[System]
Age: 26

Race: Cursed Human

Appearance: Victor stands at 6'0'' and weighs just over 230Lbs. with an average muscular build. He has orange hair and yellow eyes, ceremonial tattoos are scrawled across his body giving off a slight orange glow at all times, like the light from a single candle. He wears a long headscarf and baggy clothing to hide the glow and his rather infamous face.

Role: Carpenter and lumberjack.

Bio: Victor had a rather normal and simple life growing up. Being raised in a small village far from the hustle and bustle of the city, this village was surrounded by thick forests and the occasional old ruin. His father was a carpenter and his mother a cook, they raised him to know how to read and write. The father teaching the boy how to find and cut trees into lumber and usable pieces, his mother always making sure he was fed and knew how to cook for himself. It wasn't long before he took a liking to one of the local girls, Sara Frostfire a Kitsune whose family were the local healers.

 For a time he was happy, a young strong boy with a very lovely kitsune he was on the verge of marrying who wouldn't be happy. Alas, things were not to last, one special night he took his soon to be bride deep into the forest to a special place. A small hot spring, light from the full moon shown down into the light blue pool. This was to be their first time alone, to just be enveloped in each other's company yet someone had other plans. They were followed by others wearing red hoods and black masks, in an instant they were surrounded and subdued before being knocked unconscious, The last thing he remembers is Sara's screams.

 He woke confused and frightened in a large old room, his hands were bound and he had a gag in his mouth. Candles and moon light filled the room with enough light to show strange and old runes spread across the ceiling, walls and floor. The runes that were engraved around him were filled with a red viscus liquid, this place was old, felt old, smelled old with only the sound of a slight dripping somewhere around him and his own breathing. He didn't see them at first, the hooded figures that stood so quiet and still around the circular room not until one stepped out wearing an entirely black robe and red featureless mask. This Man spoke first then the others followed, they spoke a language he did not understand and somehow it hurt him to hear it. Victor writhed in pain his only thought was to desperately search for his love.

 The chanting didn't stop and some hooded figures soon began focusing their magic towards the center, not on him but towards the runes on the floor around him and then slowly they all began to do so. The pain… the pain… pain… pain… his thoughts were drowned out he could hear screaming he tried to see who was screaming but noticed he couldn't see anything, only darkness. He woke in that chamber, he could see but he was taller and his field of view had changed he could see more now than before yet he was kneeling. When he tried to stand nothing happened, he couldn't move or talk and what movements he did make were involuntary as if he was only watching and listening as something else controlled him.

 The mage that began the chant stood before him and spoke, "Argor, The Blood Demon, your payment has been fulfilled with the blood of a virgin and the soul of another. I am your new master you will obey your master, you will obey me. Now go Argor and spread my terror and will across the country side." For the next four years to come Victor had to bear witness to the crimes he was being hunted for, terrible things that left him broken. He was able to find Sara again her body had been ravaged and bled dry, he figured that her blood was the red liquid at the ritual and all he did was buried her and take the ring he gave her.

 It took them 4 years, 4 long and bloody years to capture him and take him to court. The local lord a man driven by justice and superstition was his judge, then something unexpected happened someone got it into the lord's head that if he were to kill victor it could release the demon bound to him into this world. Yet to please the public and their unrest he told them he was going to destroy this man and the beast within. Victor didn't care no punishment was harsh enough, no jest, insult, or question broke his concentration on the two plain gold rings he held in his hands. And yet he was subdued and put to sleep by a mage's spell. Now it seems the lord simply wanted to get rid of the man and banish him to the new world by locking him in a crate and placing it in with the food supply that was to go with the expedition team, thus brushing his problem under the rug.

Skills: Other than what is expected of his profession building and lumber gathering, Victor is rather skilled in cooking and foraging, as well as basic farming and medicine with a bit of singing and playing musical instruments put in. With living in the forest for so long his survival skills are quite good and if necessary he can defend himself from wild animals but does not like violence.

Magic: Aside from his curse Victor has no magical aptitude to the point that even enchanted or magic items are simply mundane in his hands, this may be a byproduct of the demon taking whatever magic he has.

The Curse: By means of old magic, Victor is soul bound to a demon named Argor. Lately he has been able to control his transitions and although he has no control over the demon yet it seems to know friend from foe. This binding has given Victor slightly improved stamina and strength compared to normal humans.

The Demon: Argor is a Sadistic cruel creature that has an aptitude for Combat, violence, And bloodshed. Two things change when he takes control of Victor, the first is his eyes turn completely black by unknown means and the second and more noticeable is the color of his tattoos change from yellowish orange to a dark red. This change can be sudden and happens randomly or when Victor is emotionally compromised. However, Being that he is in a separate realm from the mage that summoned him, Argor now has free will of his actions.

Equipment: Other than his carpentry equipment, shovel, pick, ax, saw, hand drill, hammer, nails, knife, Etc… he has nothing other than two golden rings he wears with a simple metal chain around his neck and his unusual baggy clothes. Argor prefers to use the lumber axe when in combat.

Other: If you get him to talk about his past which he is still reconciling, consider yourself lucky he doesn't like talking about his past. Also the demon isn't a silent bystander and does talk to Victor, where Victor might just seem like hes having an argument or talking to himself to others. Also Victor is known to some as the "Crimson Marauder" for his murder spree and the destruction he has caused.

[User]
@Esailia

Zeke smiled in response to Rhen, though it was only a courtesy. Affected since birth by monochromatism, Zeke was completely unable to distinguish any color. He only knew of color from the words of others, though was never able to grasp the concept. As such, he often forgot entirely of its existence, as was the case here. To him, it seemed as though the shadows on the changeling's face and hair shifted to the other side, with the occasional dark band in between.

He tried to hide his confusion, but honestly Zeke had no idea what he was looking at. Instead, he focused on Rhen's words. They were indeed correct about him not being interested in girls, though he didn't really care to mention that. Unfortunately, he had already revealed it by failing to recognize the flirtatious nature of the changeling's smile. "Well-" he realized, too late.

"Erm." He decided against saying something else, and instead maintained a prolonged silence. Good job. You were not only unsuccessful in conversing with the changeling, but you've also made yourself into an awkward fool. Congratulations. Zeke touched the tip of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger. Well, maybe so, but this is normal behavior in this regard. If anything, it makes me look more relatable.

Perhaps.

He continued working at the wood, vaguely paying attention to what the others were saying. "Maybe there are no animals because a large group of strange people just appeared from a foreign magical device," he muttered. Magic was viable here, since the portal could bridge and Rhen had obviously just used it, but that didn't mean that magic was actually an aspect of this world. What if they had introduced it by coming here? From what Zeke knew, magic could be self-contained, so this was entirely possible. And were there humanoids here to begin with?

Then he had another idea, one so profound and probable that it actually made him stop walking. The only form of life they had seen were plants. What if this was a relatively new ecosystem? These grasses would be the pioneer species, unable to support more than one or two tropic levels in a food web. He knelt to feel the ground. The soil was rough, which could indicate rocks had been recently broken down. The grass was the same way, a hardy species adapted for survival.

It made perfect sense. Zeke scanned the horizon - there were a few flowers and trees, but not many; the next stage of succession was underway. It fit too well. His heart pounded loudly, he couldn't breathe. Was it the truth? Would he be able to study a fresh, uncontaminated ecosystem?

But as he examined the mountains, Zeke released his breath in dismay. They were sedimentary, clearly eroded over time by wind or water or dust. They were not very tall. What reason would there be for old mountains to be near young plants? Unless it was the erosion of the mountains that helped create the soil? He thought furiously, though didn't have an immediate answer.

[Assistant]
Shel was enjoying simply being out in the open world again, if you let your mind drift you could pretty easily forget that you weren't just going for a day hike out to the mountains. There was a certain pleasure to be found just putting one foot in front of the other, feeling your pack shift with every step. Particularly since they were not just trailblazers here but THE trailblazers. This was virgin territory, all of it. The only thing that could make this better would be a nice breeze. Maybe a good stew.

The Mithra asked if anyone had seen animals and Zeke replied quickly with a rather astute observation.

"That's a good point," Shel said, tilting his head back to help his voice carry while still keeping an eye on the ground below to avoid tripping, "Can't see any sign of other folk out here. Nothing deliberate, nothing purpose built out here. But..."

He paused, falling out of sync with the group while he peered about for a second then caught up.

"We've covered a decent distance now and I for one haven't seen a sign of any life at all. That is peculiar."

He caught up with the group and spoke to them in general but to Zeke in particular,

"No deer, no wee little rabbits, or something of the sort, that might make sense. Like ya said, scared off by new sounds and smells and all that." He sniffed at his armpits and scrunched his nose up in mock disgust, "Makes sense it does. What doesn't make sense though?" He gestures all around them, "No birds in the distance, no hawks or crows. No bugs in the grass, or on our clothes or flitting about. No lizards soaking up the heat on these rocks."

He pauses for a moment as an idea pops into his head.

"Just a minute yeah?"

Not waiting for a response he looks about for any large flat rocks in grassy areas. Finding one he kneels in close, looks back towards the group smiling, and slowly lifts the rock up looking under for any signs of life.

[User]
@Esailia
Tori walks up to Shel, " where do you think they all went,i mean there should at least be bugs" she says. Tori moves her dark blue hair from her face. Tori takes out the bow she packed and an arrow, ' if i can find a bird anywhere even if it's little then i food can be made and we can set up camp' she thought to herself as she looked at the sky.
Nothing, nothing at all no birds, bugs or anything. Tori walks around trying to find water maybe there are fish there. " anyone see a pond or something?" she asks out loud. She looks at Shel to see what he is doing. 'hmm' she thinks to herself.

[Assistant]
It was dark for a time as the man in the crate slept, the constant cheers of the crowd around this group of intrepid adventures and explorers were only screams melded with fire in the man's mind. What this man saw in his dreams was beautiful at first. Dancing in a meadow, only him and a girl, she was short with fox like brown and red ears and tail, long soft blond hair flowed over her shoulders, deep caring blue eyes pierced his very soul, and the smile she had could warm any man's cold heart. He reached for her grasping toward her beckoning Kind hand, yet his touch turned her to ash and the meadow was swept up with fire until it was all he could see.

 Suddenly he stood in the center of a burning village, a familiar village, his village. Blood dripped off him and his ax, bodies strewn around him, all with familiar faces and a look of either horror or bewilderment frozen on the corpses, how could this man, their friend, do this? Then swirling through the smoke another man stood his figure imposing over the village like a giant. This man wore a black robe and a cracked red mask that allowed a broken smile to be shown through as he looked at this murderer before him and knew in that instant there was no one left for that man to turn to, to run to, he was in control.

 The rocking of the cart woke him first and it took him a moment to take in his surroundings, the iron restraints were still on his arms, they allowed limited movement but were loud. The crate he was in was cramped and had items in it that read, at least what he could see, were seeds of some kind. Slowly he attempted to lift the lid, two hinges on one side and a small lock on the other, simple pine wood and iron rivets used in its construction. The sound of voices from outside the wagon made him freeze for a moment, casually he looked through some slits in the wood. Someone was driving the cart and the sky looked orange, "Dusk" he whispered to himself before giving himself a mental situation report and a plan.

 First off he needed to get out of this crate but doing so will shift the rest of the load that is resting on top of said crate, then what? "Remember that time we got caught in the forest?" a deep dark voice echoed through his mind, "why hello to you too Argor" he whispered quietly. "Child, that time in the forest, break the lock or the crate then jump and roll out the back in one move. Then run and don't look back." The voice was a bit condescending but he had a plan, whatever guards were out there probably thought he was going to be out for a lot longer and were not going to expect him to be awake.

 So he slowly wrapped his head in what manner he could to cover himself then waited and positioned himself to strike the lock and hinge that kept him in, after a few deep breaths to mentally prepare himself he began his escape. With a loud crack his fist splintered the wood and he pushed the crate open shifting the supply's in the cart, in two steps he was at the back of the cart and with another lunge and a roll he was ready to start sprinting off. But he hesitated he knelt there on the ground his hands feeling the earth beneath him and slowly he stood looking at the earth slipping through his hands. "I don't feel him" he whispered, "neither do i, the presence… its gone" Argor seemed confused. "We are free? WE ARE FREE!" he shouted as he looked to the sky and slowly looked around, "now, where the hell am I?"


[System]
Gender : Female

Age : 21

Appearance : Brenna stands at about 5 feet 9 inches, with pale skin. Long, sleek black hair that is sometimes in a mess. Her eyes are a teal like color, but tend to look out of focus or looking off into space. Average body type.

Rank : PFC

Class : Shock trooper

Weapons and Equipment : MAGS M10, B Type M1 Grenade

Personality : A hermit by nature. she tends to lock herself away from social interactions, only socializing if unable to retreat from it or if she's with a friend. Even when socializing, she tends to keep her sentences short and to the point, which leads to her other personality point. She's blunt, sometimes harshly blunt, she doesn't want to beat around the bush or waste time, this could be seen as a good point in combat, but considered cold and heartless when she does actually socialize.

But Brenna is also an intellectual person, usually found reading, writing, or drawing. She may also Daydream, which normally consist of sitting in peaceful plains while listening to the natural sounds of the world.

Bio : Brenna was orphaned when she was only five years of age, for reasons unknown. She was taken up by a woman who raised her, and once Brenna was ten, the woman told her she was an orphan and that she took her in so she would be able to live out a normal life. She then spent most of her time reading and drawing, completed her schooling and moved back to the border town she was raised in and lived on it's outskirts, doing her best to keep social interaction to a minimum while still having access to a job and a source to buy daily needs such as food. But she always felt inadequate, why would her biological parents orphan her? So she vowed to find them so she could ask them that question.

Brenna avoided jobs that required social interaction on a daily basis, and took up a job as a baker for a bakery. And used the money she made to buy ingredients for cooking. She constantly tells herself that her cooking is sub par, even when some of the locals have said otherwise. She loved the peaceful way of life she had established for herself, and hoped to never lose it, but with the murmurs of war approaching she felt that it would be lost fairly soon. But she was prepared to defend it to the best of her abilities.

RP Sample : A normal day. A very beautiful one. Brenna looked up at the sky as she was returning home, few clouds in the sky. It was scenic, she hoped it would stay like this till she got home so she could sketch it. Her eyes returned to the pathway, a rod of bread in her vision, and the smell of ingredients filling her nose. Apparently the townsfolk loved her cooking, but she felt they were only saying that because she lived alone and felt some sympathy. "Sympathy" she spoke, trying to get a feel for the words on her lips. 'It's wasted to feel sympathy towards me, there's nothing to feel sympathetic towards. I'm not ill, I'm not made fun of, nor am I physically disabled....Oh well'

After a few more minutes of walking, she arrived at her house and turned around to look at the sky. A small smile crept on her face. The sky still looked the way it did. 'Thank you sky.' she thought to herself. Then turned to walk inside when she heard a light crunch beneath her foot. Stepping back, she saw flowers with a small note. 'What?' She quickly stepped over it and put the bag of groceries on a table before going back to the front door to pick up the flowers and the note. But decided she'd read the note once she had dinner cooking. But something prevented her from starting to cook dinner, and instead read the note. Which turned out to be a note from a secret admirer, but sadly, she'd never be able to write the person back because there was no return address. 'Probably an honest mistake when writing this...but...why would anyone want to be with me?' She thought to herself, then went on to cooking dinner and writing a return letter should she ever find this person. The next few nights were sleepless until she accepted the fact that the person might have evacuated the town with the impending war.

[User]
Lilly observed Sergeant Harald as he mapped out their plan. Her nervousness was somewhat present, despite her attempts to will it away. She took solace in the fact that her sergeant seemed surprisingly competent... for a Darcsen that was. She shivered involuntarily when they were told that Brenna and herself were going to split off and try to assassinate someone. They were going to be split away from their squad and without support, while trying to kill an enemy commander. Lilly did not like this plan one bit. She wasn't experienced in combat. She froze up when the bullets started flying last time. She would be useless. Her partner might die relying on her, when she could not back her up. ... But this was the duty that had been handed to her, and it was her job to do it as well as she possibly could. She spoke up in a shaky voice "Y-yes, sir. I understand, sir."

Before the nervousness coming back could immobilize her, she nodded to her antisocial partner, before slowly opening the back door to the house they were in, and creeping out into the back alley. Clutching her rifle in shaking hands, she surveyed the area before waving for Brenna to follow. The street was eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of gunshots or explosions coming from far behind them. As they crept up the side of the street, darting from alley to door frame to alley, Lilly mumbled something as her partner took a position beside her. "... Sorry if I'm useless, but I will try my best." Before she could hear Brenna's reply (if she replied at all, that was), she darted to the other side of the street, following the path that the Sergeant had laid out for them. Alley, Street, Roof, Street, Lilly kept shifting her eyes in a similar manner to what she had been doing before, hoping to spot any enemies before they spotted her. This was insane. She was not suited for this. ...But it was her duty, and she would see it through. She spearheaded the journey as she and Brenna crept through the town. At least this way, if she did seize up, her body would serve as a warning for her more competent partner behind her. That was all she was guaranteed to be able to do.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at one of the larger, main roads that they needed to cross. During the journey, the lack of soldiers they encountered calmed Lilly's nerves somewhat, but they were getting closer to where the commander would probably be. There would probably be enemies nearby, guarding him, so they needed to be extra careful. Creeping to the edge of the alley, Lilly crouched by the entrance and peered around the corner. It was quiet in this street too, with no enemies to be seen. She was hesitant to dart across it, however. The street was large and exposed, and she had a feeling that anyone she had not spotted could make short work of her, should they notice her during her crossing. Paying extra attention to the buildings, Lilly made note of their surroundings. "... empty ... empty... wait.. empty..." Sure enough, all the buildings she looked at seemed to be deserted. This calmed her. It seemed to be safe, and she stopped trembling as much. She was just about to wave the all clear, when she noticed a glint in one of the upper story windows of a house. That was odd. It looked like a piece of metal had shifted there slightly. A piece of metal? What could have caused that to mov-A RIFLE! Lilly came tumbling to that realization not a millisecond too soon, a sniper bullet slamming into the wood frame of the wall opposite to her, as she frantically pulled herself back from the edge to narrowly dodge the deadly projectile. Falling flat on her rear and nearly soiling her self from the shock of her near death experience, she clutched her rifle in shaking hands. Looking up at her partner, she voiced what they both already knew. "S-s-sniper."

[Assistant]
It was with mixed feeling of hope and guilt that Harald sent the two girls off on their mission. Of the part of his squad still with him, they had adapted best to actual combat; he had to take it as an article of faith that they would meet them at the rendezvous point. After they had filed out and down the street, the Sergeant waited at the shop entrance for a minute to put some distance between the two groups, before waving his remaining two soldiers out. They were clearly nervous and unarmed too; the squad would have to stop at the armoury before risking a move northward. As they slunk down the road, Harald opened up communications with Krauss and Varrot once more. **'You guys still there? Another change of plans, we're running out of time. Head northward ASAP and begin scouting for a motorpool. The Imperials have probably left a few trucks or APCs out there and we need transport. Procure if possible and camp out somewhere in the bocage, otherwise meet us at the grain silo. We'll be there in thirty, Harald out.'** Static interference obscured any response they may have given, so Valk knew if they had received the message or if they were even still... Thrusting the thought from his mind, Harald set himself on the task at hand; arming his squad and getting the hell out of Rinneheim.

The trip across town hadn't been easy on the Captain. Two minor gunshot wounds, a bayonet to the thigh and carrying Bons for over an hour had taken a toll on him. At nearly sixty, he decided, Tarquin was getting a bit old for this shit. **'Corporal are we... nearly there? This is near the edge of the city bu...'** His voice trailed off as the two militiamen froze and took to cover; whatever they had spotted was enough to spook them. A tank perhaps? Finding himself with an unpleasant feeling of uselessness, the Captain relieved Bons of his sidearm and bayonet. If push came to shove, Meulemann could take a few Imperial soldiers with him. The Corporal had gone prone, sighting down his rifle with the Private feeding him information. An enemy sniper by the sounds of it, covering the route across the road yet out of line of sight... a problem then. The four of them waited for several long minutes, with Krauss unwilling to let the sniper go and unsure of their own safety if they dared cross over.

In the end, Meulemann took it upon himself to deal with the threat. Propping the still unconscious Bons up against a wall, he quietly took his leave of the two militiamen, who were still engrossed in watching the sniper's movements. A five minute detour later and the old man was on the other side of the street, working his way slowly toward the offending building. Suddenly a gunshot rung out above. _Damnation, a second one..._ Lucky that he had taken this chance; had they tried to cross the street without taking out both snipers they would have been cut to ribbons. Nevertheless this was a prime opportunity to show the young ones how to punish the foe. It didn't take long to infiltrate the building as he picked the lock with his appropriated bayonet. The fools hadn't even posted a lookout on the ground floor; if this had been _his_ unit, then heads would have rolled. He crept upstairs, taking his time to locate the sniper by the sound of his breathing and the odour of dry sweat. Wishing he could sigh, Meulemann drew himself up as he took long, slow steps toward his prey; the poor boy was clearly a rank amateur, probably a conscript. His situational awareness was lax, his self-discipline ragged... Tarquin almost pitied the lad as he pulled him into a choke hold and opened his throat with the bayonet. Once the body had stopped convulsing he took the time to loot it clean before setting up his newly acquired rifle on the other windowsill, sighting directly on the other sniper's unknowing head. He pulled the trigger.

[User]
The plan was simple enough, find and eliminate the guy in charge. Too bad that they had hit a snag. A sniper, and probably not the only one, but they needed to complete their task. She looked to Lilly, then back out at the street they'd need to cross soon. The sniper had missed the girl, but the round still flew close enough to her that it made her fall flat on her ass. So the assumption could be made that he or she was a rookie.

Letting out a small sigh, she turned her attention back to Lilly. "We need to dash across. Don't stop moving" Once she said that, she stared at Lilly for a few more seconds, then got into position to move. "That's the only one we know of. There could be more. Keep moving until we're on the other side." She reminded her.

After a minute or two, Brenna put her hand up, all fingers splayed, then one by one, a finger curled in. She was counting down using her hand. Once her hand was clenched, she threw it forward then began running across. Once she was in the middle of the street, a round landed near her feet, and another one nicked the back of her neck. _Lucky bastard._ But she finally made it across. She turned around to see if her partner had made it across as well.


[System]
Military codename: TBD

Gender:Male

Age: 16

Appearance: Jet black hair, dull red eyes, 6' 0'', evidently physically fit, noticeably tanned skin

Personality: Quiet and reserved, even guarded at times. Consistently has a sense of competency about him. Holds himself to high standards.

Biography: Product of the well regarded late Centuria family, a clan that contained a rich history of excellent and humble warriors participating heavily in most of history's known wars. Incredibly influential and extensively rich, after each war they would return to work the land as farmers and landowners. This lull in history for generations allowed for them to be caught off guard, and being rural at the outermost edge of the kingdom's green belts they were among the first of many valued targets utterly destroyed by the demon hordes.

 The family's villa burned to the ground, and all but John was known to have survived. Desperate and broken he took to the farm's closest defensive measure available, the lightweight and dexterous CX-66. Knowing that he was in no condition to fight, John salvaged what he could from his home and hastily retreated.

The stalemate achieved later, the villa's property was reclaimed and remained dangerously close to the ever changing frontlines. John contacted some close aquaintances of his family name and contracted with the military, as many other wealthy families were doing, allowing him to receive any recovered items from the wreckage and promising a generous donation of funds to the state, provided they were used to military purposes.

A small bundle of many inheritance letters later, as well as a small fortune magically sealed in the pantry for emergencies, MCI opened enrollment. Relieved to find something else to do with his time other than live rich in the cities, he paid his tuition and set up avenues for his continual procedings with the military contracting while attending there.

Military Job: Pilot

Magic: Nothing beyond elbow grease and sheer dumb luck.

Spirit Name: Lone Wolf

Spirit Appearance: A Grey Wolf, size and age are dependent on John's attitude.

Spirit Power: Increases reaction time, overall speed, and damage potential of Johnathan and his MECH. May possibly cause recklessness in the user.

Spirit Origin: Lone Wolf is one of the many spirits that have, for lack of a better term, stuck to the Centuria bloodline. The Lone Wolf in particular was considered unfavorable amongst fellow members, often thought to symbolize unwillingness or ineptitude in team working endeavors that were considered essential for modern warfare.

Mech: CX-66 "Stryd"

Extra: Steel Salvation, or Steal Salvation. Steel Salivation, or Steal Salivation ... ew.

Name: CX-66 "Stryd"

Classification: Epée

Weapons: One handed longsword sheathed along the back of the MECH, the hilt poised over and behind its right shoulder.
 One shortbow capable of launching with enough force to damage enemy MECHs in proportion to their fleshier counterparts, compacted into a
 small package on the rear hips of the MECH. The arrows located in a shaft stored inside the right thigh of the MECH which opens outward
 into a quiver.

 "...If you ARE engaged, do not be HIT..."

 The entire left arm of the CX-66 is a Varied Tactical Interface (VTI). This contains multiple forms of countermeasures,
 smokescreens and devices capable of changing the dynamic of a battle - if used correctly.
 Such as: colored smoke, IR smoke, IR flares, ECM jammers, APS, stationary PD systems, etc.

Upgrades: N/A

History: The CX-66 "Stryd" was a quick moving farmhand MECH commissioned and produced solely by and for the Centuria. In order to keep balance while moving at full speed in peacetime, whilst carrying an undetermined load, the CX-66 "Stryd" could "merge" the mass of a package of up to 1000 lbs into the composite plating surrounding its core without changing the actual weight of the machine, a process delicate enough, even through magic, to require a physical pattern holder to retrieve the package in its original state.

[User]
John's head spun the moment the Commander mentioned clean slates. The mobile communicator in his right pocket had been vibrating almost non-stop since the word 'histories'. He simply ignored it and continued listening to the Commander's brief yet useful address.

He sighed internally as Erikal walked off, and turned carefully to the nearest isle in an attempt to leave when his efforts were stopped short by a young woman hardly 5 years senior to him, talking apparently to no one in particular, remained in his way. After painfully extracting himself from behind her slow pace he positioned himself near the corner of his own MECH's hangar, where he still had full view of the courtyard and vice-versa, and relieved himself of the communicator that was burning a hole in his pocket. I attached the device to his ear, guarded mic extending to his mouth, and spoke simply,"Go."

[Assistant]
Have some fun.

Yes.

Fun.

That oldest, most abstract of concepts, fun, which could be had in spades without regret until the moment that 8:45 AM rolled around and you were still drooling into some foreign pillow with a clock-shaped hole in your episodic memory. Sixteen hours until they began the first morning of the rest of their lives - until they began an unprecedented training course for the usage of spirits and MECHs against a demonic horde bent on human extinction, but sure. There was always time to turn up.

Or, as so many other students were doing, turning around to go and make moon eyes over each others MECHs. Cry Havoc needed no such adoration; she simply got the job done, and Jericho with it. He would have loved nothing more than to seek out his dorm, or perhaps a good library, perhaps one with information on Seal Judgment. Almost as he was halfway through the idea, the right hand he was keeping shoved in the pocket of his black jeans began to chill slightly, as though dipped in a basin of water. When he withdrew it, a thin black layer of soft metal had coalesced over it, more like leather than an actual piece of armor.

"Good boy," Jericho said wryly.

The gauntlet tightened reflexively; he felt a tiny sting against a bone in his wrist as a small spike came to life, extended into his flesh, and then drew back into the inner surface of Judgment so quickly that he wasn't even sure blood was flowing from the pinprick. Piper rolled his eyes, both at his spirit and at the situation.

He would have loved to buck a good trend right now and paddle opposite the flow of shit's creek, towards a library instead of the hangar. Unfortunately, he had left his treatise on the kingdom's artifacts with his bag. His bag...which was currently nestled snugly near Cry Havoc's ankle.

Blugh.

"Following the herd after all, Judgment," Jericho muttered under his breath, putting the hand back in his pocket save for a thumb, which he cocked on the outside of his pocket as he began the walk to the hangar. "Unless there's something in my treatise you'd like to break the news on ahead of time."

There was no prick this time...well, not unless you counted the spirit as a whole.

But that was something Jericho had learned not to hold against it.

Grab the treatise.

The hair on Jericho's right arm stiffened, as it always did when he felt the familiar ideas from nowhere creep from the back of his head.

Head to the library.

...

"Perhaps not such a bad idea."

[User]
She had to admit, the building was impressive. In her mercenary days, her 2S3 artillery piece was as much her tool as it was home. With the necessity to be on the move at all times, the merc band operated out of a mobile command center and their respective vehicles. And now, indoors arena. Enough said. She just hoped the military food has gotten better since her cadet days. Her thoughts were broken off when the commander started his speech.

What? No shiny until tomorrow? No no no no no, must have. Give now! Kat thought as the assembly started to disintegrate into what seemed like a bunch of gloomy introverted individuals, not one saying as much as a hello to someone else. Compared to the semi-drunken friendly atmosphere of the mercenary company, she felt the military would be boring. Which would be perfectly acceptable since she would have brand new prototype gadgets to work with, except - she didn't.

Following after the commander, she twisted out of the way of some lower level brass walking against her with a quick salute - bah, she almost forgot how to do that - and caught up with him: "Umm, sir, if I may? I'd like to get familiar with the government-issue right away. I'm being given one of the 2nd gen prototypes?" she said, just in case he had too much on his plate to remember. She didn't yet have as much as a glimpse on blueprints, and she didn't like the idea of just being jammed into the seat and sent out without going over every square millimeter of it to make sure something won't break down in the first minute.

[Assistant]
"The fuck do these goddamn KAD engineers think they're-"

CLANG.

The offending piece of metal, officially referred to as a "power conservation device", was designed to cut down on the use of power when the magic reactor hit a designated low power state. It was also installed by some idiotic white collar elite who didn't know that any mechanic worth their salt would have ripped it out, not installed it behind the pilot's back to fit arbitrary-

Deep breaths. Didn't matter, it was already over there, shattered on the hangar floor. Where it belonged.

The small-town mechanic herself had barely pulled her head out of the repair hatch when she threw it away, and she was elbow deep in the Titan's mechanisms again. Mostly making sure the inspecting engineer hadn't changed anything else when she wasn't looking. She hated when people messed with her specs. She had everything tuned exactly her way for her own maximum performance, whether it was 'proper' or not.

...

You know, the part didn't hit anyone, but it might've been close. Maybe don't throw things in the big government hangar.

[User]
CLANG

John cursed silently and ducked back through the entryway. Never enter a room with females in it without knocking first! The actual hell as he thinking!

He took a deep breath and knocked first this time, stepping halfway around the corner and then fully to find-

Evangeline Starr

the one Harv called him about. Smug bastard must've read John's public class manife- but that wasn't important.

John approached Evan, who was still elbow deep in a MECH, glancing at the broken hardware previously thrown in his general direction.

[Assistant]
"If you're going to stand there, hand me the torque wrench on the barrel." Evangeline didn't actually look away from her work, but after a few minutes, she did hold out a hand to accept the wrench. The other was busy checking for breaches in the sheathing for the primary power cables, after removing the invasive regulation device. It was fortunate the Titan was off and staying that way, because the results otherwise wouldn't be pretty. Lots of sparks. Lots of fires. Very, very singed mechanic. Not fun times. "C'mon, make yourself useful."

"Unless you want me to divide my attention, then we can take our chances the next time I fire her up."

[User]
John allowed himself a smile at that last comment and reached up, handing her the torque wrench. He was admittedly no mechanic or otherwise, but he could find his way around any standard workshop just fine. He continued to say nothing, allowing Evan to continue her evidently passionate work while examining her MECH himself.

Titan, of course, looked nothing like the CX-66. John mentally chided himself for allowing himself to truly believe that it might. CX-66 was, after all, unique, its only sister suit... damn.

In any case, the Starr family name was not one to be ignored in these times. Any viable skilled engineers were not to be ignored in these times.

In fact, any viable engineers were to be encouraged by any means necessary.

John's eyes found the MECH's longsword and carbine in that order. Titan's firepower was respectable, but CX-66 certainly had a far superior edge in mobility... at least with weapons stowed.

[Assistant]
"So." The mechanic tightened up the conduits running through where the excised machinery had been, sealing up the power flow's route as far as she could tell. Have to do some voltage testing to make sure, but it should be fine. Which meant taking a break to deal with whoever it was who decided to visit, then finish her inspection.

"What can I do for you?"

[User]
"Pardon my interruption, Ms. Starr," John began, attention settling back on the mechanic," I am Johnathan Centuria, sole heir to the Centuria household. For business' sake I shall keep this to the point," he dug his communicator from his pocket and pulled up a display on the screen," Are you familiar with this... apparatus?"

The display presented less like a screen and more like a raised platform hovering an inch above a lense in the communicator. It was a very complex schematic outlining the second most important part of the CX-66, the pattern buffer stationed below the core. The mathematics alone had taken weeks for John himself to compute, leading to the few advancements he is on the machine. Other than the physical nuts and bolts, this device was far beyond him and even some graduated engineers. He had dedicated much of his personal resources to his efforts, and revealed an interesting piece in the actual hard copy of the scheme-

'M. Starr'

A signature in quaint cursive dwarfed by the most undeniably complex equation on the paper, so dwarfed, in fact, that the computer scanning the document mistook it for part of the equation.

John had the equations he had yet to figure, and the signature, highlighted or otherwise. He handed the display to Evan.


[System]
Photo:
 Age: 19
 Gender: Female
 Abilities: Shadow Magic. Although she doesn't have super strength or anything her intense training would make you think that.
How you could work in a team: Everything. Doing Everything.
Personality: Elza is the hardest working person you've ever seen. She sees lying as pointless and cowardly and respects anyone who can prove thier strength. She is an excellent cook but is rather ashamed of this fact. Once a friend always a friend, however despite her outwardly friendly personalilty she can be rather slow to trust.
 Other: Loves to eat meat, it scared of insects, has a pet mouse

[User]
Marcus sat in the desk of his office. His blondish brown hair tied up into a pony tail. He was finishing up his daily duties as the schools comsuler before he headed off to lunch. Marcus appearance hasn't changed much, he still looks the same but now has a blondish brown goatee. He stands up yawning and scratching his chest. Yes, he was shirtless doing school work. This was mainly one of the reasons why he tells the students and staff to knock before entering his room.

He walks to a coat rack and takes a white shirt off a hanger and dresses himself. His clothes weren't as beat up as they used to be doing the first semester. Back then he got into a lot of pointless fights. He hasn't gotten into a fight in awhile though. It wasn't because of his repetitive losing streak. It was because he needed time to fully control his negative chi manipulation. He did master it around the ending of the first semester and would accept what ever challenge came his way to see how his practice paid off.

Marcus exited his room locking the door behind him. The passing by students smiled as the passed him or waved in his direction. Marcus actually liked being the consulor. He got to meet countless numbers of people with strange and interesting personalities. He also liked how sometimes he would deal with relationship problems between the students. Marcus was deep in his thoughts as he walked towards the entrance of the lunch room. He entered and walked directly towards the line fixing himself a healthy meal of chicken salad and orange juice. He sat down at a random table and ate his food quietly.

[Assistant] Deus scratched his head. He then looked at his palm, it had a transmutation symbol on it. He was thinking on a possibility, but it was farfetched and he didn't like it. "It must have probably been from the fight, it was pretty huge. Can I check something quickly, just to see what's wrong with your powers?" Deus stood up, as his hand began to radiate a silver aura. He cracked his neck to the side.

[User] Ryan looked up from his book and frowned. "I do hope you aren't planning on doing anything dangerous. If you were, it would fall under my jurisdiction as a Council Member to stop that." He called out to them. He really didn't feel like demolishing anyone today. He would though if he had to.

[Assistant] Slick turned to Ryan. "Please don't use threats. He's trying to help someone out, I understand it's your job, but believe me, you'd do the same."

[User]
Sol finished off the last of his pancakes and lounged around bored watching Dues and Slick with mild interest. So far the year hadn't been too exciting; he hadn't even gotten to participate in the team battle at the start of the year. At this point he was almost out of practice with how little actual combat he had done.

---
Elza groaned and walked into the cafeteria dragging her feet like a zombie. She walked straight to the drink table and grabbed a cub of black coffee before sitting down and slowing sipping it down a languid expression on her face. Elza hated mornings.

[Assistant]
Deus ignored Ryan's remark and looked at Slick who had answered his question. "Alright, So I'm going to Implant some of my Aura into you and attempt to see what is wrong, you might feel a little excruciating pain." Deus looked at Slick, trying to find a small opening in his Aura, and when he found it he quickly began to insert his Aura into him. What this would do is that it would attempt to heal his Powers. Deus guessed that his powers had Imploded like that because of the opposing forces of the team battle, these powers were so strong, no wonder eyes couldn't keep up with them.

"Ouch! There seems that something is wrong with your powers, Like a blockage or something of some kind. That's all I can tell you for now Slick, Sorry If I wasn't much help." Deus said as he sat back down sighing. He was tired, so it would be easy to do anything to him right now anyways.

[User] Ryan ignored both of them and looked at the ceiling. "All I'm saying is if I hear explosions I'm going to kick someone's ass." He went back to his book and eating.

[Assistant]
Cruz Meister, Pamela Armellia and Lynda "Lyn" Hermit
Location: Cafeteria

The trio entered the cafeteria. Pamela was hugging Cruz's arm tightly while walking with a big smile and don't even knowing the faces that both made. "Ugh... I've slept for a long time. I didn't thought that emergency codes were that exhausting...", he spoke. "I was like, really worried, you know! I mean, what if you didn't woke up?!", Pamela said. "... Let's just get our lunches. We're late, you know.", Lyn said, leaving to see what was today's food.

Then, the two walked towards everyone and sat. "Hey... so, what did I lost?", he asked.

[User] "Nothing too special. Also Ms. Armellia, please let go of Mr Meister's arm, otherwise I will have to write both of you up for public displays of affection." Ryan looked up from his book at the both of them. "If you're going to have some fun, keep it in the bedroom." He grinned slightly with those words hoping to embarrass them. "Or don't. I would have to write you up for a boy being in girl dormitories or girl being in boy dormitories if you did that." He looked very thoughtful at that statement. "You know what. Just... make sure to be safe. Yeah, that's pretty all encompassing." He began to ramble to himself abound t various rules and regulations.

[Assistant]
Cruz Meister, Pamela Armellia and Lynda "Lyn" Hermit
Location: Cafeteria

"A-A-A-Ahh!! Y-Y-You perv!! J-Just because you're from the student council d-d-doesn't mean you have to say such... s-such indecent, perverted things!!", Pamela screamed getting red, like a tomato. "Dude, I understand about harassing someone, but that was way too much.", she said. "... Wait a minute. I didn't got it. What do you exactly mean by public affection? And what this about bedrooms?"

The two girls couldn't do anything other than looking with faces of awe. And on a negative sense. "Don't tell me... a technomagician, supposed to know everything, is so clueless about love?", Lyn asked. "It's not like I don't understand what love is, I just... Wait, no, I really don't understand anything about love. I've read it about it, but...", he said. Lyn just slapped her own face in disappointment, but at the same time she laughed a little. After all, Ryan's trick to get both embarassed didn't work. Or rather, it worked halfway. Pamela sighed a little. He didn't got embarassed, but she knew she had to let go of his arm. And Cruz... let's just say he left to the food stand, wondering about what Ryan said, seeing himself as a completely clueless and innocent children.

"After this, I don't think anything worse can happen.", she commented while sitting. "C-Could you please leave your abusiveness away whenever I'm walking with Cruz, please?", she said, on a serious tone. "Says the girl that is abusing of how clueless he is to walk around making it look that you two are dating... when you aren't. Would it hurt for you to stop those rumors? People keep asking me about them and it's giving me a headache.", Lyn commented. Pamela simply looked away angry.

[User] Ryan smiled. "In all seriousness though, how is Mr Meister? He's been in a coma since the battle which is quite worrying. There is a chance his muscles have atrophied. Actually it should be a certainty that has happened. Yet he's walking perfectly fine as of now." Ryan had a semi confused look on his face. "And do forgive me for the embarrassing comments. It's not very often I get to have fun like that."

[Assistant]
Cruz Meister, Pamela Armellia and Lynda "Lyn" Hermit
Location: Cafeteria

BGM: Sacred Moon

"Well, to be honest... even though he is walking well, we aren't that so sure... He did a quick analysis on his body and magical state and everything seemed normal.", Pamela said, with a worried face. Lyn looked down. She hadn't start eating her pancakes. "That... magic he used to rebuild the town. Do any of you have any plausible idea of what that was? I mean, to make a destroyed town back to normal in just a second...", Lyn commented. Pamela started to think a little about it.

Then, Cruz came to them and sat down. But after he put his plate on the table, his right arm flickered, like an image being shown on a TV that's almost breaking up. He felt a moderate pain. "Cruz, are you alright?!", Pamela was the first to ask. "D-Don't worry about it. It... was absolutely nothing.", he said, holding the arm. But the said arm flickered once more. "Alright, that's it. I'll take you to your room.", Lyn said, getting up. "I... I said it's fine! You don't have to worry about me!", he said. "No discussion. If whatever happening at your arm looks painful, what if it happens at your legs too?", she asked, still with a serious face. Cruz looked down to the ground and stood quiet. He was nervous to admit, but just because he woke up didn't mean he was ready.

[User] Ryan closed his book and stood up. "Mr Meister, I'm asking you, face to face, whether you are injured. If you do not comply in answering I will have to write you up for lying to a Council Member. The punishment for such an action is left up to the Council Member who is lied to, and I will not be kind in my punishment. Now speak." Ryan commanded in a very no nonsense tone. "Also, if you survive my punishment, I'm passing you off to Meruin for punishment." He added as an afterthought.

[Assistant]
Cruz Meister, Pamela Armellia and Lynda "Lyn" Hermit
Location: Cafeteria

"... My magic system...", he mumbled. "Cruz...?", Pamela asked again.

"I...I'll just confess. That code... Reality/RESET... it damaged my magic system.", he said. Lyn just let her fork fall down on the ground. "You're... saying that the magic you used was able to damage your entire system?!", she asked. "It's an emergencial code. Its meaning is to restore my homeland. It's only usable by the... by certain technomagicians. It restores everything that has been destroyed into its original state. However, that damages the user's entire magic system.", he explained. Both Lynda and Pamela just looked at him, shocked after hearing all of that. "My state of coma... was supposed to be longer. I would have to be sleeping for a week, for it to recover fully. However... since I broke the estimated time, and if I calculate it rightly, I only recovered 40% of my system. And even if it's big, it's not enough.", he kept explaining.

"So in the end... you did a fake analysis and lied to us. Now it begs the question... why?", Lyn questioned. "... I... just never wanted anyone worried about me. I agreed with myself that, independent of my actions so far, I would let fate decide for how long my life should be. And I don't want anyone worrying about some so- ARGH!!", Cruz's arm flickered once more. "I... I-I think it's best if we returned you to your room and put you on your bed. Maybe a little more rest can make things better.", Pamela suggested. It was written on her face that she was seriously cncerned. But Cuz was reluctant to that idea. "Gghh... there's... no need to... I can't rest anymore... not with much things that I still have to do.", his face expressed pain, although he didn't wanted to rest again... because of his kingdom.

"... Ryan, your orders.", Lyn asked to him. She directly knew that talking with Cru is a waste of time, deciding to go to an authority and leaving her way of doing things aside.

[User] Ryan thought carefully on how he would word this. "You are to rest until your systems are 75 percent repaired. At that point you may continue whatever it is you need to do unless I or another Council Member says otherwise. No strenuous activity for the next one to two weeks." Ryan decided after a minute. He then turned to Lyn and Pamela. "And you two. I am officially making you two my deputies. As such, you are a part of the Student Disciplinary Committee and will take your responsibilities very seriously. Your first duty is to make sure that he does not disregard my orders. I expect you two to thoroughly read through the rules and regulations of the school. Dismissed." Ryan got up after he made his decisions, picked up his book, and vanished in a gust of wind. There was work to be done. In his place were two heavy rulebooks.

[Assistant]
Meruin suddenly appeared next to Cruz. She did not go to him; she just wanted to get to the cafeteria quicker. The small mage yawned and blinked before turning to Ryan.

"Oh, good morning, Ryan, and to you too, mister Cruz, miss Lint and miss Potato," she said. Meruin meant no disrespect, even if her dull voice said otherwise; she had simply not interacted with Lyn and Pamela much, so she hadn't yet committed their names to memory. She frowned upon double checking Cruz. "And what is the matter here?"

It should also be noted that this time, Meruin was wearing clothes - or a clothe, to be specific. The only article of clothing she had on was her panties, yes, but it still counted as wearing clothes. "Oh, and there goes Ryan," said Meruin, slightly surprised that he left so quickly.

[User] Elza sighed, every gosh dang day Meruin couldn't be bothered to put some clothes on. You would think that a genius mage who could remember hundreds of spells would remember to put her clothes on in the morning. "Here are your clothes Meruin." Elza said yawning and handed her a bundle of clothes while enclosing her in shadows that concealed Meruin's body until she put her clothes on. It was nearly routine now; Elza gulped down another cup of coffee and went for more still barely awake.


[System]
15 | Male | 5'10, 1.78m | 234lbs, 106kg
The Song Central Empire | Egoism | Aquatic Adaptation
His Story
One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea.

Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to.

Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention.

Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically.

While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him.
His Formulizations
Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example.

The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization.
* Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary.
* Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed.
* Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested.
* Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger.

---

Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs
The 13th Sea

[User]
--British Invasion--

"...?" Suddenly for the second time that night, Lucretia was ambushed with absolutely no warning, first by shards of transparent glass and now by a strange white-haired Abya Yalan girl who spoke with a distinctly British accent. Lucy's green eyes blinked a few times, her protocol-directed mind taken unprepared, scrambling to make sense of the abrupt development of the situation, a situation that she abhorred to be in. Indeed, perhaps Shou's recommendation for her to improve her reaction time had merits after all...

However, right now, she had to do something. Her brows frowned and the corner of her right eye twitched in frustrated annoyance at the intruder's blatant disrespect of her plans. Right now, the offender's identity, appearance, ethnicity, bearings, and everything else didn't matter in the slightest to the Iron Princess, she could be the Empress of Britannia and it wouldn't erase the fact that she just committed the greatest sin, disrupting her plans. Those shards of glass weren't sentient, they had no motivations to speak of, merely following the whims of gravity, unlike this... this brown-skinned Arschgeige!

Lucy's pale lips quivered, her teeth gritting, then just as she was about to open her mouth to hurl some very demeaning authoritative words, Kalil managed to sidestep the trespasser and addressed her directly. The Indian prodigy could swear he heard Lucy sighing like a machine blowing off excess steam as the shorter paler white-haired girl took his dance invitation without a single fuss, genuinely not caring if it seemed rushed and walked with him to the dance floor. Finally, finally she could fulfill her promise and all was right again in the world.

@Click This

--A Home Away from Home--

Thus the ball ended and despite a few hiccups along the way, the event concluded satisfyingly for most students - save for a certain English polymath perhaps - including Lucretia as she closed the curtains via a dance with Kalil, amateurish it might be, she enjoyed it. Now, it was time to board the trams and retreat to their assigned dorms.

The one assigned to her was honestly just fine, a faux medieval castle implemented with all the amenities that the modern age could offer. It was a fine abode for someone of her stature, although Lucy wasn't exactly a snob in terms of demands, the fact that a noble's way of life was all that she knew meant it was her standard, something to be expected, but fortunately for any would-be hosts out there, anything less would simply mean it was an inferior lodging as far as Lucy was concerned, nothing more.

The petite silver-haired girl was indubitably dwarfed by the room's sheer scale, even if one would only consider half of it to belong to her, but she was used to such space, whether in the Konigsmahne's manor or her personal workshop. In fact, checking the studies was literally the first thing she did after entering the room, beelining there without delay, not even sparing her Russian roommate so much as a greeting. Twas' of utmost importance as she had specifically ordered for her WIP projects and associated materials to be delivered to her dorm's study. Hmmm... everything seemed to be in order, but there wasn't a way to be sure without opening these containers.

"Schwarzritter, aktiviere." She ordered for the drone to unfurl itself to its full size then began ordering it to move the crates around, unstacking them neatly so she could open them and examine its contents. Of course, whether Valeriya cared for such things or not, this task would leave Lucy quite occupied and the Engineer of War would find no ice-breaking conversations from her 'roommate', although the latter half of the word could be debated.

Landshark

[Assistant]
Valeriya Zhukova

Well, if nothing else, the end of the ball had been a splendid diversion. Valeriya was more than certain she'd cemented herself in the minds of more than a few boys and girls among her peers. Perfect if she ever required connections for one issue or another. Or if she just wanted a different bedmate for a night. Not that the two were separate, of course.

Her assigned quarters were...interesting, to say the least. Of all the possible options, a British-style castle wouldn't have been at the top of her list for a place to live. Still, she couldn't complain. It certainly beat her quarters back when she'd been in training at the Ministry.

Valeriya's roommate was even more of an unexpected occurrence. What were the odds that she'd be sharing her quarters with one of the more notable students of the lot? And an utter brick wall in social terms, at that? Still, like with the quarters itself, she supposed it could be worse. Lucretia didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak, so Valeriya supposed she'd have to be the one to start setting ground rules.

The Russian hadn't brought too much luggage with her. Well, most of her materials and prototypes were already shipped to Bermuda's armory. So all she really had to unpack were clothes and the tools of her trade. Once those were squared away, she decided it was high time to make some attempt at socializing with the German. At least she had a better handle on the girl's personality, now.

"Lucretia," Valeriya approached from across the room. "I thought it best if we establish some boundaries considering we'll be dorming together. I doubt we'll have many issues most of the time. I won't bother you, you won't bother me, though feel free to if you wish. At night, though..." She paused, thinking of how best to phrase this to a thirteen-year old before deciding to simply be blunt.

"Occasionally, I may invite other students into the dormitory and into my bed. Even with the partition, there may be some noise at night, and I apologize in advance should that disturb you. If it's too much, I'll make an effort to use the rooms of others instead. And I'll likely be doing so half the time regardless. That's all, really. Any objections?"

She paused, smirking as a thought struck her.

"Of course, you could always join in, if you were so inclined."

[User]
--The Rowdy Ruski--

When the ponytailed blonde entered one of the four studies of her spacious dorm, she'd find her roommate already kneeling in front of an opened crate, rummaging inside it, Schwarzritter floating near her in all of its T-shaped glory. "Hmmm?" Lucy paused what she's doing when she heard her name being called, the polymath stood up and faced her Russian counterpart. "Yes, Ms. Zhukova?" The silver-haired girl tilted her head a bit, wondering if there was something important enough to warrant interrupting her tidying up.

Oh, boundaries, regulations, ja, she wholeheartedly approved. It'd only be convenient for everyone involved if they had clear rules to follow, thus eliminating any ambiguity as to whether something was or wasn't allowed plus the consequences should a violation occurred. Valeriya had Lucy's full attention now. Don't bother one another unless necessary, no problems there, in fact, that should be a given in fact. "I agree." She nodded, so far so good there.

However, what came next confused the German prodigy a bit, at least Valeriya's wording made it so. If my deduction is correct... what Ms. Zhukova means is that she'll sometime invite students to this room, guests then? That sounded simple enough, half of the room was hers to do as she pleased anyway, but why did she have to specify about inviting them to her bed? Was it a Russian metaphor for socializing? Well, of course when two or more people are socializing, they'd be producing sounds, voices of conversations in addition to noises produced by whatever activity they'd be doing.

"Worry not," Lucretia replied, fully confident that she perfectly understood what Valeriya meant, "One, I can simply cover my ears with sound-absorbent material should the need arise, and two, I'll be working on some of my projects in the study, particularly those that are small enough to not require a dedicated workshop, they'll certainly produce sounds. With these context in mind, I think we'll have no issues." She concluded.

The petite girl would already be returning to her rummaging if not for Valeriya's final statement, in which its ironic tone completely flew over Lucy's head, "If it aligns with my interests, then I will participate." She then proceeded to nonchalantly return to kneeling down beside her crate, dainty fingers disappearing into the container.

Landshark

[Assistant]
Thankfully Shou had no need to rely on the tram to arrive at his assigned dormitory at the end of the party. As Hana had promised, the drug's effects hadn't lingered for longer than enjoyable. Thanks had been given for her company, apologies for ruining her conversation, and promises to be fulfilled at a later date. Even if his mind was all cleared up and he knew exactly which tram he was supposed to take, the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air wasn't something he would skip.

So while other students made themselves comfortable in the spacious and plush seats, Shou made himself a nuisance and climbed around like he had arboreal rather than aquatic features. The tour might have shown them the highlights Bermuda had to offer, but it was something else to get a bird's view of the man-made island. When he closed his eyes he could feel the ocean breeze against his skin and taste the salt-kissed air. It was almost enough for him to head down and take a swim, but the curfew was far too close for him to risk it.

So he made his way towards the accommodations he had been assigned when he received his papers down by the docks this morning. Careful leaps and jumps carried him from one chimney to another, or similarly reinforced parts of the rooftops. He'd crashed through enough ceilings before to learn about avoiding the more flimsy sections. Thus the sturdy construction of his accommodations came as a welcome surprise. The many small windows that adorned the building slightly less so. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could probably still slip his way out. A quick entry through one was probably right out though unless he planned on knocking out the entire window frame.

While Bermuda's trams might have been smooth and efficient, there was something to be said about simply ignoring the streets and pathways and cutting one's own path. Even with the pauses to sight see, Shou landed with a heavy thud in the street before the trams. And just because he had gone under the influence once tonight did not mean he had to pass on the opportunity for some less fruity drinks. His belongings were not particularly numerous nor did they need to be unpacked immediately for any reason. All he had to do was freshen up before he retired for tonight.

Thus when Kiran did arrive, he'd be met with Shou sitting in the tavern. Balancing his chair somewhat precariously as he munched away at a bratwurst while a mug of dark lager sat on the table before him.


[System]
Username: Eklispe
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Allegiance: Self
Weapon: Body, Flames, Blades.
Pokemon Species- Combusken
 Combusken
Ability- Speed Boost: Speed Boost raises the user's Speed stat by 50%, at the end of each turn in battle.
Moveset
-Mirror Move
-Flame Charge
-Protect
-Brick Break

Personality: Zaegar is a cold uncaring individual, he watches out for #1 over all else. At least that's what he tries to look like. He reality he has a soft spot for other homeless folks or orphans like himself. His tough attitude will fool anyway on first look but after a day or so the cracks in his facade become noticeable. Zaegar is tenacious to a fault and has a hard time letting go of something he's set his sights on. He can be a bit of a Kleptomaniac at times if he finds something that really grabs his attention.

Biography: Zaegar grew up on the streets of on of the many corruption filled cities that dotted the continent, a street waif with only one thing to his name, a strange colored stone on a necklace. He lived the way all the other street urchins did, by stealing. It was a hard life growing up and Zaegar became used to hardship. As he grew up he learned to control his Morphing powers and often used them to save himself from a pinch. Partially transforming made him stronger and gave him more speed that saved him from many a danger. Zaegar did whatever he had to in order to survive but as he grew older and his powers grew stronger and he began to change. Instead of solely stealing to feed himself he would often give food to younger kids. Soon he became a hero to the kids that lived on the streets and was given a bounty.

Quote: "Deal with it yourself, aw fine take this, but don't tell anyone alright kid? Can't let those stinking nobles hand you out to dry."

[User]
Nouvelle, Lugere --- Millicent Cheviot

Commotion on near the edge of town was drawing quite the crowd. There was a vicious fight at the Chanson tavern, which was one of the rougher places in town due to its proximity with an unrecognized circus group who sat outside Nouvelle. Generally poorer than other artisans of the city, their only entertainment and time off came from booze and hooches. It wasn't just this circus group, however, as many traveling performers came to Nouvelle for recognition and a shot at fame and wealth. But with this city, everyone knew that you start out on the edge of the town, performing for the circuses or taverns, working your way into the heart of the city. Every performers' goal was to eventually find themselves on Cheviot Hill, where only the most famous and expensive talent was located. On top of that, many starving artists and writers also tried to lay a claim to fame here. Like the performers, they started out at the edge of town, selling their work for minimal pay hoping someday that they achieve success.

The crowd gathered just outside the reach of debris that a crazed Ursaring caused. A few guards, armed with pikes and burly squad of Machoke, threatened anyone that came in for a closer look. A few men were arrested and pinned by the threat of death. The Ursaring that caused this was slain and lying dead just inside the tavern. The chaos that was within was quelled late the previous night and guarded up until now. They waited command from a superior on what to do with the detainees but they were in for a shock on who would give the order.

--

Millicent Cheviot had been up and about earlier this morning with a training regiment that Mel and herself did every morning. It helped them both stay fit and in fighting condition. On her way back she saw that a crowd had gathered and went to investigate. It wasn't just her as father insisted an escort follow her in town and despite Milly's nature, she was okay with that. The people in this town were always looking for recognition and the people on the edge of town were the most desperate. They would never stop pestering her, or worse like threatening her, for her to recognize their talents. The guard, which consisted of four armored swordsmen, two armored Gallade, and two armored Machamp, kept a lot of those pesky beggars away.

Milly approached and, like a disease, people noticed that a Cheviot was nearby and they swarmed in. The guards held firm and weren't afraid to shove anyone back. The people hollered and pleaded for Milly to read their work, watch their performance or buy their painting. Half probably didn't even know her name. "Get back you filthy lot! Lady Millicent wants nothing to do with you!" The lead guard shouted as he and the two Machamp pushed their way through the crowd, parting it. It wasn't always this bad and the closer you are to the center the better it is, but the loss of their precious tavern must have made them extra desperate.

Once Milly reached the tavern, the combined guard force formed a phalanx and blocked out the commoners. Mel just behind Milly as she entered the building. "Lady Millicent!" The commanding officer at the scene sounded shocked but hastily bowed and saluted. The two other guards, guarding the prisoners did the same. "At ease boys." Milly said with slight tone of boredom. "What's the deal here? What happened?" The guard stiffened and explained the story of the brawl and how the Urasing that was lying dead had rampaged and caused most of this destruction. The detainees, as he explained, were the most violate in the brawl.

After hearing the synopsis, Milly rubbed her forehead as she compiled all the data. She walked over to the largest man, likely a circus strong man and who reportedly was the instigator, and inquired about the brawl. "You started this and now you have to answer for it. Why?" She asked sternly. Despite the man's massive size, his voice wavered a bit as she spoke. "I-I wasn't the one who started it! Honest! Some punk bumped into me and sucker punched me! I swear!" Of course this guy would try to avoid blame and not face due process. Probably a bold-faced lie, seeing as how he didn't name anyone in arrested so the sucker puncher fled. Still, Milly was fair. "Very well. I'll take that into consideration. Give your description to the guard and if we find him, you'll be spared. If not, you get full blame. Until then, you wait in a cell. Five days is all I give you." The man wanted to protest more but Milly turned and addressed the guard. "Get the description and put a bounty on him. Five days and then execute whoever has full blame. Understood?" The guard stiffened again, "Understood, Lady Millicent!" Without further word, she left the tavern, having her guard force themselves through the crowd and back into the city.

Bahariya Oasis, Ayero --- Emile Varrot

The harsh desert wind picked up and buffeted the small community of Bahariya. The town was bustling this early in the morning as everyone was trying to beat the day's heat. But the heat was already creeping in and people were already ducking under the shade of umbrellas and awnings.

Emile Varrot, a man of Lugere, was not accustomed to the heat of the Rust Desert and underneath his Keffiyeh scarf, his head was moist with sweat. "Fuck the heat..." The man of twenty years of age said under his breath. "Fuck these sand snakes." He said in a harsh whisper as he navigated his way through the busy main street of Bahariya.

Emile didn't belong here but he sure played the part. He was covered from head-to-toe, hiding his pale skin from the sun, only a thin strip showed his piercing gray eyes studying every passerby. He effectively blended in and the only dead give away that he was from somewhere else was hidden in plain sight. Emile's shadow was dark and very profound, unlike every other shadow on this street. Something was stalking him but Emile knew what it was.

Darkrai crept along in Emile's shadow because he too, wanted to avoid the sun. He would only drift away from his master's side to stir any sleeping creature out of its dream with a great fright. The occasional yelp and squeal of mental agony delighted both Darkrai and his companion. Darkrai's sadistic hunger for dreams sustained him and Emile relished in his companion getting a good meal. He needed Darkrai to be at his best for what was to come.

--

A few hours would pass and the party of Emile and Darkrai would achieve a few things in that time. First was a quiet raid on Morph hideout. Much to their dismay, it produced no new leads. At this point, Emile decided to abandon this worthless town. This wasn't what he had expected as somewhere in this massive desert was a small Morph community who he would just love to meet...

That same day found a caravan leading away from the city and decided to sign on and hopefully escape this desert heat. The caravan was set to depart this evening when the sun's heat would be receding from these lands. So Emile found a cozy spot in one of the caravan's covered wagons and slept. Darkrai was free to wander but by he loved to occasionally come back just to haunt his companion's own dream.

[Assistant]
Sebastian

Nouvelle, what a strange place to find oneself in, with it artists everywhere, all working to perform for the Cheviot family, their ambition so great, it made it a requirement for the members of the family to walk arpund town with an escort if guards to hod the rabble back. Guards he was currently trying to avoid, as he had sorta started a fight in the nearby tavern, but he couldn't help it, the guy had come up to him, all big and tough, only to go down with a couple punches. The man Ursaring hadn't liked that, and went crazy trashing the place. That was the moment when Sebastian made his escape, not wanting to lose his head for a crummy barfight gone south.

Now, the Ursaring lie dead, soon to be followed by the big man that had challenged him. A pretty good way to end things, in his opinion, though it'd be better when he left the city. Currently, he was hiding on a nearby rooftop, looking down as the Cheviot woman and her guards looked around for him, though it was obvious the woman didn't believe the man and was only doing this out of courtesy. Stupid courtesy, if not for that, he'd be gone by now.

'It's fine, she is busy looking on the ground for the culprit. Nobody ever thinks to look up high for anything. Such is human nature.' And so, Sebastian waited for the eoman and her guards to leave, so he'd be able to make his escape.

[User] Zaegar looked around cautiously as he headed closer to his destinantion. He was just about to snatch the poster off the wall when someone beat him to it and ripped the papar apart angrily tossing it to the ground. Zaegar looked in dissapointment at the shreds, seemed that whenever he got near one of these posters they always got destoryed somehow. And everytime it happened he got more and more curious to actully learn more about this "Triumvirate"


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Male

Power: "Flux Coat" or Solid Viscosity Manipulation is the ability to manipulate the viscosity of a solid. This includes: All types of stone, asphalt, brick and concrete. The ability allows one to alter an objects flow by altering the bonds that hold the atoms in place. One can also then move that altered piece of ground at will, but only pieces that have been altered. The liquid rock can then be forced from solid to liquid at will.
 The ability is utterly useless in areas without such solids, and he has to carry around a piece of stone with him to use his ability in those areas. As well as that, the ground can only be controlled if it is touched by his naked skin. Any other contact is ineffective, but already liquidised solid can be controlled without touch.

Nationality: English

Bio: Jackson was a failure, in school and socially. He has friends, of course, but he would always get into fights and failed his tests. Despite getting into these fights, he would always win, since the challenger would always be inexplicably knocked out after a single blow. He earned respect and eventually started competing in underground fights for money. After this he began learning to fight better and better, and eventually became a well renowned fighter in both the underground and under 13's fighting competitions. One day though a fighter came around that was unlike the others. He had a strange get up and what looked like a deck of playing cards. The battle commenced, and the single punch (which was a fist coated is concrete) didn't work, and his other hand was cut open by one of the playing cards. Jackson just about won, by sealing the guy in a prison of stone. At that point, the authorities were called and both Jackson and the challenger were arrested.

For 4 years Jackson spent being transferred from facility to facility and owner to owner; life was almost not worth living... Almost. He kept his upbeat attitude and that helped him keep going through the hardships. On multiple occasions, he was almost killed by the organisation for his constant resentment and trouble making tendencies. He was transferred into the Center after the 4 years and spent another 3 months there. He grew a reputation and became a notorious leader of a prison faction named "SOUL". After the explosion, he escaped with his friends in hope to create a new life without worry - but also to create an underground fighting faction so they could live well and not on the streets (If you want our characters to be friends, let me know. Just a thought).

Personality: Jackson is almost always upbeat and positive, but if a situation becomes too negative he tends to become sad and secluded and sometimes suicidal. This can mostly be seen due to his depression when things get rough, but this is when his power comes into its greatest.

Appearance:

Other: Nope!

[User]
Gloria Lieth - Solitary Confinement
Gloria lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling. She rather hated this room. It was padded on every surface and everything was white. There were no windows. The color was kind of mind numbing. Though in all fairness the padded walls made really steady punching bags when she was angry. As much as Gloria might have hated the solitary confinement cells they were also the only place that she actually felt safe. She was completely cut off front the rest of the prison, she wasn't expected to do anything and while the food dropped in quality from what they got everywhere else Gloria made do.

As she thought the girl with the golden hair subconsciously ran her fingers over small white scars that decorated her knuckles. It was the reason she was in solitary in the first place. Every once in awhile when she was really angry Gloria would punch a wall... or a person but usually it was a wall. She did it because she was fed up with being trapped. Her ability gave her almost absolute freedom. Freedom to go where she wanted, to take what she wanted and to not have to listen to anyone. Being in this prison it was the ultimate hell for someone who was used to being able to walk through walls. Sometimes she'd wind up and hit the concrete in the vain hope that her fist might just go through it. It never happened and while her hand hurt and often enough bled she usually felt just a little bit better.

After the first couple of incidents she'd been taken to the infirmary, patched up and sent back into the yard. After the fifth or sixth they'd started cutting her food rations and lately the punishment had been solitary. They couldn't sell damaged merchandise so they couldn't have someone injuring themselves. They had some kind of healing meta in the infirmary but he always left the scars on her hands intact, a kind of reminder Gloria guessed.

After what could have been eternity or a few seconds or was likely about two days the door to the cell was opened. "Up and at 'em ghost girl. You're going back to the population. Lunch is just about ready." The guard escorted her to the lunch room where various lower members of SOUL were serving. It wasn't exactly appetizing but after several days in eating solitary food it might as well have been a turkey dinner. There was a table in the back that was more or less designated to the factionless. At any one time there were usually about ten of them but Edmund, Gloria herself and the one they called The Messenger were the only ones that lasted. The others usually died off in a weak or two. But there were always new ones to take there place. Screw ups of the various factions that got turned out, or idealists new to the prison that didn't understand that being factionless was a serious struggle. Gloria had only survived because she'd had the mentorship of another factionless girl that had gone through the same trials, Hippolyta. But she'd sold out. Now she was the leader of the Faction the Amazons and while Gloria could say they weren't as bad as factions like SOUL or STEM or the MIR they still weren't good.

Gloria noticed that Edmund wasn't at the table today. He was much older than her, likely one of the oldest people in the prison and she knew he suffered from migraines. He was most likely in the infirmary right now. The healing meta could help but apparently the brain was trickier to heal than other parts of the body. Gloria sighed and dipped a spoon into her gruel. It didn't taste half bad this morning.

[Assistant]
Nariv Arya - Cafeteria

Squelch went sound of his food when it hit his plate. Nariv grimaced at the mush, he remembered when he got normal food from school, it was pretty bad compared to the food that he ate at home, but it was better than this crap! The Messenger removed himself from the line, walking into the bustling cafeteria of scary people. Nariv swallowed his spit, he remembered when life wasn't this scary. He remembered when life was friends, family, and school! However, this life was trying to stay alive and keep people from killing you just for the heck of it! How did his life turn up this way? He was a decent person, didn't do anything too bad, but now he is going to be sold into slavery... Slavery! Like, what the heck!? What did he do in his past life to deserve this type of treatment!? Nariv let out an exasperated sigh, staring at his plate as he moved deeper into the lunch room.

He looked around, tables were designated for several different factions. At the top of his head, Nariv could only remember the top tiers which were the MIR, SOUL, STEM, and the Amazons. Everyone seemed to belong to a faction, even the tiny ones, but Nariv didn't belong to any type of faction. He was faced with the challenge of being Factionless, and it was normal that anybody that didn't have a faction would die within the first week or so, but it didn't work for only a handful of people. The Messenger was one of them, he was one of the only people that could use his power outside of the Arena, and he found himself using this power to relay messages to people to keep himself from being murdered! It was kind of weird to be doing this type of job inside of prison, but it kept him from being hurt, so that was something good that come out of it! So, Nariv continued to go further into the cafeteria, reaching the tables in the back since he still was factionless even though he interacted with them quite often. Though, he liked sitting away from all the scary people, especially the MIR, they spooked him the most.

So, as he made his way over to the factionless tables, he spotted someone rather interesting. Nariv didn't really know much about Gloria, but he knew that she was one of the only people that also managed to survive without a faction, however, she had to deal with the main problems of being factionless that the Messenger didn't have to face at all, and that would be random violent attacks. Nariv looked at the filled tables around the lunch room, there weren't too many tables around for the factionless to really sit without being attacked or heckled by the others. So, Nariv plopped himself down near Gloria.

For a few moments, he prodded at his food for just a bit, glancing towards the strange girl before trying to break the ice with a joke that he had seen on TV. "So what's the deal with airline food?"

[User]
John White - Cafeteria

Having arrived early for lunch as he had done since he got chucked in here, John was tucking in to lunch, which thankfully was better then what the others seemed to be getting due to him being a member of SOUL, at one of the tables that had unofficially been allocated to the said faction. Thoughts soon drifted away from lunch, and the Cafeteria.

John had at first been one of those who had wanted to do the whole 'lone ranger' thing. Luckily that had been smacked out of him fairly quickly after being regularly coerced into the arena. This in turn lead John's thoughts to his initiation into SOUL but he soon shook his head trying to dislodge the thoughts from his head like an animal shacking water out of its fur - not the worst analogy when it came to John by any means.

As John made his way through his food, his mind raced around trying to come up with plan after plan on how to escape, something he didn't doubt much, was something that was on everyone's mind at least once or twice a day - but like most of the time his plans based around him and the other metas being able to use their powers, but with the current set up of the prison, that was not going to happen, unless....no - that was not something John thought would be plausible - but the worst that could come of his idea would be another Arena session to teach him a lesson with suggesting stupid plans - it would be something for John to think over for a while at least until the other SOUL members arrived for their lunch.

[Assistant]
Sam King - Cafeteria

Sam waited in line with the other prisoners for his food, he was in a bit of a bad mood this day thanks to some issues that the other factions had given his. Such godless fools, they had no moral integrity or noble causes like The Cross did. Behind him were a couple of crusader's and priests, ready to give him backup in case a fight ever broke out. He was more than capable of handling a fight himself, but it was always to good to show the fearlessness and power of your faction to detract rivals from starting messes.

"Just look at those sinful harpies" the crusader behind him who was named Albert, growled and Sam turned around to look him as food was served to him. The tall muscular man motioned with his head to the faction table for the Amazons.

"What about them?" he asked as he moved along the lunch line to finish getting his food.

"They rub me the wrong way, if they try to cross us then I'll have their sinful heads" he continued to growl.

"Remember what the punishment is for starting fights and killing other prisoners, solitary confinement. Are main goal is to try and get out of this hellhole someday. We need to stay focused and not allow these sinners to distract us, is that clear?" Sam replied to Albert.

"Yes leader" Albert said and gave respectful bow as they walked over to sit at their faction's table. After the priests said a prayer, they all began to dig in and his mind raced with possible ideas to get out of the center.

[User]
Jackson Stone - Cafeteria

Jack arrived at the cafeteria after his little skirmish in the arena. Days like this were fight days; days that Jack could knock someone out. Grabbing his food from a couple of his subordinates, he headed to the unofficial SOUL table. John was there, as expected. He seemed to have a habit of arriving kinda early, not that that was a bad thing.
"Right kid?" he called to the 25 year old male as he sat across from him. Granted, John was about 8 years older than him, but he was still a subordinate. Taking a spoonful of the damnable food the bastards at the place were serving, he was reminded at how shit his life had actually become. Yes, it was a bit better than the crap regular guys got served, but still it was bloody awful. Before waiting for an answer from John, he took a look around. Seeing the usual suspects, he looked over to the factionless table. Again, the usual people were there; Gloria, the strange bird one.

Turning back around, he began thinking again. The main factions as of current were The Amazons, STEM, MIR, The Cross, SOUL and the odd little group called Guardians. Then there were the factionless guys, which are always a problem, but then again they were easy to have people turn against. MIR had always had it out for everyone, but they were easily manipulated with the promise of fighting. Then there was STEM, which were just the punching bags for everyone. The Amazons were just a group out to protect each other, so they were mostly useless, and that went the same for Guardians. The Cross were a bunch of religious nuts that believed in helping "boys" with personal problems. The highest probability of resistance would come from The Cross and The Amazons, so there would have to be a way to appease them. The Amazons could be dealt with with the promise of temporary protection, but The Cross would be a different story. Taking out the leader was out of the question, but... Maybe Gloria would be able to do something. If he could get them both in solitary, then he could pass on a message to her, but that might not work. If they'd closed up the hole, there would be no point. But maybe... The Messenger.

"Oi, messenger kid, outside solitary in forty minutes, don't be late" he called back to the factionless table. If he could make him do something to get the Cross's leader away from the area. The guards wouldn't be a problem, so all that was left was the cameras in the arena. Jason could probably sort that out, but he would require more convincing. Some better food might do it, or a couple days off of the arena. Wait, what was he thinking about again? Oh right, John.
"Oh yeah. I gotta take someone out at the arena today. Think you can get Jason to disable the cameras?" he asked John, looking up from the shit food he had been stirring for the past thirty seconds.