her back.

What she knew to do was prayed to the eternal mother for guidance and wisdom. She wanted to run away, to explore and to go on an adventure but, how can she if she can't leave him behind? She prayed and prayed silently looking for the answers she desperately needed. [color=red] "TELL ME WHAT AM I FEELING!"[\color] She yells out as her feeling erupt.

---

EXP: 44

Companions:
pet rabbit, the rabbit is now tamed and will help the goblin and comfort the goblin whenever needed. If trained can become a great attack rabbit or guardian.

Inventory:
Makeshift net

Ancient sword.

Acquired Skills:
Ancient script: this goblin now knows the ancient language of humans past allowing her to more easily read and write things in such a language.

Amateur carpenter: This goblin has learned the basics in the art of carpentry, she can now understand how to make simple contraptions with wood as its base like a table or chair, more knowledge of the subject will allow the goblin to create much more complex items like siege weapons

Claw Climbing:

Devastating double strike: devastating double strike allows the user to quickly make a direct strike and follow up with a second strike just as quickly. The strike when used properly can create an opening wound and the follow up can destroy the internal organs or bones

Capture:

Titles:
Bunny Catcher,

Blessings:
Blessing of the eternal mother (Shirila): The goddess of earth has given the first blessing in decades to her newest priest. She has been given strengthening muscles and bones to handle more damage and a now eternal connection to the earth (now easier to evolve into earth-based creatures)

Curses:

EXP: 4

Inventory:

Rabbit-spear,

 Rabbit hide,

 Sharp bone

Acquired Skills:

crush,

knowledge of the three,

pole arm combat beginner

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:


[System]
Brute | Level 5

---

-------STATISTICS-------

-------MASTERIES-------

| VIT -- 22 | 60% | BLADES -- D
| MGT -- 10 | 60% | POLEARMS -- E
| SKI -- 5 | 40% | AXES/BLUNT -- C
| SPD -- 8 | 60% | BOWS/RANGED -- E
| SRT -- 2 | 20% | THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 1 | 20% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 40% |
| DEF -- 4 | 25% |

---

Traits:

Weapon Familiarity: Effective weapon weight is reduced by one for each relevant weapon rank above E.
Juggernaut: After defeating an enemy with a melee attack, this unit can choose to move onto the tile the enemy occupied, and then make an additional melee attack against another adjacent foe if possible.
Smite: Command, when used shoves the target 1 tile away plus an additional tile for every two points of MGT above target's.

---

* Bronze Hand Axe

	+ MIGHT | 4
	+ ACCURACY | 60
	+ WEIGHT | 4
	+ CONDITION | 11/20
	+ RANGE | 1-2
	+ SPECIAL | Doubles as a ranged attack
	+ COST | 125

* Bronze Battle Axe

	+ MIGHT | 6
	+ ACCURACY | 65
	+ WEIGHT | 5
	+ CONDITION | 30/35
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 240

* Iron Battle Axe

	+ MIGHT | 8
	+ ACCURACY | 60
	+ WEIGHT | 8
	+ CONDITION | 45/45
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 550

* Ancient Blade

	+ MIGHT | 7
	+ ACCURACY | 65
	+ WEIGHT | 4
	+ CONDITION | 20/20
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | +3 SPIRIT while equipped. Attacks have a 15 + a.SRT - d.RES % chance of petrifying for one turn.
	+ SELL VAL. | 375

 Possessions:
* Vulnerary (1/3)
* 0 Aurums

Personality
* A man of few words with even fewer friends. Not in favor of needlessly violent options. First to jump into the fray and risk it all, eager to bring conflicts to a quicker and safer end.

Backstory
* Hailing from a small mountain village, Lyun set off after repeated sightings of bandits and other kinds of troublemakers. His goal is to make a name for himself, a reputation so undeniably menacing no one could ignore it. Such a priceless treasure would allow his village to live in peace, free from thieving cowards.

[User]
Lyun: "Those who crave power make questionable choices."

The brute's words are low in both tone and volume. While not a huge shift, his change in posture makes it rather clear how this has him on edge. A lower stance, eyes slowly shifting from Hellion to Hellion, hands ever so slowly approaching his weapons. The band isn't yet a second family for him, and it shows.

Lyun: "I live for my people. Those who crave power are not my people. I have no care for sides and I live for my people... Do with that what you will."

[Assistant]
Zarif

Zarif: "O-Oy! Captain, what kind of reckless ordering are you giving to these loyal ones!"

The merchant slammed his hand against the tent-pole to emphasize his shouting, making the whole enclosure shake a little. He was gritting his teeth and looking intensely at Doan-Nasir.

Zarif: "Surely you are not fool enough to send some Twenty and One men to storm the walls of Der! Not all the Arum in the world would make this one do such foolishness! Akkad must wish our destruction!"

[User]
Iddin was changed into new, subdued robes absent the usual ornamentation but equally absent the previous bloodstains. Unfortunate: it's always difficult to repair those on the road. The priest still had a slight limp and hesitation from his wound's memory as he entered the tent and paid his respects.

The priest produces a newly recycled tablet and reed, marking it as the group speaks. He clicks his tongue: a bit of time to research this one could be useful. He marks down the vague geography off the top of his head and some basic numbers. Population, distribution of the cash, and the like. But he catches particularly on the mention of "will" and responds dispassionately.

Iddin: "Since when were we the Hellions of the Akkadian Empire? I am hesitant to accept this on their terms. But they have given no time to negotiate. We sorely lack information: the number, the arms, the morale. But we can buy some time if we are the only forces to be sent. I propose we send some of our less conspicuous members to scout the city and movement, if safe. A regular operation of this sort on a city would require this preparation regardless: it would not be a suspicious delay."

Iddin: "In the meantime, our response should demand they acknowledge our independent position and provide extra compensation for the offense. If subduing this group is infeasible, we can claim insufficient recompense and abandon the mission. If they do not acknowledge their error, we can reject regardless. In either case we would not engage the dissidents unless we are prepared, and they would be unaware we planned to attack them. A particular advantage of our small band is sealed lips."

[Assistant]
After returning Etor went to put things down as the more established members prepared for their important meeting. Ravinia, another hellion, hurries to embrace Etor in her arms much to his embarrassment. Her tall frame completely eclipses the young spearman as she lifts him ease. Her plain garbs hide a an expanse of muscles that even lyun would not take lightly.

**"Ravinia: Oh my little Etor. I'm so glad you're back.! I made you some barley cakes."**
She showers him in kisses as she embraces him tighter

**"Etor: Ravinia please. I'm a warrior and that's why I asked for a reassignment into another group the first chance I got. I'm capable. I killed yeeks and a person. I don't need to be coddled. Although I will take some barley cakes... Please"**

Ravinia pouts and releases Etor.

**Ravinia: "Come to my tent after the meeting for barley cakes. I have to go now but I'll come find you after the meeting and I'll brush your hair."**

Etor shudders at the thought and heads back to Ninil

Ninil: Hey Etor. I thought you forgot about our arrangement.

Etor: Of course not. I just didn't want to bring it up in front of the others. If Ravinia knew she'd kill me. There's only one way to find out what I'm capable of and for that I'll never forget your discretion.

The young spearman and young watchman shake hands and exchanged aurums for a piece of paper.

[User]
The captain nods along to Lyun's words thoughtfully, remaining cross-legged upon the dusty earth. He mulls on the thought, appreciating a rare moment of insight into the warrior's soul. After a solemn silence, Doan's dry lips part, "Perhaps there's more to--" Before he could truly finish his thought the foreign merchant's voice chimes in, his reasonable concerns are well-heard amongst the Hellions. Each of then showing their obvious support. The captain raises a hand to settle the light murmur against the gentle crackles of flame. "The lack of sleep must be getting to me, or perhaps my heart is not as stony as the boys say. . ." He raps a knuckle at the skullcap upon the fallen Hellion's spear.
DOAN-NASIR: "Let me clarify." He begins, taking the tablet back into his hands and squinting in the relatively dim light. "'Know that the bands calling themselves Hartuum's Hundreds, The Dark Suns, and Shulaar's Scorpions will handle the main assault.'" Doan paraphrases to an extent, filtering out the beautification of their would-be employer's script. "'The Men of Titub and Utu's Chosen' will take a support role where needed. Remaining in reserve until Der's fortifications are broken, The Hellions of Gyr will enter the city and subdue dissident elements. . .'"
Thereafter, Iddin makes his claim. Again, the band is in general agreement, while the captain continues to nod in contemplation.
DOAN-NASIR: "Shrewd as ever Iddin-Ninshubar." Yet, he allows his soft expression to sour some, "Akkad and the Ensis of the empire very much so acknowledge our independence, as do they the other bands named. And that is precisely why they've devised this operation." The captain stands, lifting up the fallen longspear of La'um. "Our fate as sellswords is simple, to die a coward's death in the midst of our greed, used as pieces on our employers' many boards. Yet. . . With the subjugation of Elam, no great battles are left in sight four our Šar Kiššati, and so we are purposeless. We become dangerous elements, starving wolves ready to snap at any scraps now that the pickings are slimmed." He raises the weapon, thrusts it forth to where it halts before Iddin, the priest unfazed. "We are like the spear, wrought into this world by the hand's of ambitious smiths to sate only the dunes' thirst of blood."
DOAN-NASIR: "In the eyes of Akkad we must be cast aside, yet why not make use and wear us down before striking the killing blow? Yes. . . Perhaps the day for our kind will come again, but we cannot wish that upon the common man, we have chosen this fate, must we condemn the Empire for doing the sensible thing? I cannot say. . ."
DOAN-NASIR: "Forgive the ramblings of a tired old fool." He says, placing the spear upon a weapon rack beside his own. "Iddin. Men. I put to you the question, surrounded by stronger bands with a greater grip yet still upon the vices of our lifestyle -- what were to become of us should we decline and so too be labeled dissidents?"

[Assistant]
Iddin dwells on Doan's words and sighs. He takes one last glance at his notes on the tablet and stabs the reed in it upright. The tablet is left on the ground as he stands up and looks at the assembled band, especially Lyun and Doan.

Iddin: I loathe to admit it, but you are right. We do not have the means to survive making the empire truly angry. I suppose we will have to bend the knee and accept this operation. But combing an entire city with the size of our band is still impractical... And the operation as laid out only makes our role more difficult. We should head out early and take any opportunity to discuss details with the other bands that may, perhaps, have been given greater warning to prepare. I find it hard to believe they planned this entire operation without some earlier notice to their cooperating assault bands.

The priest looks over to Lyun again. Any information here is valuable enough to risk fighting a defector. And perhaps a defector could still gain the band an upper hand...

Iddin: It sounds as to me that you want to assess this situation on your own terms. Why not head sooner into the city, make your way in as before the assault you can, and make your own judgements? I trust you will be able to get inside without great suspicion. And if they are your people, give them a good word for us and contact us on the breach. We cannot stop the other band's assault but we can hide away who we can.

Iddin looks over to Doan for approval. Hopefully the captain picked up that Iddin's intent: defeat the enemy with the witting or unwitting help of an insider. Or claim Lyun's moral high ground if the enemy wasn't approachable. Whether the captain understood or not, Iddin was confident he could minimize risks with some trickery.

Iddin: We would benefit from more allies, after all. And this band is tight lipped enough to hide some renegades with new identities.

[User] He repeats the few words of Iddin's speech that resonated the most with him. The turning of the gears in his head is clear to see, and he soon stands taller than before. Lyun pays the Hellions no more than a nod before silently walking out of the tent and away from their camp. None of the Hellions attempt to stop the man, no more than a shout or two from the few veterans. Lyun walks, and doesn't look back.


[System]
Gender: Male

Pokemon: Vanillite

Backstory: Kargool is a Vanillite from a faraway town, where his rescue team hit the ranks fast. He fondly cared for all of his team, but later grew ambitious and brought it to his co-leaders that he wanted to create a second team far away, where nobody really knew him. His co-leaders, sad that he would be leaving, understood his desires and sent him off to form another team, which brings him to the current town.

Personality: Kargool is hardworking and intelligent, knowing what moves work the best on certain Pokemon, and normally has a strong sense of self-good. The issue is he's normally awkward when it comes to conversation, and trips over his words / repeats them.

Team: Currently seeking one.

Ability: Ice Body

Moveset:
- Freeze Dry (Earned via Experience)
- Flash Cannon (TM)
- Acid Armor (Earned via Experience)
- Signal Beam (Taught in hometown.)

Special Features: Has a small badge from his last guild on his "cone".

Family: His fellow guild leaders back home (A Tropius and a Klefki, representing with him Team Envirolock).

[User]
Keldeo

Zaru the Chimchar

Valiant Village

When they started the conversation about their training again, Zaru eagerly listened. Aura Sphere? He then thought back to his memories. Parents were fighting types too, maybe they... no, not them. Another Lucario they met in their travels. Helped them out with a bunch of bad pokemon. He might have used that move, the one involving a sphere of hardened aura that packs quite a punch. He then smiled at the two. "You'll get there either by evolving or by sheer hard work and willpower." He said, trying to cheer them on. When Slurpuff came over with the sandwiches, Zaru quickly eyed the treat. Hey, it looked delicious.

As Rico explained the contents of the sandwich, the Chimchar eagerly dug into his sandwich. The looks didn't deceive him at all. If anything, it was more delicious than what he originally expected. Like the other two that he was with, he began wolfing down the food. It wasn't long until he managed to eat all of it. He then leaned back, pressing his hands on the ground behind him to support his weight. "That was good. Freaking good." He had a truly satisfied smile on his face. "Never tasted anything like it." He continued. Well, that refilled his stomach no problem and gave him more energy than necessary. Ah well, he could just store all this energy for tomorrow he supposed.

[Assistant]
Devon the Totodile
Valiant Village, River near Central Plaza

Devon continued to float there in the dark waters under the bridge, still dumbfounded by his regained knowledge as he listened to Dylan reveal his only memories. Finally the Totodile looked back up at the Mudkip with a sad frown as he crossed his arms, shaking his head as well. "Me too. I don't got any info either. I woke up in those woods like this too. Now I can only remember my name, my Dad.....The feeling that I was with some really close friends before this....And that I was human....Sorry."

Staring off into the sunlight past the underside of the bridge, the former human sighed. "What are we gonna do then? We can't remember how we got like this....Where we came from....We gotta ask someone....We need to find out how...." Devon's face then brightened significantly. The reptile snapping his claws then turning back to the Mud Fish. "Hey! We should ask Spirit. Everyone seems to look up to him, so he probably knows something. Let's go!"

Without a second glance, Devon spun around in the water and paddled his way out from under the bridge to climb back onto the bank of the river. Panting, the now drenched Totodile ran over to Celty and the Eevee. A serious expression hardening his scaly face. "Celty, me and Dylan need to head back to the guild to ask Spirit something. You coming with?"

@Bright_Ops@Ninian

[User]
Celty the Mawile[Valiant Village - Central Plaza River]

@Noklu@Light Lord
Looking over the Eevee as the Snorunt took off, Celty was able to easily identify that the incident caused great sadness in him. "Hey, look... I'm sure that Snorunt had a very good reason for running off. It was probably me, actually, ahah..." Hanging her head, she wasn't quite ready for what Gredy had asked of her. Her previous words were to cover up her now inner turmoil, and hopefully lighten his mood. She already knew she was enough of a downer as it was.

This Eevee... wants to team up with... me? I... had no intention of joining the Guild here. I was passing through, I'm... ugh, who am I kidding. I don't even know what I'm doing, I haven't even figured that much out. I just ran away from Seelie because I'm a dumb fuck. I'm never going to find help for Lucrecia. There is no one who can help her. Fuck... shit... SHIT. If I say no, and let this little newbie run off into a dungeon... if he's hurt or worse, it's my fault. Of course, if I join his team and he dies, that's more blood on my paws. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

The entire time Celty was in the middle of an internal monologue, she simply stared searchingly into Gredy's large eyes. When she decided to reply, her steel horn drooped and her gaze averted, "Uh... yeah, kid... I mean... if you really want to team up with me, sure. It's not like I have anything left to—"

That was about the time Devon popped out of the water. Turning to face the drenched Totodile, Celty nodded slowly before responding, "Oh... yeah I mean, I guess I'm coming with. That's as long as Gredy hasn't already started to regret inviting me to form a team with him. We were just about to go over there, too."

[Assistant]
Kargool the Vanillite
Valiant Village, Guild

"N-No ma'am, I do not. I'm w-waiting to ask him myself if I c-can create a rescue team, considering I was a um... co-leader of my previous one." The Vanillite was very uneasy right now. He had heard the leader of this guild was very strong, but he didn't know if he himself was worthy enough to even ask for this privilege, let alone fight. Kargool only heard rumors of the guildmaster's power, and in an one on one match, Kargool would be melted. There was also this Snorunt, who bore an accent which you would find more common among Sneasel and Weavile, which begs the question if she was trustworthy or not. Kargool didn't have anything against the dark types, it's just they seem like they're always taking things. "You don't seem like you're from here... either... who a-are you?" It doesn't hurt to ask questions, right?

[User]
@Ninian @Light Lord @Bright_Ops

Hat

Valiant Village, Spirit's Guild, Midday

Drat. No luck with the little ice cream cone, either. He didn't even work here. She'd have to ask even more people to get to the guildmaster.

Oh well. It's not like she was in a rush or anything, there wasn't actually any dangerous outlaws moments away from entering the town and pillaging it. She could wait.

Actually, she should probably decide on which outlaw she was gonna use for her story. The wanted posters hadn't actually said anything about just what these criminals were capable of, just how dangerous they were according to some useless star-scale. That, and the sheer volume of the reward for bringing one in. The Scizor far outstripped the other two in both categories, and his poster was fresher, too. It was possible that the Jinx and Beedrill were both caught long ago.

She decided to use the Scizor. It would be a horrible embarrassment if she'd gone babbling about how there was a dangerous criminal nearby when said dangerous criminal was in jail already. Plus, bigger reward. Can't go wrong there.

With that, she decided on her story. The first person she'd spread it to would be this Vanillite, who was apparently new to town as well.

"Name's Hat," she said, "I'm not from round here. I came here looking for work,"

"Anyway, I need to see the guildmaster. I saw someone who looks a whole lot like this Scizor character on my way over here, I figured he'd want to know," she continued, motioning to the road she'd taken into town. If you were willing to stretch your definition of "a whole lot," then she supposed one of the many Corphish she'd seen while following the river counted.

"So long, ice cream," Hat said, before dashing off. She had to give the appearance of urgency, or else people wouldn't take her seriously. However, she had absolutely no idea where the guildmaster was, or even what he looked like.

Well, she'd just have to look for something that made her think 'Spirit'. Soon after leaving the guild, she found herself looking at the river again, with the Mawile down below, speaking to a totodile for some reason. Maybe she knew what he was, at least.

Hat approached the three of them. She hadn't expected to speak to her again so soon, but she seemed nice enough.

"Hey, uh, Mawile, I need to ask another question," she said, speaking up behind her again.

"D'you know what the guildmaster looks like?" she asked, "He wasn't at the guild, and I really gotta talk to him,"

[Assistant]
Tzerah the Luxray

Valiant Village: Dojo
Keldeo

She didn't really feel prepared when he started speaking to her, she hadn't planned this far ahead and when the Lucario started speaking she stayed silent until he had finished doing so. She knew he was reading her aura, she could read it on his body language and she didn't quite like it, she didn't like that he could see through her in a way that her x-ray like vision can't compete with. However She was a lot calmer now and having rested for quite a while she actually felt better too than she had done in a long while. She frowned and narrowed her eyes as she prepared to respond to him. "I... 'i'm grateful... thank you'" she muttered silently and in all honesty she was, it might been quite embarrassing but she actually felt a lot better. To fall asleep in the Guildmasters lap when she needed it the most... it was a safety she couldn't trade for and that she only felt with her mate before.

She didn't really feel like responding about her work, of course it was painful in a way to be suspended from duty, but she realized that she might have been overworking herself lately and quite frankly was glad they even allow her to continue her job as she had been acting quite bad for a long time. Yet her thoughts were broken off by the challange... or well more like an offer to spar, and it was in one way not something she would be quick to turn down. She thought about it for a second as she stretched on the spot and then nodded once "Very well... If its a fight you want" she replied with a slightly darker tone. 'A...spar?... with you?... yes... I guess that would be fun, perhaps slightly embarrassing... uhm I hope I don't lose or something... at least not badly' she thought to herself. Then she stepped out into the spar area and faced him again.

"Well. I hope you go easy on me... I'm a mother after all." she said with a slightly sly smile for a second. "I accept, but only if I get to request something if I win... I give you the same option" she said then as she took a deep breath her composition changed... her whole being just emptied out for an instant, like if her aura just died down with no emotiions left. "...bring it on..." she voiced nearly like a completely new being, her body then stated crackling, slowly at first from the tip of her tail then her whole body was covered in a thick electric field almost like a lightning armor.

[Insert battle music]

She was deadly serious about this fightm there was not a fibe in her body telling that she was going to hold back. It was like she was going into the last battle of her life where it would count the most...

[User]
Devon the Totodile
Valiant Village, River near Central Plaza

Devon nodded at Celty once she agreed to come with, a bit of worry on his face as he glanced at the Mawile for a few moments. Something was bothering her, but the reptile was sure what. Then a toothy smile came across his maw as he eyed the Eevee near her which the Totodile assumed was Gredy. "A team huh? Don't listen to her dude, Celty would make a great team mate. I'm sure you'll be happy to have her. I'm Devon by the way."

It wasn't long after Devon introduced himself to the Normal-type that another Pokémon approached them. Of all of his memories that seemed foggy, his knowledge of Pokémon was at least mostly intact. Except for this instance. He had absolutely no clue what this little orange and black creature was. He however did a mental shrug once he focused on the newcomer, deciding it didn't really matter what species someone was as long as they were nice. Unfortunately, the information that the little thing bared made Devon's smile dip down a bit as his arms hung his sides. "What? Spirits not at the guild? Crap. Uh...Sorry, but we don't know where the guild master could have went. He's a Lucario though. Nothing really different or unique about him either."

Turning back to the river, Devon gestured to Dylan with his hand in a sort of 'come on' motion. Ideas tossed around in his head on how they could locate the missing guild master. Hm....Who would know where Spirit is?.....Oh! The other kids from the guild! I bet Lulu and Rico probably know where their Dad is.

The first stage Water-type spun back around to face Gredy, Celty, and the Snowrunt once again with a new found smile. "But I know someone who might know where Spirit is. His two kids, Rico and Lulu. I dunno where they are but...Good bet is that they're somewhere around town. We should check out some of the other buildings guys."

@Ninian@Noklu@Bright_Ops

[Assistant]
Kargool the Vanillite
Down the road towards Boulder Mountain.
Kargool decided he needed to act on hearing this Scizor about to hurt the kind people of the village. He had taken criminals like this down before, back when he was a member of team Envirolock, that is. Scizor would be a very tough opponent, but needless to say a good challenge is always a nice change of pace. After all, Kargool had the badge to prove it. It'd be very risky but if Kargool pulled it off, he would have a solid spot for making a rescue team in no time. The Snorunt also probably went to alert the guildmaster that the Scizor was approaching town, so he would have some backup after a while. Kargool hid in the bushes once he saw sight of the outlaw.
Keldeo


[System]
Age: 40

Race: Male Caucasian, 6'2", 180lbs. Short Black hair, "Commonwealth" style moustache and blue eyes. Health and in excellent shape Steve has a few mirror scars on his chest and a talon 3rd company tattoo on his Right shoulder.
Sex: Male

Skills: Guns and engineering/repair. Has dabbled in other areas but not notable skilled.

Personality: although not particular warm Steve is usually Polite and friendly unless you annoy him. somewhat pessimistic and untrusting person, as Steve has often has to relive on himself when other failed him.

Weapons & armour/clothing: A grimy brown leather jacket wore over a pale shirt. Dirty Tan Slacks with leather belt, various punches and a gun holster attracted to them. USA Army issue combat boots and metal studded gloves.

For weapons Steve uses a Desert Eagle, level action rifle and a Talon company issue- combat knife which he keeps tucked into his boot.

(Previous) Occupation(s): Talon company combat engineer (and team leader), slaver, raider, caravan Guard, Town repairman, shop assistant, slave auctioneer, detective & slaver hunter, courier, "cook", smuggler, hitman and childminder

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None

Backstory: Born in the capital wasteland in 2249 Steve was the son of a former raider and his jet-addicted whore lover. Raised in an impoverish household (With most of the money coming in spent on booze and jet) he was regularly beaten and blamed for the state the family was in.

Things changed however when his little sister Susan was born, Steve was able take a beating by now but a small defendless baby? Hell No. Steve doesn't remember clearly what happened when he stood up to his parents but it ended with them both dead and their shithole of a shack on fire.

Dropping his little sister off at Little Lamplight Steve spent the next few months wandering the wasteland, barley surviving until he was caught by the Paradise Falls slavers but lucky for Steve he was not sent to the Pitt or brought by some sex pest but instead he was purchased the Talon Company.

Although Brutal and deadly Steve was able to pass the Talon Company training regime, scoring high on the technical tests Steve joined the III Company as a combat engineer and would spend the next 17 years in the company.

By 2279 the Brotherhood's war with the enclave was over and they had turned there to attention to the talon company, capturing fort banister and then wiping out the strike force gathered at Jury Street to retake the fort.

At the time Steve was leading a small group of Talon mercs at SatCom Array NW-05a, guarding the place for some ghoul who was using attempting to control some per-war military satellite. With it only being a matter of time before the Brotherhood showed up Steve decided flee north, hoping the brotherhood would not send anyone after him.

Steve would spend the next several years drifting around north east coast, taking various odd Jobs, getting drunkenly married once and perhaps fathering more than one child in the various towns, slaver or raider dens and tribal villages he visited.

Eventually he would be stumble into the commonwealth and found plenty of work in the chaos that followed the Brotherhood and instuite destruction but after hitting 40 Steve decided it was time to settle down.

[User]
Inquisitor Carver- Crater House

"Inquisitor," an Acolyte spoke, interrupting before Abraham could reply to Carver's queries. "We have a visitor, another of Atom's faithful," he continued, gesturing to a figure beside him- a hunched, hooded figure. "He has asked to see our congregation's confessor...as you are the closest thing we have to a Confessor, I thought to bring him to you."

"I apologize, Abraham, but I must handle this matter," Carver spoke, politely ending his previous conversation. He walked up to the hooded figure, unsure of what to make of him. The visitor was clearly altered by Atom's light, possibly ghoulified, but Carver had never seen a ghoul that carried itself like the being that now stood before him. The hunched, bandaged figure leaned upon what appeared to be a massive flail, and carried on his waist many bottles of liquid, glowing with Atom's light. Beneath his hood, his face was covered in bandages, and his eyes glowed not unlike that of the most Glow-imbued ghouls. A most strange fellow, unlike any I have ever seen before. As Inquisitor, it was his duty to scrutinize him, to ensure that this new arrival was not a threat to the word of Atom.

"What is your name, visitor? Where are you come from? And why have you come to this congregation?" Ian asked, stooping down to look the figure in the eyes.

[Assistant]
Dr. Arthur West - Salem Clinic

With the fighting seemingly done, Arthur crawled out from the storage space he'd been taking cover in and examined the damage. The Deathclaw had finally been killed and he was surprised to find a mutant now standing in his clinic holding an unconscious Steve. He froze for a brief moment when he saw the hulking green humanoid but quickly regained himself.

Another non-aggressive mutant? He thought to himself. No wait...

Unlike the previous mutant he'd come across in Salem, Rook he believed was his name, this was was different. It wasn't one of his. This mutant must have been created with a different strain of FEV. The physiological characteristic were all distinct from Commonwealth mutants that had been created by Bioscience. Perhaps to the untrained eye the mutants might look the same, but there were indeed visible differences.

He continued watching the mutant as the lumbering mass of muscle picked up the ghoul, evidently having been his companion, and then just simply walked out. Arthur stood gawking out the door for a couple minutes, the wheels in his head turning rapidly thinking up new theories as to where the mutant might have originated from, when his thoughts were interrupted by Frieda,

"Thanks for visiting! Have a fantabulous-fucking day!"  She called out. Arthur looked over to her with a puzzled expression.

"Sorry, I just…" Frieda blushed, again. "Sorry."

"Its quite alright," He said, "Its been.....well I was going to say 'stressful', but doesn't really cover today's events very well....I err....Frieda?" He realized Frieda had begun changing her shirt and immediately looked away with a slightly reddened face.

"Well, that's a little better, hm?" She said finally, "Can I help you with anything?"

Arthur opened one of his eyes tentatively, before opening the other. He re-composed himself and adjusted his glasses,

"Uh, well yes actually," He said, clearing his throat, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to go out and see who might need medical attention? And help them to the clinic if they need assistance of course. I'll begin treating Steve as best I can and then start on anyone else who might need help. Afterwards I'd like to have a good look at one or all of those Deathclaws...if possible..." He pondered aloud, "I've just...well...I've never seen one before...in the flesh that is.."

Hooded Figure - Crater House

"What is your name, visitor? Where are you come from? And why have you come to this congregation?"

"I'm a humble servant of our lord, just as you are holy Inquisitor," The hooded man replied. He turned his ragged head and looked up at Ian with glowing eyes, "I'm a wandering holy man to some: a demon to others. The truth is I simply serve the will of Atom, preach to those who would listen, and chastise those who might offend. I've gone by a number of different names in my long years, but you may call me Zhelk if you wish."

Zhelk got up from his seat and stood before the Inquisitor, leaning on his staff for support. Hunched and malformed, he was an embodiment of decay and a conduit for the glow. Even as he stood there, radiation quite literally emitted from him, and especially from the spiked censer attached to his staff.

"I've come here because Atom has led me here. He has shown me visions of a town in need of Atom's guidance. Of an ancient darkness that lurks among the unwitting and a fell shadow that threatens to engulf them all should it be allowed to. We must lead the people of Salem to Atom's holy glow brother, and thereby save them from the evil that dwells among them."

Zhelk began pacing back and forth, his censer swinging ominously as he did so, and the room itself seemed to glow brighter with radioactivity,

"Yes, it us up to us. Don't you see?" He muttered, "Atom's chosen. Atom's children. The glow must pierce the dark and thereby shine through to the outer void. The void beyond the stars...yes...yes.."

The tone of his voice became quickened, almost frantic,

"The great enemy has revealed itself. The great deceiver...that eldritch abomination and the hated foe of our Lord! Ug-Qualtoth!"

After uttering the name, Zhelk smashed his staff hard against the floor, and a great wave of radiation burst from him, illuminating the entire house like a beacon. Afterwards, Zhelk breathed heavily and calmed himself. He leaned against his staff as if clutching it for dear life.

"Forgive me," He said, "But Atom's words come through me like a tempest sometimes. Its difficult to control: a curse in many ways. I would very much like to visit Salem soon brother. We must do Atom's will. Convert those willing to listen and watch for the right signs. Will you join me in this? You and all in this congregation?"

[User]
Striking the creature in the back of neck and causing it the bleed the deathclaw mother threw let out an angry loud roar before swinging its powerful plated tail in Steve's direction...

Oh fuck....

------

Steve awoke.... he was no longer in the diner but resting in a rather comfortable metal bed. Looking around the room it became apparent he was in Doctor Holmes talon company clinic which had been set up on the 3rd floor of an old per-war hospital in downtown DC.

Noticing Steve had awoken Doctor Holmes approached his bed "The mission was a success.... Now rest up and you'll be back on feet in a few days."

Boom!

There an explosion outside followed gunfire which became louder and louder before the clinic's doors where punched open and sent flying into Doctor Holmes. Turning back to the doorway Steve watched as three power armoured brotherhood troopers entered the room, the leader pointed at Steve and almost screamed "kill." in a deeply muffled voice...

Terrified and not wanting to die without a fight Steve sat up, drawing his 50. Pistol and began firing at the brotherhood soldiers "fucking die tin-can mothefuckers..."

Bang, bang, bang, bang, Bang, Bang

"STEVE!"

Suddenly Steve was no longer in Doctor Holmes's clinic but Salem church, sitting up on one of doctor west's cot beds with his (emptied) 50 Pistol in his right hand and several new bullet holes in the old church's wall.

Collapsing back onto the cot bed Steve dropped his pistol on the floor and looked at the deathclaw slash wound on his chest "Sorry doctor I though the brotherhood..... never mind, it was just a Bad Dream"


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Power: Regeneration
Appearance:
 Height: 5'6"
 Complexion: Caucasian/Pale
 Hair Color: Blond
 Eye Color: Brown
Personality: Meek and humble, Parker often talks poorly of himself and highly of others, even those who may not be very deserving of praise. Despite having his own hopes and dreams, he'd rather help another achieve theirs because he doesn't view himself capable of being a "major character."
Biography: A new recruit into the Department of External Affairs, Parker had only recently graduated from college when he was scouted for the experimental procedures. Due to his belief that he had no notable talents or skills, he agreed to the conditions. After the evaluation, it was decided that he would be granted the power of regeneration, in which the pills administer an influx of white blood cells and increase the strength of the naturally occurring ones.

[User]
It had always been Parker's dream to be a hero; as silly and idealistic as it sounded, he'd always admired the protagonists in those comic books. They always succeeded, no matter the strife that they had to endure, and in the end, everything would be fine once more. Social order would be restored, the guy would get the girl, and everyone but the villain would be just peachy. Possessing such strength, such courage, was what Parker had always aspired for, but on his own, it was impossible. He was just one of those faceless background characters, the nameless taxi driver or waiter, or, even worse, one of those who the villain killed in order to show just how ruthless he was. He didn't really matter. He was just there to amplify the superhero's persona.
 He was just average.
 Finally, though, he'd been given an opportunity to be so much more than that. It was all thanks to the Department of External Affairs. He would never be able to repay them for that, but even if it cost him his life in interest, he'd be willing to shoulder that debt.
 "Well, I could always stand in the open and wait for something to happen," Parker replied, tilting his head upward a bit in order to meet his taller companion's eyes. He smirked. "Kidding, kidding, before you go into one of your episodes. But I'm not willing to leave until we complete our mission. I'm not going to make a fool of myself before we even have the chance to get in our first kill."

[Assistant]
Sebastien sighed in exasperation and shook his head slightly while pulling a bottle from his pants pocket. After unscrewing the lid, he shook a few pills loose and popped them in his mouth, chewing on them. For the last year, aspirin had become his second best friend and must have gone through at least two bottles per week. He knew it was unhealthy, but the pain in his head was unbearable to deal with day in and day out. Though it didn't make it disappear completely, it was relief nonetheless.

He fell into a short silence as he racked his brain for a plan. Despite the pain he knew it would cause, he grabbed his glasses from the pocket on his shirt and put them on. As soon as he did so, the world came into view clearly and exploded around him as his eyes absorbed all the information his surroundings had to offer. It knocked him back a few inches as if he'd been physically hit, but at least he'd learned to stay on his feet when the overstretched rubber band snapped.

"Alright...the ladder residing in that alleyway to our two o'clock leads straight to the roof. It's only three stories up, but if one of us climbs that ladder to the top we will have a clear view of a three block radius. They will see us up there and if we cannot find them, then they will come to us. I will climb to the top and take up an observation post." He smirked slightly and crossed his arms. "It technically was your idea, was it not?"

[User] Almost frantically, Parker said imploringly, "Yes, it was my idea, but only for [i]me[i] to be the one out in the open. You may be smarter than me, but I do still have eyes, you know. If they're near, I'll notice just fine." He unzipped the pocket of his coat, taking out the orange bottle of pills. Unscrewing the cap, he knocked out a couple of the blue capsules. "I'm the one who's designed for the whole "getting shot" sort of thing. If I need you, I'll call you up. Otherwise, stay here and be a good boy, okay?" Swallowing the pills, wishing that he had remembered to bring a bottle of water in his haste, he headed towards the ladder. As he got closer, he safely stashed the bottle back into his coat.

[Assistant]
Sebastien cursed under his breath and glared at Parker's retreating form. "Just because you have the healing abilities doesn't mean you have to be the one in danger." It was a selfish thought that was probably only brought on by his annoyance, but if he knew Parker would have the ability to heal himself, then was there really a point for him to have joined in the first place? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he already knew the answer to that and wanted to kick himself in the ass for even thinking such thoughts. They had been together, stuck life glue since they had met in the second grade and there was no way he could allow Parker to go to war without him doing so as well; that sounded eerily like the Vietnam War to Sebastien, as the rich, smart college students stayed behind while the lesser fortunate had to fight a war that wasn't theirs to fight.

He slowly walked towards the alley to get a better view as Parker begun his ascent to the top. "Don't fall because I'm not carrying your ass back," he yelled at him, only half joking.

[User]
"Don't jinx me!" Parker hissed back down, glaring down at him. He immediately regretted looking down, as the vertigo rushed to his head. One hand, becoming clammy, slipped on the rusted metal of the ladder; barely refraining from letting loose a shriek, both of his arms lashed out in order to wrap around it. As he felt himself become sure of his balance once more, he heaved a sigh. Yes, he would have healed after a few minutes, but that didn't mean he exactly liked the idea of landing on the cement below. And yes, he was barely ten feet in the air, but what if he hit his head? "From now on, just be freaking quiet when I'm trying to do something like this, 'aight?"
 Huffing, he continued his ascent--more successfully--until he planted both feet firmly on the rooftop. From up there, he could see the bustling city below. The streetlights flickered, cars shadowed each other as they sped past, and on the neighboring sidewalk, a few pedestrians could be seen stumbling home. He eyed them carefully, but ultimately decided that the middle-aged woman in a parka and the drunken businessmen were not genuine threats tonight. Moving carefully to the edge, he said to Sebastien, "I don't see anything unusual. You still don't sense anything?"

[Assistant]
"I've got nothing," Sebastien said as he looked around. As his eyes fell upon certain objects, his eyes saw something that could be compared to an invisible matrix of numbers and letters as they calculated in his mind. The ominous shadows that were cast on the other side of the windows as people passed by were observed to make sure their postures didn't pose a threat, empty alleyways were surveyed to make certain there were no possibilities of other hidden in them, observing vantage points that assailants could use to their advantages to attack unnoticed, etc. The world was nothing more than a large mathematical problem to him and it was up to him to solve it. Once his mind was truly put to work, the pains dissipated drastically since he had bigger things to focus on.

After taking one look at the top to make sure Parker made it to the top safely, he walked to the mouth of the alley and leaned against the wall before pulling out a smoke from his worn brown leather jacket. He usually wasn't the type of person to condone the use of drugs and other substance, but the nicotine helped calm his nerves. Once the cigarette was lit, he took one inhale of it before instinct warned him to look down the street.

Just as he looked, a figure wearing a dirty, ragged long coat rounded the corner and was walking straight for him. The figure looked innocent enough, but someone told Sebastien to keep an eye on the figure as it approached, so he did. Though he tried not to, he stood up straight as his own body tensed as he saw noted the tension in the shoulders of the person, knowing that they were a loaded gun about to shoot.

The seemingly homeless individual stopped just in front of Sebastien and looked him directly in the eye; definitely the eyes of deceit. "Could you spare a smoke, friend?"

It took a moment for Sebastien to respond, since he was practically in a comatose state as his mind kept reeling in the information of the current situation presented. His training had taught him what to do and could perform his duty near flawlessly, but upon seeing his first target while on the job it was too surreal. Everything seemed to be happening too fast yet in slow motion at the same time.

"Sure," he finally said as he slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, never taking his eyes off the intruder. "Do you have a light?" Just as his hand grasped the handle of his specially made trench knife, the assailant seemed to notice what he was doing and raised his hand to strike at his chest. Not knowing what type of power he possessed, Sebastien jumped back as far as he could to prevent contact with the hand, slamming his back harshly into the wall as he struggled to get the knife out of his coat pocket.

"Parker!" Just as Sebastien was about to strike, the assailant tried grabbing at his throat and he shoved off the wall to roll to the side of him. As he pushed himself up with the momentum of his feet, he slashed at him, but when he made contact with the blade it came back partially melted. "What the...?"

[User]
Upon hearing his partner's cry, Parker rushed down the ladder. At the end of the alleyway, he could see Sebastien and a homeless-looking man facing each other off. Deliberately, he shouted out, "Sebastien, are you okay?"
 Immediately, the man yanked his head around; his arm then lifted, one finger on the trigger of his revolver. Though shaky, it remained aimed at Parker, who gave pause about five yards from the two. He then looked back at Sebastien, and said, "You must have had some sort of power to know what I am. So what about your friend here, huh? What can he do? I'm assuming he can't dodge a bullet."
 He then smirked, and in one fluid motion, fired.
 The bullet sunk into flesh, and Parker released a hiss of pain as he looked down at his stomach. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through his coat until it began to dribble onto the ground.
 "That was just a warning shot. Now--what?" The man's eyes widened as he watched Parker take off his coat calmly, reaching through the tear in his shirt in order to dig his fingers into the wound. Though it was true that he could heal, bullets could be rather tricky in the future; his skin healed, but he couldn't just allow the bullet to stay in there and make a new home out of his intestines, now could he?
 "And there we go," said Parker cheerfully as he flicked the bullet onto the ground. He then looked back at the man, smiling. "I've been waiting to meet one of you for so long! And here you are! It's my third biggest dream come true!" He reached for the holster on his hip, taking out the semi-automatic pistol. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to make friends. What's that phrase? 'Shoot first, ask questions later?' Yes, that's what my superiors expect of me."
 He fumbled with the gun, brow furrowed in confusion.
 "What, boy? Don't know how to use a gun?"
 "Sebastien, how do you turn the safety off again?" Parker sighed.

[Assistant]
"How did you graduate from training again?" Sebastien said, shaking his head. The guy raised his gun to shoot Parker again, but wasn't going to allow it; just because he could heal didn't mean he wanted to see his friend in pain. He threw his knife to the ground and reached into the back of his jacket to pull his own gun from his holster, taking aim. Now that he had the advantage over him and the guy lined up in his sights, he didn't know if he could take the shot. Utilizing your abilities was one thing, but he honestly didn't know if he was capable of murder; wasn't that part of his job description now, though?

"Drop your weapon or I will blow a hole through the back of your skull!" he said in a demanding tone, gripping the gun with both hands to steady the aim; hopefully he didn't notice the shaking in his hands. "Drop the gun...drop the gun... There had never been a prisoner taken into custody before, but had the DEA even attempted to capture one alive?

[User]
The man only grinned, the expression almost feral. He then said, "Drop my weapon? Boy, it's just as your friend said. 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'" He lined up Sebastien in his sights once more, finger itching to pull the trigger again. "Your incompetent partner doesn't know how to properly wield a gun and you are too cowardly to pull the trigger on yours, so I suppose it's my responsibility to take matters into my own hands. I wish you the best of luck in your next life."
 Just as he was about to fire, there was a flash of pain and then darkness.
 The corpse collapsed first onto his knees, and then fell to the side. Half of his head was just gone, the brain matter splattered on the ground and on the nearby walls. The other half was contorted into an agonized expression, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, as if the man was still in shock even after having lost awareness.
 "Are you okay, Sebastien?" Parker asked, rushing to his partner's side. Hastily, he checked for injuries, but thankfully, he found none. He then sighed and, before Sebastien had the chance to answer the first question, he inquired, "What happened? Why didn't you shoot him? He was going to shoot you, and you've never been the type to freeze up before. He would've killed you, Sebastien!"