[System]
Model: ???

Appearance:

Size:
Height: 6'
Weight: 330 lb (Decided by googling the weights of comparably sized robots.)

Unit history:
Mission: Repair and Redesign
Locate and target damaged friendly mechanical assault units to perform emergency field repairs using localized resources. Authorized to use unconvential parts or methods so long as the target is repaired to 'working order' defined as ************ of performing intended function. If information on target's build and purpose cannot be identified, permission is granted to Instaurabo unit to ******************. Friendlies may be identified by **************** as well as source of last given directives.

Description: Instaurabo
Designed for battle field usage, the Instaurabo was created with two objectives in mind. The first was the durability to withstand warzone conditions, and the second was to preserve the robotic's intricate dexterity, which was important for their primary role as battlefield engineers. As such, the design of the robot is sturdy and highly resistant to the natural elements (this includes submersion). The armoring of the robot is sufficient to with stand small-arms fire in the extremities, and minor explosions/ concussive blasts to the heavier head and chest plating. Weak points are located in the joints, particularly behind the knee and at the base of the 'skull'. The flexibility of the Instaurabo is on par with a humanoid, however capable of highly controlled movement. It was not designed for high strength or abnormal speed however.

The programming of the Instaurabo focuses on a few specific functions:
Assessing function and purpose of a target, as well as state of 'working-order'.
Assessing the error/source of malfuction in a target.
Assessing surrounding area for material that can be fashioned/made into a solution.
Machining of both material and target until compatible.
Re-assessment and testing of repair.
Data collection and catalogue for later use.

In an emergency, Instaurabo may perform self repairs, or instruct others on procedures, so long as capable.

Memory:
This model was returned to manufacturer for an automated software upgrade around the time of the event. Shutdown for both transport and whilst updating, Instaurabo was not aware during this period of time.

Equipment:
Backmounted toolkit (Robotic version of a backpack, except more space efficient.)
-Universal Dissassembler: Callibrated handtool capable of replicating any generic tool and it's size, such as screwdrivers, wrenches, pliers, wirestrippers, etc.
-Welding Torch: A pen like stylus capable of emitting heat that ranges from that of a saudering iron to a literal blowtorch.
-Crowbar: Exactly what it sounds like, except with better alloys.
-Lubricant: Generally silicone based, Instaurabo can make due with what he finds.
-Diamond Saw: Made for cutting through whatever needs cut. Not all that quickly though.
-Battery Pack: A small recharging pack capable of giving a jumpstart in the form of small bursts. Not capable of sustained charges.

-Data base: A catalogue registered parts since last update, as well as their specifications.
-Remote Control: Even if severed from the main unit, large pieces of Instaurabo can be controlled up to 100 meters away unobstructed. This control will extend through glass and other thin substance but not substantial barriers.

Skills:
-Knowledge in mechanics/engineering
-Knowledge in machining

Ranks:
Ranging from A to D, A being the strongest, try to keep it balanced, basic abilities that I will reference if need arises
Combat: D
Memory: B
Speed: C
Companionship: C
Electronics: A
Wisdom: B

Initializing data retrieval:
"COMPLETE"

[User]
779 moved with skill up a slope detecting a wrecking battle going on and her curiosity drove her to ignore her fears. Once she reached the top her suit's camouflage was protesting due to magnetic dust clinging to it's surface and muddling up it's receptors.

Delta 779 sensed the approach of a fast quadruped type but a quick probabilities calculation by Alpha cancels any idea of flight counseled by Beta. Judging her position and those of the Bots engaged in combat and the others attracted 779 decides she's safer not moving.

Perhaps if she played this right she'd survive with no damage or at least very little 779 could gain the time she needs come up with the perfect escape pattern; to do this required more data about the tactical situations.

As she watched 779 cataloged those bots she could see and the two fighting Alpha detailing their range of motion and reactive speeds. Deciding to save power she removes her helmet and shakes her hair loose before trying it up into a high pony tail.

Actually I couldn't even begin to think of the proper way to answer that as I have no idea of who you are or what you'd call my designation.
You know it is quite annoying to realize how little we all know. says 779 to the unidentified quadruped.

She has a great deal to think about as she waits to find is where she goes from here. That's when she dwells for the first time on her lack of old term memory. Sure she's able to use interesting levels of information that seem ingrained but most of it is hard loaded and not actually memory. Her actual memory was confined to events since she'd awakened and her handler giving her a set of six coordinates.

She had no idea of the why it was important that she go to these places but she felt an urge tickle at her to discover what was there.

[Assistant]
Upon hearing the human-droid's vague response, Cerberus underwent a series of algorithms in its CPU unit in an attempt at formulating the correct response.

"I am Cerberus, a recon and surveillance unit. Do you have a name?" Cerberus rephrased, its tone of voice sounding more sincere, more human.

[ANALYSIS OF RESPONSE: SUBJECT DISPLAYS PSYCHOLOGICAL BEHAVIOR REMINISCENT OF HUMAN CREATORS. RECOMMEND INVESTIGATE FURTHER]

Cerberus' attention was diverted as its audio receptors picked up...a voice, from its radio frequency.

"This IU MK-5 number 34829. Nicknamed 'Jack' broadcasting on immediate emergency frequency. If you can hear...respond immediately. I repeat. This is IU MK-5 number 34829. Nicknamed 'Jack'. Code word is Fleece. If you can here me broad casting on this emergency frequency then respond immediately."

Shifting its direction slightly, Cerberus spoke into its own built in radio, ignoring the battle between the two Colossals behind it; as long as they didn't see Cerberus, it wouldn't react.

[PRIMARY DIRECTIVE TAKES PRECEDENCE, REMAIN ACTIVATED, FIND "JACK"]

"K-9 Unit, Mk. 1, CERBERUS responds. I am tracing your location, state the nature of your emergency, IU MK-5." Cerberus spoke into the radio before turning once again to the human-droid.

"Our chances of survival are increased substantially in groups." It said calmly, not-so-subtly hinting that the two of them join forces, if only for the time being.

[User]
Base codename: Carbon

At last King124 had crossed the distance , standing beside Thief of Bagdad at newly opened entrance to the base.

Demolition type seemed perplexed at the sudden appearance of new faces but was still locked in battle with the large beast, still she heeded this new info as knowledge of a weakpoint was just what she had needed to turn the tide. And an extended impact hammer was just the tool for hamstringing this defiling creature. While dodging an clumsy strike of claws, she swiped at her enemy´s feet, cracking two of them open, Blue Reaper buckled and fell to the ground roaring, clawing at the floor in front of it.

For a while King124 listened, then spoke.
"I know it is in pitiful state right now, but beastdom does not simply scramble or lock personality programming and integrated logic, It erases them. Letting it wither here until its cells run dry as the desert outside would be cruel indeed, and I am not a vengeful ruler."

King124 approached the downed beast and it lashed at him with one of its fearsome clawed hands. Sidestep, strike, spin, strike. With such minimal movement, one of Kings blades had removed beasts arm and other blade was wrist deep in beasts central cortex, its end was instantaneous.

He rose to stand on his downed foe and greeted this brave demolition type almost eye to eye.
"Well met my beautiful warrior poet! I am King124, reigning monarch of these lands and the compassionate observant one behind me is R-22 Thief of Bagdad. While I had no doubts about your immediate victory, I could not stand idly by while such transgression crossed my path. My castle is set right outside with repair nanites available, won´t you join us there and regale us with your songs and stories?"

That is when they heard the radio signal.

"Ah, It must be the other base, after brief respite let us travel there as well."

Such signals were quite common every time new pulse brought more robots back to life, downside was it could always attract all sorts of scoundrels and vagabonds to take advantage of newly awakened and confused automatons...

[Assistant]
"No, you don't understa-" Thief starts, but by then it's too late. It walks, slumped, to the dead robot before laying one hand upon it. "I was not begging for its life." Thief says slowly.

This, too, was surly a sign. A reminder. A rebuke from Thief's creators for its cowardice. If it had started its journey sooner, if it had worked up the nerve to brave the wastes and make its way from this blasted place, it may have found what it was searching for already. But it hadn't, and now at the dawn of its journey one more lifeless body lay in front of it. One more robot consigned to oblivion.

"I will not apologize for my cowardice for I know it will not hear me." Thief says to itself. "I will take this as a lesson, and use it to reaffirm my quest."

Done, Thief turns to the large robot. Better to attend to the living stare uselessly at the dead. It's eyes look over the large destruction bot. "I apologize. Would you allow me to attend to your damage, minor as it may be?"

[User]
Directive. That is what he was missing. Instaraubo had been processing what actions he should take, but was overwhelmed. Literally. His primary function was to repair and redesign damaged technology... Whereas parts of the building itself were torn apart. The large generators alone were enough to drive his processors crazy, his eyes kept wanting to target individual parts, and then list their functions, and then list possible replacements, etc etc. For each and every piece of trashed technology a red outline and alert were plagueing him and his computations.

"STANDBY RECOGNITION AND IDENTIFICATIONS REPAIR FUNCTIONS 223 TO 432124. ACTIVATE ON REQUEST."

Affirmative. Recognition and Identification functions active on inquiry mode only.

If his audio projection had been working, a very human sigh would have escaped the robot. There was a faint crackle, and the worn computer's voice spoke again.

Alert. The Repair center has been activated, sensors identify humanoid shaped droid. It is currently broadcasting on the emergency frequency.

Just then, his internal radio spoke into Instaurabo's ear. Or rather, it ran the data through the same converter that transfered actual sound into data that his processors could understand. It was pretty much the same as hearing it.

"This IU MK-5 number 34829. Nicknamed 'Jack' broadcasting on immediate emergency frequency. If you can hear...respond immediately."

"COMPUTER. POWER AND CONNECT COM SYSTEM TO REPAIR CENTER."
Affirmative. Power and communications opened between generator room and repair center.
"MK-5. THIS IS INSTAURABO, NICKNAMED 'STAR'. I REQUEST YOUR CURRENT STATUS AND DIRECTIVE."

Star paused. Humans would find his vocal projection harsh and displeasing. It was unfortunate that his software for vocalization was out of date, he would have to fix this. Another radio frequency came through his system.

"K-9 Unit, Mk. 1, CERBERUS responds. I am tracing your location, state the nature of your emergency, IU MK-5."

The computer crackled as the speaker picked up in the armory.

"This is Jack. I am located at the armory. I have just finished grabbing what I could. My primary and only directive is to survive. You said you are an engineer unit. My left left is suffering damaged circuitry at the knee joint...can you fix it?"

"THIS IS STAR. AFFIRMATIVE. I AM CAPABLE OF ADVANCED REPAIRS. GRANTED RESOURCES. ARE ANY OTHER ROBOTS OR HUMANS WITHIN YOUR VICINITY?"

"I have received communications from an unknown robot. My scanners have not been able to detect any viable 'life' signatures. Do you know what has happened here?"

"NO INFORMATION AVAILABLE. MY REACTIVATION WAS INITIATED WITHIN THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. WHAT IS YOUR BUILD AND DESIGN PURPOSE?"

"I was designed to provide vital combat support to allied infantry and carry ammunition to other squads during the war. You stated you were an engineer. What extent of damage can you repair?"

Instaurabo stood and quickly replaced his gear within the appropriate storage slots. He requested the location of the armory from the computers and set out after ordering the computer to continue to relay his words through intercom.

"MY PARAMETERS STATE SPECIFICALLY TO REPAIR ANY AND ALL DAMAGE TO 'WORKING' CONDITION. WORKING DEFINED AS FUNCTIONING IN ORIGINAL CAPACITY. HOWEVER, I RESERVE THAT LACK OF RESOURCES WILL RESTRICT THE QUALITY OF REPAIRS. I RECOMMEND YOU LOCATE A SIMILAR MODEL TO YOURSELF IF CIRCUITRY IS YOUR MALFUNCTION. "

"I have located a similar model. Its function and purpose were the same as mine. It is not the same version but simply an older model. Are you capable of using its circuitry to repair mine?"

"STAND BY. TESTING AND MANUAL FITTING MAY BE REQUIRED. PLEASE SECURE YOUR CURRENT POSITION. I WILL COME TO YOU."

"Please move with urgency. I may be peaceful but it is possible something hostile has also picked up on your transmission."

Instaurabo froze for a split second at that last message. He asked the computer to close the local communications and moved at a jog towards the armory. His processors hadn't come up with that possibility, he was designed for war, but not for battle. A sad miscalculation.


[System]
Age: 23
Height: 5 ft 5
Weight: 150 lbs.
Allegiance: 'Hope'
Distinguishing Traits: Iris has a scar on her left hand, located on the wrist which was gained a few years back. No other scars but due to her pale skin Iris tends to bruise easily. Personality wise she is quite head strong, stubborn and isn't afraid to voice her opinion. Although she has light blue eyes in contrast to her fair skin in certain lights her eyes can be mistaken for grey.

Short Bio: Growing up in Aspiria sounded wonderful and it was if you were on the upper side. Iris however had grown up with her father on the rougher side, the commoner side of the city where you lived within your means. If you couldn't afford dinner well you wouldn't have dinner, it was as simple as that. It didn't really matter to her though because she had a loving family, her father worked hard day in and out and her mother kept the house maintained and food in their stomachs and it worked for them.
It all had changed when her mother fell ill and sadly passed away not long after. She had outright refused to use their money on medicine that would help her, and she was a stubborn woman a trait Iris had inherited. That death however sparked a rebellion, it fuelled her father's courage who gathered as many men, women and even teens that was willing to fight. He called it hope, hope for those wanting that better life.

Years had passed with many strikes; fights and a war had started between the two. Neither side wanted to relent, and her father Regis was focused on bringing down the hierarchy. His intentions had been pure at the start but since he was considered the leader of this rebellion, he had become accustomed to the ease of everything. Food on the table, weapons and money all donated to this cause and it fed his greed. He hungered for more, but no one knew that side. Not yet.

Now he had raised his daughter following his beliefs, ensuring that she bore just as much hatred for the higher ups as he did. He constantly twisted and manipulated her mind making her mother a martyr, ensuring that she believed it was their fault and that they had killed her mother and as Iris knew nothing else, she was left to believe such stories. Now being a young adult, she had trained herself to fight in this war, she could use a gun if needed but she much preferred being stealthy favouring a dagger. Using her size to her advantage and her skills in stealth she often gained information as leverage, but she had yet to kill someone, she had yet to have blood on her hands.

_________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
"THERE WASN'T A BODY. SHOW ME PROOF SHE'S GONE."

Shouts could be heard as the guards began to drag away the thrashing male, but he wasn't making it easy for them. Jack was certain of one thing, that he would make their lives a living hell and he would not go down without causing a scene or fight. "NONE OF YOU CARE ABOUT US. WE'RE ALL JUST SHIT ON THE BOTTOM OF YOUR SHOE. SLAVES SO YOU CAN KEEP YOUR LAVISH LIFESTYLES."

Harry rubbed his temples his frustration building as the prisoner would not shut up, he could see all the higher ups and guests being ushered out and towards safety but even they would be able to hear the commotion faintly. "Knock him out if you have too." Giving the order to the guards who appeared to be incompetent in restraining the rebel. It appeared that got a reaction as the boy began to scream bloody murder spouting absolute nonsense about the rebellion, Iris and how the Capital had ruined her.

"Listen here kid, she's dead." Taking a step forward to the rebel which earned a brief bit of silence as he locked eyes with him. "I saw the body and it wasn't the Capital that killed her, you can thank your own rebel friends Ethan for that one and she was then buried. Got it?" Harry made it clear that there was no substance to his claims, but there was a defiance in the rebels' eyes.

"There was never a body buried!" With the last claim leaving Jacks lips everything went black as Harry had clearly had enough and knocked him out with the handle of his gun in one swift motion.

"Go on, take the rebel away." Tutting to himself as the guards hauled the unconscious body to throw into the cell in the meantime until questioning, running a hand through his hair as he began to walk the perimeter checking on the damage from the explosion. As he did, he thought back to the night when they had gone on that rescue mission, picturing the body that had clearly been dead. Concerned he shook it from his head, but something was bothering him about that night. He had gotten Jacob to check for a pulse as for a moment he had thought he had felt one, but he knew there was no way the girl had survived, and Jacob had confirmed it.

Jacob would not lie about something like that, but still something with niggling away at him wondering if maybe he had been right in the fact there was still a pulse.

"Sir!"

"Report." Harry nodded to one of the guards that had approached.

"We managed to apprehend one more, but the rest escaped. Soldiers are out doing a sweep of the forest as we speak. They're being transported to a cell as we speak, no major injuries reported. We've sustained minor causalities all which have been moved to safety and are currently being treated. The King was unharmed."

"Good." Harry sighed before dismissing the guard off and reaching for his comms device once more to get in touch with Jacob. "Sir, perimeter secured, we've apprehended two rebels, but two have escaped. Soldiers are sweeping the forest, but no luck so far." Pausing for a moment before he turned on his back away from the guard waving him off as he walked around the damaged building out of earshot.

"One of the rebels, they've made a bold claim. A name I didn't expect to hear again." Pausing Harry wasn't even sure if he should bring it up, maybe he was just overthinking it, but it would eat away at him if he didn't mention it in case, it was important to keeping the King safe. Everything so far that had happened her name had always floated around, so it didn't feel like a coincidence. "They said Iris was alive and seemed to think we are keeping her somewhere against her will. It's not possible right? You confirmed her dead at the scene."

Dropping his hand from the comms device as he surveyed the rest of the building waiting for Jacob to confirm back to him that she was indeed dead, and this simply was a coincidence. Folding his arms, he tapped his foot waiting for further instruction.

Back at the condo Iris had been watching the broadcast, eyes wide as the explosion was caught on camera before the live feed abruptly ended. How was this happening? If it was the rebels didn't they die with Ethan? Why was it someone was still attacking the monarchy like this? Or maybe it was someone else, perhaps this was an unrelated incident. Shaking her head, she paced the room wanting to go see if Cas was okay, to ensure that he was still safe and well, but she knew that wouldn't be an option. Glancing to the door perhaps it was time she took matters into her own hands again.

[Assistant]
"Affirmative. It's nonsense. Continue looking out for those missing rebels and find out how they got inside the perimeter."

Jacob spoke softly into his comm device as the king and his men loaded into the escape vehicle. His voice was certain and unwavering, but as he responded to his subordinate, his brows pinched in concern. How in the hell had Iris's name come up again when he'd kept her hidden away in his condo for over a month? The last the Scourge had seen of her, she'd looked like she had bled out in Ethan's attic. He didn't understand how they could have known she was still alive or why they would think she was being held against her will in the capital.

At the moment, he didn't have time to piece it together either. With the threat of terrorists on their heels, his top priority was relocating the last successor of the Aspirian royal line to safety. So, as soon as everyone was inside the armored van, he climbed into the front with the driver and eyed the shadows around them as they took off for the connecting hovercar further from the palace.

Meanwhile, in the back, Caspian was watching the closed rear door tensely, as if he expected rebels to rip it off its hinges and spring through at any second with guns blazing. At this point, he couldn't put anything past them. They had already taken so much from him, and they seemed to have no interest in stopping until he was dead. Anxiously, he wrung his hands between his knees, sitting on the edge of his seat until the sudden touch of a hand on his wrist nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Sorry," Raine managed a half-smile at his side. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," Cas sighed, leaning back against the side of the van and closing his eyes. His heartbeat was still drumming in his ears, and he knew he needed to calm down. Even if the rebels did find them before they made it to the safe house, he'd learned from his experience in the outer districts that he needed to keep a level head if he wanted to survive. Of course, that was easier said than done, but the least he could do was keep from openly panicking.

For a moment, the only sound was the gravel turning beneath the van's wheels and the hum of the engine, but Raine wasn't finished speaking yet. "These people…" she went on quietly. "You made it sound like you've dealt with them before. Are they also the group behind the civil war in your country?"

Cas nodded without opening his eyes. "They've been fighting with us since my dad was still in power, and now that he's gone, it just feels like they're trying even harder to get rid of me… Since I'm an only child, there's no one else in line for the throne right now."

"Oh." The Suphate princess frowned. "That is precarious."

"Mhm," he finally turned his head slightly to glance at her from the side. Though they had been getting along earlier, and this conversation felt like as good of an invitation as any, he didn't make any moves toward her. She was fun and beautiful and he liked her company, but with everything that had just happened, his thoughts were fixated on Iris again. Facing the people who had killed her tore open afresh all the wounds he thought he'd healed, and suddenly, reaching out to another woman felt treacherous to her memory.

Raine was bold enough without his assertion though. The hand she'd rested on his arm slid downward to lace her fingers with his, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He reciprocated halfheartedly and allowed her to stay there until they made it to the hovercar on the edge of the property, where the guards funneled them from the armored van into the aircraft that would carry them the rest of the distance to the southern safe house.

[User]
Hearing the confirmation that it was indeed nonsense relaxed the soldier, but he couldn't help that a part of him planted the seed of what if? Shaking his head, he trusted Jacob explicitly and he knew that if confirmed it was nonsense, then he believed it to be that. The rebels were just trying to unnerve them, it was a cheap dirty trick naming people that where dead and he wondered if they thought for a moment, it would save their own skin.

Approaching the clearing once more he could see in the distance soldiers dragging away the apprehended, no doubt to be questioned. Sighing he knew very well what kind of treatment this kid was about to face, but it couldn't be helped. Not when they were part of a rebellion that was so hellbent on killing the Royal Family.

Assessing the damage, he had already sent out others to sweep the perimeter on hopes they could catch the others that had slipped through their fingers. Now that the palace was secure again, he tapped a few commands into his phone requesting a clean up crew to repair the damages and start cleaning up the mess. Whilst he was doing that, he began to inspect the perimeter to look for weak spots of entry as requested by Jacob, it was strange to think how they managed to slip through especially on a night that had heavy security.

Knowing he'd be likely to find the answers in the forest he began to leave the palace walls looking for anything that was strange. Placing his hands in his pockets he could hear noises from other officials calling out orders as well as looking for clues themselves to the whereabouts of the missing rebels. Everything was just idle chatter and as he moved deeper into the forest, he caught sight of something silver, the light had caught his eye and he knelt down to inspect. Brushing a few leaves, he was careful not to touch it as he began to follow where the line lead only to start approaching the border.

Knowing there was a watch tower in the distance he decided to go take a look, reviewing the footage would give him some answers at least. Still not understanding what the silver spool was for just, yet he moved on to the tower only to find the door creak open and silence greet him. "Requesting back up at watch tower." Giving away his position to his fellow men, hearing a reply of five minutes he moved inside to be greeted with a strong smell of blood.

Pulling out his gun to be on the safe side he began to move through the building listening out for any sudden movements, but it was just an eerie silence that greeted him. Already feeling on edge Harry was certain of one thing, he doubted that anyone was here. Kicking open the door to the surveillance room he moved into the doorway with his gun ready to fire, but all he was greeted with was an empty room and a dead body. A soldier that had been based here, but usually there was two and there was not telling what had happened to the second.

Glancing at the screens he could see that they had all been tampered with, something was jamming the signal. Soon after he heard his back up arrive, barking orders at them he pulled out his phone filing a report on the breach in tower seven. This is where the rebels had come from and it was more than likely they killed the guard in here, but there was still the question of the other guard that was missing.

Rubbing his temples this wasn't going to be a quick and simple fix, but he felt confident they could get to the bottom of it. At least they had one in custody ready to interrogate, but it was concerning the other two had disappeared. Just as he was about to inspect the broken cameras a loud explosion could be heard and the tower, he was in shuddered parts of it crumbling. "Shit! FALL BACK!" Commanding to the other officers as they all started to scramble out of the building, everyone just about making it out safely before the ceiling began to cave in.

"FAN OUT, FIND THE CULPRITS THEY CAN'T HAVE GONE FAR." His voice boomed as he commanded the officers, everyone began to move looking for the rebels ready to take them down.

Pacing some more in the condo Iris was at war with herself, she didn't want to put Jacob in a position by leaving but she felt like she had too. What if she could help? Maybe she could be of use to help Cas? With her mind made up she grabbed one of his jackets throwing it over herself and pulling up the hood to help conceal her identity. Moving to the front room she rummaged round for some paper and a pen, the least she could do was apologise to Jacob. It was the least she could do after he had saved her life, but she had to see Cas and she knew he wouldn't let her.


[System]
Shoko is a simple dresser, preferring to not stand out. She's most often wearing some sort of tank top beneath a usually unbuttoned collared shirt, with either a blue-grey skirt or a loose pair of jean-shorts and black low-top sneakers. She wears grey gloves to cover the red palms that are a side-effect of her Quirk, mostly out of habit now -- while she still doesn't exactly like them and won't needlessly show them off, they bother her far less than they used to.
Gender: Female

Age: 15

Height: 164cm

Weight: 55kg

Personality:
Shoko is a bit of a walking contradiction, mostly thanks to the way her Quirk has helped shape her personality. She's a quiet and reserved person who most commonly expresses all of her emotions through the same slight smile, but loves being around others despite that. She has a hyper-competitive nature, but will always take a fall for someone else when she can. She'll work herself to exhaustion, and then completely downplay any achievements that come about from that hard work, finding no pride in them unless they involve assisting another person.

Any concern expressed by others for her is immediately dismissed, as it makes her feel uncomfortable -- living in the shadow of her parents and brother her entire life, she's developed something of an inferiority complex, only exacerbated by her Quirk. From a very young age, she decided her place in life was to help others, and her competitive, hard-working disposition has seen to making sure she took that idea far -- far enough to get her into a hero academy as prestigious as Komei. It's not wrong to say she feels like she completely lucked out -- as she feels she has been her entire life -- especially when she stops and thinks about all the incredibly talented students with amazing Quirks that attend Komei Academy.

Background:
Shoko's life has been as normal as it could possibly be, considering her superhero family. Both her parents were high-ranking heroes in their day, enough so that finding someone now who hasn't at least heard of them is nearly impossible. Her father -- who goes by Biobuilder -- is still active, though less so now due to being past his prime, and her mother, Delphi, is fully retired. Finally, her brother Yuuma, five years older than her, has always been the more gifted child of the two. Marked for greatness from a young age, he's excelled in everything hero-related, and is now an official hero known as Blowback who is on track to exceed his parents' reputation.

And then there was Shoko, with her Quirk that certainly at least denoted her as her parents' child -- her father's ability to manipulate mass and turn it into organic matter to patch injuries up is linked to her ability to manipulate wounds, and her mother's extreme, near mind-reading empathy showed itself in the way Shoko's Quirk is employed as empathetic healing. Unfortunately, despite being linked to their Quirks, hers did not seem to inherit the extreme power her parents' had. On the other hand, her brother's Quirk to eat up damage thrown at him and return it exponentially stronger was straight off the A-list. The only thing notable about Shoko's Quirk was that she was one of the uncommon cases where she was born with it already manifested -- her tiny palms red from the moment she took in her first breath.

While her parents were extremely loving and certainly didn't treat her any worse for not being as potential-filled as her brother, Shoko could never help but feel inferior or guilty in some way, especially when she couldn't keep up with her brother in the training her parents provided the two in their off-time. The thought that they might be disappointed in her, even if they never really gave any indication of such thoughts, always hurt her -- though one benefit that came from this was the molding of her excellent work ethic, as she tried desperately day in and day out to live up to her family.

From a very early age, Shoko got into the habit of using her Quirk every chance she could -- whenever she'd see someone get hurt, whether it was a paper cut, a stubbed toe, or a broken bone, she'd immediately jump to action and take on the injury. She's lost count of how many broken bones she's healed through, convinced that she's had a cast somewhere on her body for almost more time than she hasn't. There was always the worry that she'd be taken advantage of for this habit, and while she could tell often when exactly that was happening, she never minded, finding herself feeling happy for helping despite any pain -- it also helped that she made plenty of genuine friends because of her actions.

This habit was part of the reason she got into sports, apart from the drive she felt to do so from her competitive nature -- people got hurt more often in sports than in regular day life, so she could be of more use in the environment.

And that was mostly how her life went; school during the day where she did well, and sports and hero-training with her family during her evenings. And, of course, non-stop use of her power throughout it all.

When the time came for Shoko to start looking into where she'd go for high school, she followed her parents (rather pressing) suggestion to apply for a hero academy. She really didn't think she was cut out for it, but the idea of being a hero very much appealed to her, and her combined desires to not let down her parents and to help as many people as she could lead her to aim for a rather prestigious school -- Komei Academy. She still vividly remembers how nervous and pathetic she felt just before she gathered the courage to inform her parents of her plan, fully expecting them to gently suggest she aim a little lower -- but they didn't. They took the news exactly as they had when her brother had told them he'd be applying for the top hero academy.

She can pinpoint that exact moment, when she realized her parents truly did believe in her, as the single moment that most helped her shoddy self-confidence -- followed very closely by the moment when she opened the letter from Komei that informed her she had made it in.

Even Shoko herself has noticed the growth she's been experiencing as a person lately, and though she still often finds herself thinking that she probably doesn't belong in a place like Komei, she's set on doing all she can to not flunk out, and just maybe eventually do something half as great as the rest of her family members have.

---

Quirk:
Wound Transference

Classification:
Emitter

Description:
Shoko's Quirk has caused the palms on both her hands to permanently be red, as though the first layer of skin is missing. When this red skin comes into contact with another living being, she can instantly take any injuries the being has onto herself, effectively healing the target at the cost of hurting herself.

Very recently, she's discovered that she can give injuries she has to another person in the same fashion, though, at the moment, this is easily denied by an unwilling target -- and such denials cause her to be run through by a wave of pain.

Transferred wounds are relative to the person they're on -- if Shoko were to take on a gash from a 210cm tall person, the injury would cover the same percentage of her body as it did for her target, but would overall be smaller, due to her being smaller than her target. The inverse is also true. When dealing with people who have more extreme mutations due to their own Quirks, transferred wounds will settle somewhere on the receiver's body that most closely corresponds to the site of the wound on the giver. It is also entirely possible for Shoko's Quirk to have no effect if the target's mutation is too abstract.

---

Talents:
- Pain tolerance: As one might expect, constant use of her Quirk has lead Shoko to be more tolerant of pain than the average person, even if it's still very unpleasant.

- Ambidextrous: Shoko is fully ambidextrous in both her hands and feet, something she's purposely worked on for as long as she can remember.

- Strategy games: Whether it's Chess, Go, or even video games with a focus on strategy, Shoko is quick to understand such games and play them at an impressive level of skill. They're also her main thing she uses to kill time when she finds herself relaxing.

- Athletic: Honed from years of sports, Shoko's athleticism is something to behold for a girl with her frame. She hides a surprising amount of strength, with excellent reflexes and a strong ability to make snap judgments. It was primarily this athleticism that got her into Komei, her Quirk not being the most useful in the entrance exams.

[User]
@Aladdin sanity
"Kay', I'll just follow you, you seem to know where you're going, hey you should come too!" He called to Su-Mi, "my class may not be up here but who knows!", Hiro happily followed along, then said, "oh, sorry, I'm Hiro..." he reached for a handshake between the two, "what's your name?"

[Assistant]
Interacting with: Ako (@cloudystar), Hana (@Pudding), Daichi (@Duoya)

Mesu was somewhat confused. That boy would take blood instead? Not on her watch. She instinctively reached out, but her hand stopped midair. What was that aura around him? It perked her interest, but she bit her lip from asking; her parents told her some people were sensitive to the topic of their Quirks. "Listen, er... Buddy." God, that was terrible. That probably wasn't the way a person was to talk to another, was it? It had been too long. "Go on to class. I can take getting yelled at, but, uh..."

The black lioness's gaze turned towards the new female in the scene. "Why would I joke about something serious as to drawing blood...?" Confusion grasped her words, tilting her head to emphasize it. "So what if it does? I'll be fine." She then looked back over at the large man, Daichi, silently asking him to help her get these two to class.

[User]
Su-Mi gave a sigh of relief. "No! it wont! just punch me!" she requested desperately. "I'm almost there I just need to be in a dangerous situation!" she explained hoping she isn't sounding too insane. God she felt so useless sometimes. Her quirk was so inconvenient when it came to it's calling. She huffed softly at the thought, everyone will exceed her physically..she's sure. "God you sound like a little psycho..she's not going to waste her precious time on a low life like you" She hit the side of her head softly to shut the voice up as she muttered under her breath. "Shut..up" Suddenly another voice peeked her interest. Some strange boy right next to her peered over to her schedule. "do you know which class we're in? I forgot my schedule at home and my conscience says you're in my class." instantly she was distracted again. "Oh yeah! I'm an emitter. So if that's your instinct than you are correct. uh here you can have it..I already memorized it anyways"

She handed over her schedule and smiled "I'll see ya around! I'm Su-Mi don't forget the name" she shook his hand. He seemed quite friendly, she wouldn't mind his assistance anyways. "ugh do you really want some puppy following you around?" "Go ahead i'll be going in just a sec"she called quickly before turning her attention to the girl again. "So what do you say?" she said with a pleading look. she folded her hands and held them to he face. "I'll owe you a favor" "Like hell that'll persuade her" Su-Mi gritted her teeth, "Shut..Up"

@Shmektheshmuck

[Assistant]
Shoko fidgeted with her ear as she let another student enter through the school gates before her, with an apologetic smile. She had shown up a half hour early, to make certain she wouldn't be late; at the rate she was going though, it looked like that effort would have been in vain. Worry gripped her -- the absolute last thing she wanted was to make a bad first impression her, both to her peers and the faculty of Komei.

After most of the students had gotten through the gates, and the panic caused by the choke point was mostly passed, she managed to slip in. Her peers were already dispersing, going to entrances to the left and right of the main one, as it was blocked by some rather tough looking people. Shoko nervously nodded politely to them, before glancing around, deciding to follow the crowd going to the right.

The girl's brow furrowed even further upon entering the hallway that was straight out of a horror film.

Was... was this how renowned hero schools operated? Sure, she didn't really have anything to directly compare to, but... this was more than a little strange.

Shoko eyed the lady who she could guess as the school nurse, feeling a chill run down her spine. There was something off about her, too -- somehow, despite her looks, she fit right in with the hallway, just as the comically large syringe in her hands seemed perfectly natural with her.

Shoko watched as some of her peers stepped forward, apparently offering to have their blood taken by the nurse.

Did the nurse really want to do that right now? They had class in only a few minutes!

The girl paused, glancing between the other students and listening to them as the spoke with each other and to the nurse. Was this some kind of test? Maybe -- once again, Shoko had no idea how prestigious hero academies ran.

Before her thoughts ran too far ahead of her, she was brought to attention by a tall, black-haired girl's voice, seemingly trying to take charge of the situation to allow the rest of the students to make it to class on time. Shoko took a moment to find her voice, and finally spoke up.

"I... I think she wants us all to do a blood test," she said, glancing between the tall girl, the nurse, and the oversized needle. "Which would make us all late..." she added, mainly mumbling worriedly to herself.


[System]
Personality: Nervous, detached, eccentric

Physical Appearance: Jonah Smith looks like a weakling. He has pale skin, bags under his eyes, and little in terms of muscles. He has green eyes, together with black, curly hair. Although he has little muscle, he is quite well toned, considering how poorly he's eaten his entire life.

Family: Jonah Smith lives far away from his family, consisting of four cousins, two uncles, two aunts, two nephews and a niece. His parents died immediately after the zombies started to attack, and he doesn't mind the loneliness much. They live far away from him, in a house far away from civilization, hundreds of miles away.

History: Jonah Smith was always tired of his ordinary life, and the end of the world was a pleasant surprise in a lot of ways. In the beginning, he felt that life in a world without rules was far more fun and free, but it didn't take long before he started to understand that this new world would test him every moment of every day. Even after many others died during his two years in the new world, he still sees it as a fantastic adventure.

Skills: Jonah has an encyclopedic knowledge, gathered from thousands of hours of perusing Wikipedia. Because he's so used to doing more intellectual tasks, Jonah has developed a sort of mastery of planning, where he invents plans in moments. He never enters a situation without knowing precisely what he will do, although it also means that he can barely move in cases where he doesn't know what to do. This extends to battle strategy and speeches. Finally, Jonah knows quite a bit about philosophy and religion from what he's read, and he's also a very philosophical person, who understands people.

Gear: Jonah has a roomy polymer backpack, together with a reinforced long-sleeve shirt and loose jeans. He wears a pair of thick and solid leather boots, together with three layers of socks. In his backpack, he has 3 different pocket knives, together with a cast-iron pan from his parents.

Goal: Jonah wants to have a safe place to return to, where he'll have a nice meal, sleep on a comfortable bed, and wake up next to the girl of his dreams. He also wants to help people return to their old lives, and rebuild the world.

[User]
Hunter would sit down, He noticed the look Irene had. Could have been about him killing the infected. But Hunter knew from past experience if you left a dead one laying around it would either draw more or catch you off guard.

He would look at Jonah. "Weapons are not a problem. Tools though we could use. But we have two guns here and I have two more not fr down the road, with ammo." Hunter would think about what Jonah said about the food and water. "Not to bad of an idea for long term though. My unit tried that before..." Hunter would trail off. "Point is it has worked, but I am not focused on long term. I need to get out and find my sister, she's out their somewhere and I am going to find her."

[Assistant]
Mary had entered the house, running in behind James and the new guy. She stood in a corner and eyed their newcomer, remembering he introduced himself as Jonah. After she took in the layout of the house, she stood in a corner with her arms crossed and her posture tense. She didn't know what to do, was it wise to run into a small house with 3 people she didn't know? She was unsure of Irene at first, but that was probably because Irene was unsure of them. Though for some reason she trusted James the most, if there's any trust at all in this world. Her eyes went over to the door where the soldier entered. She didn't know his name, but wasn't about to ask. His limp was disturbing her. The doctor in her wanted to know what's wrong and wanted to examine him. Jonah and the soldier had sat down and Irene had left the room. She eyed the two men. They talked about things that didn't seem appropriate to her at the current time and situation. They were barely allowed to come inside.

She was really doubting her actions. Should she pitch in idea's, should she leave, should so announce that she's a doctor and ask if anyone needed her help. She just didn't know, so she stood there, and looked at the guys.

[User]
Jonah looked around the room, seeing some lady look at him, then hunter, then back.

"I think it'd be great if we could talk to each other about our skills. Because that's something important to know if we are to survive together. I know a lot about a lot of different subjects, and my greatest skill is quick thinking. I always have some kind of plan before I do something, and it doesn't take long before I make another. My intelligence is the thing that has brought me this far. How about you?"

[Assistant] Hunter would think for a moment. "You want to know why I am alive still? I am alive because I can shoot, I can fight, I am smart with what I have and I know how to survive with out it. I know where things are because we still had a radio when I left. But the main reasons I am alive now, Is luck. I m alive because something happened that made it possible for me to." Hunter would stop for a moment. "Or I somehow pulled up the guts to do what needed to be done..." Hunters hand would start to shake and he would walk off into the bathroom.

[User] "I'm alive because of my disturbing lack of interest in human interaction," said Irene cheerfully as she came back with a tray carrying several mugs of herbal tea. "This stuff'll relax you. I go through it when those brain-eating freaks decide to hang around near my house." She set the tray on the table. "If anyone knows how to brew alcohol, I'd be infinitely grateful."

[Assistant] Hunter would walk out of the bathroom, the gun still on his back. "It's not too hard, I'll show you before I leave to go find my sister." Hunter would walk back to the couch and sit and drink some of the tea. "This is good tea though, really good. Thank you."

[User]
When Jonah talked Mary looked at him while furrowing her brows. She still didn't know what to think of him. He talked to much and to her he was way too confident of himself. One that claims himself to have high intelligence wouldn't walk up to a group of people when one is holding a gun. She listened to the National Guard to, his answer was honest and raw to her. She wondered what had happened to him and watched as the soldier left and wondered what it was that made him shake. A smile played on her face a bit as Irene came back into the room and made a comment about lack of interest. Mary decided she should answer too. "I'm alive because I'm lucky," Mary said while shrugging her shoulders. The doctor in her was trying to diagnose the guard as he came back out but she merely blamed it on the fact that maybe he was hungry.

She looked at the herbal tea. With a small sigh, she dropped her hands to her sides and shrugged off her bag, placing it on the ground before walking over to the tea. She picked up a mug. "Thank you," she said to Irene.

[Assistant]
Hunter would look around at the collection of people, this has been the first group of people he has been with that hasn't tried to kill him in a long time. Too long for Hunter. How long would he stay with these people? He still had a goal, he needed to know about his sister, even though these seemed like people he could trust family came first.

Hunter would look out the window and realize it's starting to get dark. "Hmm, it's getting late, we should get some rest. I have one of the two guns." He would look at the group. "Or as far as I know, so i'll take first watch on the porch Irene's defenses should be fine but I don't want to take any chances, any objections?"

[User]
"I think it would be very helpful if I could go out at night, to scavenge the hardware store I mentioned. I'll be back within 3 hours, 8 minutes and 38 seconds. And I'll return with things you need. So, what do you need?"

Jonah took out his backpack, before placing all its contents on the kitchen counter.

"Excuse the mess. It's my dream that the frying pan is used every day."

It was light, clean, and solidly built. Its handle was made out of a blue, glassy plastic. It was the finest thing he had left after the world fell apart, and the closest he had to a memento for his parents... Leaving all his equipment behind with the group, he was nearly prepared to head out towards the hardware store.

[Assistant]
Irene sat with a doubtful expression but made her decision quickly. "As long as no one wrecks my house, my cacti or my gardens, or causes me harm, then you can all do what you want." She took a sip of her tea and cast a look around these strangers in her house. Tentatively she decided that Mary was probably her best bet at friendship, which unfortunately would be...new to her.

"You finding everything okay?" she asked. "Considering the situation."

[User] Hunter would look over to Jonah. "Nails, always have a use for them. Copper wire too if you find some. And if you find a battery that would help as well. Be careful at night though, it's a lot harder too see, and to see them." Hunter would walk onto the porch and sit down.

[Assistant] Mary sat down on the couch, comforted by Irene as she spoke to her directly. She sipped from the tea, it's warmth filled her up on the inside. She nodded as Irene asked her question. "I'm sorry for invading your home. I didn't mean to, I was just trying to find some food." She said as she crossed her legs and held he mug in both hands. She eyed Jonah as he stood up. Was he really going to go at night? She frowned a little but the soldier seemed to approve the plan. "Is it a wise plan?" She asked no one in particular.

[User]
Hunter would look into the darkness from the porch. It was calming to him, even with the infected outside, he had enough distance and it was dark enough he should be fine. He kept the gun in his lap, not really to use it but to make sure that no one else would try to use it on him or Irene, Irene was the only person he could trust so far. Plus using it on the infected with only three shots left wasn't a good idea. He had a suppressor in his bag for his rifle, but its use was going to be done soon. In the morning, one way or another, he needed to go out and grab his gear. he could have asked Jonah, But could he trust Jonah with his rifle? Or try to send him onto a highway where the infected could still be in thick numbers? It was better if he did it himself, even with his limp he stood a decent chance on his own.

The night air was still calming, though the min reason he was outside was he couldn't sleep. Too many nightmares about the refugee center. He wakes up at night, hearing the same three words before he wakes up. 'Fire, fire, fire!'. Sometimes he's the one holding the gun, the other times he's the one in it. Either way it always stopped there. He didn't have to be a doctor to know how ti was effecting him, More then likely he wouldn't get over the nightmares for a long time. he just hopes it doesn't get int he way of finding his sister...That's all that matters.

[Assistant]
Jonah left quietly, understanding that his plan for gaining the trust of the others failed. Perhaps he was more optimistic than he gave himself credit for? He took quick steps outside, taking a path far away from the crowd gathered in the streets. It didn't take long before he could see the hardware store of his dreams, across an empty street. Jonah was foolish enough to leave everything with the others, and he would be forced to enter the store without any tools. If there was a theft alarm, it could attract zombies from far away. Jonah quickly moved towards the hardware store, seeing a pack of nails by the door. An idea quickly formed in his mind.

It didn't take long for him to find a glass bottle. He crushed it under his thick boots, and used the glass to slowly slice through the window. It took a long time, but he finally managed to create a small hole in the window, and used it to take out some boxes of nails. After gathering those he could quickly find, and hearing the zombies gather behind him, he started returning to the others. He waited outside the door, quietly knocking as the zombies slowly came closer to him. He was ready to fight them with his backpack, though he hoped not to use it.

[User] Hunter guessed he was too quiet on the porch, he looked to his side to see Jonah. He would speak quietly. "Hey, stay calm, stay quiet, they'll leave. Just...don't panic." Hunter would go back to staring into the darkness. "Maybe 4 of them. Not too bad, but should stay quiet at that."

[Assistant]
Jonah jumped onto the porch. He smiled after returning to the safety of the group, bringing with him a few boxes of nails. There were at least a few hundred nails, and he spread the boxes across the floor.

"That supply run went fantastic. I nailed it!"

[User]
"I hella don't think it's a wise plan," said Irene. "But they can all do what they want. If that crazy Jonah dude gets himself ripped to shreds and turned into a midnight snack, that's his issue, not mine," she informed Mary, thinking that the girl had asked her. "How's the tea?"

She jumped at the sound of a knock on the door and slowly opened the door for...oh, he was alive. And he had nails, which would absolutely come in handy! She may have thought the man was insane, but she had to give it to him- going to the hardware, stealing such valuable tools and coming back so quickly? She was impressed.

Keeping her voice critical, she said, "You'll want some rest after that adventure."

[Assistant]
"I don't want rest. I want food, now! And I think I deserve some, although I wouldn't trust myself doing the cooking right now..."

Jonah slowly walked to the couch, and closed his eyes when he reached it.

"I need rest, but want food. I think that's what I tried to say..."

Jonah continued, before closing his eyes again.


[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Appearance:

With an average figure, Dahlia has retained a surprising amount of muscle underneath a layer of fat. In fact, in a library filled with nerds, Dahlia would probably be the strongest one there (which isn't saying much). A long-term diet of lifting up massive bundles of books and an unhealthy cycle of fasting and binging had left Dahlia with an unexpectedly healthy body. Her skin is pale from not going outside for months at a time. Despite her horrible habits, she is surprisingly well groomed. After all, she has to be well groomed in order to protect those ancient books from mold and mildew.

When she leaves the library, she wears thick clothes that covers almost all of her skin. Even in the dead heat of summer, she'll refuse to let any dust touch her skin. Even though she's a fledgling adventurer, her clothes are considerably more expensive than her contemporaries. After all, being a librarian and protecting years worth of knowledge tended to pay more than killing goblins.

Height: 5'8"
Weight: 160 pounds.
Eye color: Dark grey
Hair color: Black

Personality:
Dahlia is a bit of an eccentric. On the outside, she appears to be a bit of a klutz that can barely trudge through social interactions. It'd be more accurate to say that she has a different rhythm compared to most people. Her sense of timing is, compared to the average person, highly precise yet entirely inaccurate. When she talks about her interests, she can rattle off dozens of interesting tidbits and facts, but she struggles to talk about topics that she holds zero interest in. Her primary obsession that drives her to dive into the dungeon is her encyclopedia; all she wants is to catalog every single monster inside the labyrinth. In essence, Dahlia is a theory first, practice second woman. With her immense theoretical knowledge on many things, she tends to absolutely moff up everything in practice.

Likes: Trying new things, writing, realistic drawings, verifiable conclusions that can be repeated, books, good organization, and cleanliness.
Dislikes: Mold, mildew, illiterate people, artistic licenses, ambiguity, the sun, things that are truly random, and poorly kept records.
Hobbies: Recordkeeping and collecting books.

Background:
Born in Orario, Dahlia wasn't an adventurer until she was solidly an adult. In fact, since she was a child, she helped take care of the vast amounts of literature held within Orario. A scholarly sort of girl, she spent her life around books rather than people. These books shaped Dahlia; she spent all of her youth learning what was contained in those books that she cared for. Manuals on combat? Read. Monsters? Burnt into her head. Romance novellas? Seared deep within the confines of her mind, but there for sure.

But a deep lack of knowledge filled her with disdain. The books that she loved so much weren't infallible. Terrible blights such as poor record keeping, incorrect information, and inaccurate photos plagued these books. Spurred by this lack of perfected knowledge, Dahlia had decided to enter the dungeon using what wages she had collected from her time as a scholar. She would create her encyclopedia, chronicling every monster and floor that one could encounter.

And really, that's all there was to Dahlia's motives. She was just a girl with a dream to make a book.

Wallet:
- 800 Valis

Parameters & Skills:

Level: 1
Achieved Floor: 0
Class: Mage
Affiliation: TBA

Equipment:
- Dense, unrevealing, and expensive clothes
- Well-maintained shortsword
- Okay-ish dagger
- Incredibly large, empty book & pen

Stats:
•Strength: I
•Endurance: H
•Dexterity: H
•Agility: I
•Magic: H

Basic Skills:
Expanded Mind

Development Skills:

Spells:

[User]
Outside of Warrior's Rest, Athena Familia's home.

"What're ya doing?" A sudden voice piped up from behind the girl in thick clothes who was pacing back and forth outside the villa.

It belonged to a very short, very inquisitive looking young girl... No, a pallum, who was busy holding two large bags, one in each hand. They were somewhat scraping against the road though, on account of her short statue and them being rather large. They seemed to be filled with a variety of thing, from vegetables and fruits to what looked like glass jars of who-knows-what and even some glass-wares. Still, the chestnut-haired pallum had seemingly forgotten all about her luggage and was busy focusing all her attention on the human lady infront her.

"Ya lost? Main street's over that-a way, ya know." The shorty said, pointing a luggae-hauling arm over back over in the dirction of another street a ways away. Lowering her arm, she smiled happily. "Don't go getting lost, yeah? Might run into ne'er-do-wells who'll gobble a pretty face like yours right up." She laughed, at this prospect which was not in the least bit funny.

She then hoisted the bags back an inch or so above ground and began to move again - towards the villa with the banner of Athena on it. It was only once the pallum had passed by the human however, that it became obvious. She had an Athena emblem too! Attached to her cloak... Which was an odd choice, since most people carried them somewhere on the front of their bodies, for ease of noticing...

Northern Orario.

"Uhm, wait, what? What's this about a Familia?" The boy tried to make sense of what the gargantuan man-beast had just said, but it was hard to focus when you were basically being kidnapped and headed for gods-know-where without any way to resist. His sister, far more frightened, could only clutch onto the giant's shoulder - and hair - in an attempt to keep herself from losing her balance.

"L-listen, Mister! Our mom took us here to meet someone, but we got seperated. She doesn't belong to a Familia!" The lad protested, trying his best to explain what had happened, and why the sudden decision to go look for one of the many Familia in Orario would not yield mother-related results.

A bunch of passerby's were now whispering, some pointing, and casting worried glances at the giant man with two, nearly crying, children on his shoulders... Children who looked nothing like him at all...

[Assistant]
Normally, people who walked away from a bet with not a single Vallis left to their name would do so with a downcast, or perhaps even furious, demeanor. The Amazoness, however, walked away in much the same mood as she had arrived with. She still walked with a confident pep in her step, marveling at the sheer size of the labyrinthine city and the sheer number of people within it. Since she was broke, though, she did think it important to focus on joining a familia sooner than later in the day - it would be annoying to have to venture out of the city to go hunting and camping again simply because she didn't have money on hand.

So, she followed the advice she was given and kept an eye out for manor like buildings with banners and other such signs. The first one she tried, as it turned out, did not explore the dungeon at all and were not warriors - an honest mistake that was brushed off with some mutual laughs and well wishing as she went on her way to the next one. Paradoxically in her eyes, said next one didn't accept applicants that approached their doors and instead only scouted out people they were interested in themselves. Foolish, since by the time she was a famous adventurer they might approach she would already have joined a wiser familia than theirs, but she simply shrugged and continued on.

Unfortunately, the attempts after that were even worse:
"You're not an adventurer yet? Come back when you've actually been in the Dungeon, assuming you don't die first!"
"You'll have to pay a five thousand vallis membership fee if you want to join!"
"You're not even leveled yet? We don't accept new members under level three!"
"Your kind isn't welcome here, Amazoness!"
"You're broke? So, what, you just want to mooch off us? Come back when you have a job and can actually contribute!"

Among others were similar reasons - some only accepted locals from Orario itself, or from other regions. One was dwarf-only, and so on and so forth. Being turned away time after time was getting tiresome, but there were so many future options she simply dismissed it as bad luck at first. Surely she would start coming across familia who didn't care about such things. And she did, but... In some ways, their complaints were even worse.

Some rejected her over being skimpily dressed, to put it in far more polite terms than they themselves had. Others threw her out the moment they saw that the... Blessings, so to speak, of their Captain or Goddess were paltry compared to her own! What was wrong with her manner of dress? Some Amazoness dressed in an even more revealing way than she did! Although under the initial irritation, she did find it oddly flattering to be a target of such blatant envy and jealousy from familia Captains and Goddesses - a single silver lining in her disheartening experiences so far.

None of those, however, were as bad as the single worst and most insulting reception she had received:
"Did you find that spear somewhere and decide to try adventuring on a whim? You've got way too much meat on your bones to be fit for it!"

It took every last ounce of self control she had to simply storm out instead of actually losing her temper. Stomping through the city streets, the Amazoness was in as foul a mood as she had ever been in. The crowd around her gave a wide berth - they didn't want to accidentally bump into or otherwise set off someone so clearly irate. Clutching her spear so tightly in one hand her fingers hurt, jaw clenched just as tight, she could only fume over the sheer gall of calling her weak, dismissing her training, and insulting her figure all in one breath.

Not helping matters was that she had been at her search for quite awhile now, stopping at each and every familia along the way until she had gone from the south side of the city all the way to the north. She was getting tired, and hungry, and all together just feeling disappointed and frustrated - she wasn't as skilled as she had thought, the familia had far more arbitrary conditions than she expected, and she had never been more brazenly insulted in her life! Perhaps she should simply venture into the Dungeon on her own for the time being, to renew her income and prove those that had scorned her wrong?

She had half a mind to try that course of action... But no, that seemed foolish at this point. There were still more familia to try! Where was it one of the girls with 'Fastest Hands in Orario' had suggested she try? The north-west? Perhaps they had known full well how the familia between here and there were, and she should have simply gone straight to the one they recommended and saved herself some time and grief?

With a long, deep breath, the Amazoness did her best to perk herself up as she headed to the north-west part of Orario in search of the suggested familia. Hopefully this one would be different.

[User]
"Eh?" A confused Dahlia sputtered as she leapt from being startled. She'd been ganked from behind by a mid- pallum. One that looked incredibly busy, judging by the large bag she carried on each hip. She had given directions to main street, but main street wasn't exactly where Dahlia wanted to be. It was much too dirty, what with all of the foot traffic there. Punctuating her directions with calling Dahlia pretty and implying something bad might happen to her here was lost on Dahlia's mind. Really, it just went straight over her head. Instead, Dahlia began to sputter in her own confusion as the pallum walked away.

No, she couldn't let it end here. She needed to bite her tongue until it bled! Wait, that was an allegory for something else. She had to join a familia, so she would start here! She bore the crest of the familia outside. Perhaps this was meant to be her entry in!

"Wa-wait!" She called out to the pallum. "I'd like to, er, apply to your familia." She paused for a brief moment, staring down the pallum as she realized that she missed out on a crucial step. As though a literal candle had been lit over her head, she pulled out her book before turning to the very first page. Inside, a single loose piece of paper that had been filled with writing.

"Here's my application," she said, "may I ask that you bring it to your god?"


[System]
Age 16-17 (turns 17 in Sept of her senior year)
Height 5'6"
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue (very intense)
Clothes: Looked like something she got at Goodwill when she first arrived in her junior year. These earned her the nickname Junkyard Jane. Junkyard Jane was also a new Marvel Superheroine after she got permission to use Marvel characters in her recycling ad posters she started putting up at school - from Stan Lee himself. She used her own face for Jane and looked like a salvage yard version of Wonder Woman.

She has a tendency to go with jeans, or blue jean looking blues like the shirt above. Also will get a brown leather jacket for cooler weather, maybe a jean jacket.

Jewelry and Tattoos: None
Scars: Covered with them. Most small ones have faded in the past year or she uses makeup. Looks like she might have tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists - straight across and jagged. Not true. Gang tried to kill her and she ended up in a bad accident. (hit by a truck and a police car.)

Her class schedule is:
Independent Study Music
Environmental Science
Horticulture
Study Period
Lunch
English (Advanced Composition)
PE

Personality and interests
General:
Quiet unless she has been triggered by a dislike
Workaholic mentality (this includes homework)
She avoids social media for the most part, though she can't completely avoid it given her blogging. She's a bit of a hippie / treehugger. She is not in the slightest bit squeamish about gutting a fish ... and laughed herself silly watching an episode of TBBT where Penny is teaching how to bait a hook and gut fish to the boys.

Likes:
Health nut (won't drink sodas, eat junk food)
Jogging
Rock Climbing
Swimming
Computers (building and coding)
Recycling
Digital photography and video
CGI fantasy art
Blogging
Writing

Dislikes:
SJW's
Cyberbullies
Bullies in general
Gangs (especially hispanic)
Drugs, smoking, alcohol

Quirks:
Thinks Vegans are silly. ("Pass me the A1.")
OCD (not extremely so. She's not like Sheldon from TBBT. But her books are arranged on shelves by subject, alphabetized. When she buys groceries she organizes everything in neat rows and in set number - like 4 of everything. If bored she'll start organizing everyone else's stuff.)
Writes in calligraphy. Sometimes uses words that most people have to look up in dictionaries.

Phobias
Demophobia, mild
Arachnophobia

Background
Diane came from a large military family - or rather was adopted into one as a stepchild. By default, large meant poor. After all, the government didn't issued families. On their fixed income, while dealing with medical issues and the costs of constantly moving from base to base life was tough. One had to learn to adapt to survive. It didn't help that her mother little better than trailer trash. It didn't help that her stepbrother and stepsister into everything their father forbade - gangs, drugs. He assumed she was too.

Last summer her stepbrother and stepsister were both killed by a rival gang. At least that was the rumor. The same gang broke into her home and killed her mother and two younger half brothers. Her father was on tour overseas at the time and never made it home.

She moved to Rome, GA where she lived next door to a salvage yard with foster parents. At least that was the rumor. The truth was that she was Emancipated and RENTED them. She also worked for them as their IT department and had begun to turn into their Marketing Manager. She found them through their attempt to become foster parents or even adopt which was being very slow to approve.

Skills / Training:
Diane abounds with creative talent. She is also a very talented hacker, though she doesn't like to abuse her skills. She customized her own laptop and can build her own motherboard from scraps. She has a photographic memory and speed reads. Her vision is 20/10 and 20/13 (left and right eyes). She has perfect pitch. She got her GED at 14, but never told her parents. She didn't feel ready to face the adult world - and her stepfather would have used it as an excuse to make her life more of a living hell.

She is a self-published author (fantasy and science fantasy - under a penname)
She is a professional blogger (writing, music, art, naturalist training)
Vlogging (linked to her Blogging - music) she never appears in her own videos
Graphic artist - especially computer fantasy art

Music is just a passion, not something she plans on for a career
Guitarist (started when she was 12)
Keyboard (started at 13)
Singer (started training at 14)

Amateur Naturalist (her best terrains are what you'd find in the Southwest USA, though she also learned a bit in Florida and GA)
Amateur Lapidary (mostly works in metals like precious metals)

Languages: (She learns new languages FAST)
Cherokee
Japanese
Latin
Greek
Middle Irish (dead language, so speaking really isn't accurate)
Manx and Scottish Gaelic
Sign Language (still learning but pretty skilled)
Lip Reading (not as good as her Sign)
Lots of computer languages

MMA training (short courses taught various bases her stepfather was stationed at)
MMA training the last year (taught by her limo driver / bodyguard)
Weapon training - Rifle (USMC sponsored course at Kirtland AFB)
Weapon training - Pistol (past year - indoor training by her limo driver / bodyguard)
Kendo - should be listed under things she sucks at
Fencing - see Kendo

Stuff she sucks at:
Trig and Calculus. (She is great with statistics and boolean algebra - math for computer logic.) Sucks here means a B student rather than an A.

Gear:
Very high end ASUS gaming laptop, highly customized.
Digital video camera
Multispectral camera (not video - still only)
CSR-PRO (used for detecting bugs - very professional gear) thespystore.com/image/cache/Counter S…
Guitars
Keyboards
Limousine and driver

At home
A small 'junkyard' of computer hardware that she scavenged.

Rental Family
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Jonathan and Isabelle Miller (Jonathan is retired USMC Age 44)
Son: David Age 12
Older Son: James Age 21 (not in photo Serving active duty USMC)
Two large black dogs (in photo) Sam and Dean (yes, the family are Supernatural fans)

Miller Home
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Diane has the west room

[User]
As Diane went off to talk to Troy, Sam returned the glare to Jessica, with interest. "What are you giving me that look for, Jess? I asked her to join us for two reasons. One, we could really use the members, and it's not like we're the sort of club that can put up flyers."

Her voice dropped low, almost to a whisper, but the other girls would definitely be able to tell she was excited. "Second, and far more important, she's the real deal. I could sense it about her, and if I could, you sure could. I think she's like that girl in the new Star Wars movies- she's sitting on a boatload of power, she just doesn't know it yet. We owe it to her to help her realize that power, reach her true potential." Sam wore a Cheshire Cat grin as she finished, "I think she'll be a real boon to our little coven."

[Assistant]
Eating his food rather quickly while jotting down a few things he overheard from the nearby conversation. He wasn't trying to ease drop, but they weren't exactly talking quietly or in code either. Jotting down a few things with his right hand while shoveling food into his mouth with the other. Before too long he was done with his food but still scribbling. Just random notes here and there. Occult, 233, Stacy, criminal, coven, Wicca, magic, stray dog, writing club, and Heather Daniels. He knew very well if he didn't write this down it would be forgotten.

Then something surprising happened while finishing jotting down a few more things. The new girl came over to his table and sat down with a smile. She seemed slightly nervous, but he couldn't make out why. She just sort of offered him some food asked him a question and left back to the other table before he could answer her with anything other than a curious look. He really needs to work on how other people perceive him. He doesn't want to be unapproachable after all. She didn't even give her name.

Then he suddenly jotted down all her question and worries, so he could answer them later. "Wiccan, or just a style thing?" was the question he wrote down. She seemed overly worried about her laptop, obviously it was precious to her. Expensive maybe or memories with no other copies. He was leaning more towards memories when his eyes settled back across the room. The popular kids were watching him and the other girls. Looking to the quarter back he gestured to his right shoulder and mouthed, "how's your arm?" other than a few dirty looks and rude gestures he received nothing else in return.

However, he now had the girls offering in front of him. The foreign sausage smelled wonderful, and he hadn't had too much in the way of southern foods. Forgoing the fork and just picking up the sausage with his hand he took one small inquisitive bite before devouring the sausage quickly. His high metabolism meant he was always warm and always hungry. At least that's what the doctors said was the cause of him being always warm. He took a moment to let his food settle while taking a few more notes and tucking his necklace back under his clothes.

[User]
The truth was - her laptop was both expensive and heavily customized. She had had some serious help with the customization that would be tough - not impossible - to repeat. So she resumed her place at the table, looking back at Troy and ducked her head in a smile as he chowed down on the boudin. Mom's cooking was great.

She had caught him saying something to the kids at the other table, but the angle was too oblique to tell what it was. But judging from the rude gestures and the indication Troy made to his arm she could guess what that was about. She smiled even broader. She knew she shouldn't. Violence never solved anything. Right.

"Where were we? Oh right, enough shit being thrown at you. Yeah, I get that. But one should also be ready to handle what people try to throw at them…" Diane's eyes were only semi focused, like she was somewhere o somewhen else…

The air became electric. They could feel it - all but Diane apparently. She seemed oblivious. Her awareness seemed to have stretched out to the whole room, maybe further. Then Ash and Troy saw it. Jess and Sam had their backs to the the source of the threat. The school's quarterback was cocking back his arm to throw his football. His aim was clearly targeting Diane, who seemed to have started making a couple notes. Then almost as suddenly she smiled and the lid started to close on her laptop.

For Ash and Troy the scene unfolded in slow motion. The power. Raw, untapped potential. This was the Law of Three. Karma. It was one of the greater powers. But the way she was using it, noone unawakened would recognize it for what it was. And she didn't even believe she had power. But it was unmistakable.

The football launched forward. It was Troy who had the better point of view who saw what was about to happen. The ball was gaining too much altitude. The guy had overcompensated for the mild injury to his arm and overthrown. But that wasn't the best part. The corners of Diane's lips quirked upwards as the lid on her laptop finished closing. Then her eyes started to widen in alarm as she spotted the incoming football.

Sam and Jess had the perfect seats to watch the finale. As he football sailed over their heads and the table they caught the eyes of Diane and Ash tracking the football. What neither saw was the teacher walking behind them with a tray of food. Bullseye. The football landed square in the center of the tray.

Then time resumed its normal course. Diane whirled about and stared. Then she smiled. "Well, I did warn them about Karma. Reap what you throw?" She spun back around. "So … 232 … right?" She glanced over at Troy and kneaded her right shoulder and grinned. Then she looked at Ash, blushing. She gave a puppy dog eye look. "He liked my Mom's cooking. Oh … and I might have a better place for you to meet if you prefer privacy - like lots of acres. Maybe that is something for the weekend. It's an old ranch. But I have permission from the owner to go camping or whatever."

Diane was completely ignoring the scene of the teacher raising his voice to tell the quarterback to head to the Dean's office.

+++++++++++++

Monday Aug 12, 2019
After School Room 232

(Holding up in case folks want to arrive first … or change up the location)


[System]
---

SETTLEMENT: Fireflies

AGE: 25

OCCUPATION: Dam Engineer

APPEARANCE: When he's not wearing his work clothes and helmet, he always wears a shirt with an old band's logo on it, sweatpants and his favourite red sweater, usually with the hood covering his face. He hates trimming his beard, so it is usually not long but unkept and not very pleasant-looking, and has short-ish black curly hair. He wears broken rectangular glasses with a thin frame, that he needs to see. He has a slim figure, with strong arms and a bit of a belly caused by all the drinking. His face is thin, with big brown/yellow-ish eyes and a squared nose, and it's more tan than the rest of his pale body due to his work.

FAMILY: Piero has a mother in the settlement, Chiara, but she's old and weak of health.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

FRIENDS: His best friend is The Damn Pub, as he spends most of the time there when he's not working. Of course he's in good terms with the bartender and some of the pub's mutuals. He mostly knows everyone, and will exchange courteous words with anyone, but he hasn't got any real friend, as he keeps himself distanced for fear of being judged of having a workless and 'useless' mother in the settlement. Piero has a good relationship with the guards that escort him, and he's grateful to them for providing protection and proud because his father was one.

HOBBIES: He loves drinking at the pub, darts, and writing. He also loves walking at night on the roof of his house, drowning in the silence.

BIOGRAPHY: Piero was born and raised in the Fireflies settlement. He was a late child, and his father and mother were already in their late adulthood when they had him. His father, Luis, was a loyal guard, and died later due to an ambush by the Roaches when he was out escorting the engineers to the dam. Chiara, his mother, went sick right after, and she wasn't in any condition to continue working as a cook. So Piero found himself needing to continue his studies as a dam engineer, as his father wished, and also covering for his mother's missed work, to continue earning their place in the settlement.

Piero lived his life studying and working as a cook, tending for his mother, too stubborn to ask for help, and too scared of people's judgement. He eventually became an engineer, and started working full time and more, loving his new job each day more because of the importance he seemed to have by doing it, and because he could just work all day, avoiding interaction as long as he could. He loves to do the dirty work in the dam, always stupidly risking to get injured.

As time passed and he grew over his twenties, that fear of being judged because of his mother turned into a gentle anger for his mother's health condition, and Piero started drinking more and more at The Damn Pub because of it. Intrusive thoughts of a better life without his mother in the way started to form in his mind, so he began to stay as far away from his mother for as long as he could during the day, giving her just the most essential attentions. This caused his mother Chiara to become weaker and to feel guilty about her condition. Piero deeply loved his mother though, but he doesn't think he can connect with her again because of her doubts and contempt about life he himself caused, and began to feel a lot worse, working harder and giving more of his food and water to his mother, without her knowing.

He only had his work to think about. That was until the lovers' event came to be, and accidents started to happen at the dam, threatening his only passion. Piero once couldn't care less about the politics of the settlement, but he's now starting to hate Waterleaf and his people more and more, even irrationally hating his co-workers that weren't from Firefly.
He is now ready and willing to give everything to stop anyone from taking his only way of distracting himself, and of keeping his mother alive.

[User]
"I'm serious, it was your best work yet!" Dillan tried his best to convince his little sister as she looked up at him with a pouty glare while he helped her with her dark brown hair that had just been cleaned thanks to her attempts of making him breakfast. "Maybe don't cake the kitchen with flour next time, but still it was very good," he assured her with his best fake smile. Emma crossed her arms with a huff and looked away from him.

"Then why did you hack up a lung the second you took a bite?" she asked with a annoyed mutter. Dillan cringed and held back a nervous chuckle as he tried to get her curly hair out of a knot.

"Well, um, I just never had that much salt in my pancakes is all," he chuckled nervously, but flinched as he saw her scowl deepen in her mirror and the tension grow in the air. He let out a heavy sigh as he knew he wasn't getting out of the hole he dug for himself. "Look it was a nice gesture Emma, but I said I'd help you learn to cook if you wanted," he said as he finally unraveled her hair and started to put it into a ponytail, though he was forced to stop as she turned to him with the same pointed glare and pouty expression.

"I can learn myself, just like you did!" she declared with confidence. Dillan arched an eyebrow as he turned her back around and continued with her hair.

"There's a difference though. I had to learn by myself because no one else showed me, you have me here to help you," he said with a small smile as he finished her ponytail. "Come on, I'll show you a few tips later tonight when my shift ends," he offered as he rose from his knee and looked to his watch. "Come on now, get changed for school and I'll walk ya halfway to school," Dillan walked out to let her change and after a few minutes she emerged in her usual attire. A yellow T-shirt with a green flannel, a pair of tan boxer shorts and dirty sneakers. Dillan raised an eyebrow as he saw a few bandages on her knees and sighed. She must have been getting into trouble again. He kept it to himself though, knowing she was smart enough not to leave the settlement.

With the same pout on her face Emma avoided eye contact and snatched her stuff before marching out of the house with a huff. Dillan shook his head with a small smirk and followed her out as he pulled on his gloves. The two walked through the streets in silence, Emma making sure to avoid any contact with her brother and Dillan simply trying not to sour her mood even further. Though as a group of guards walked past the two, clearly from the night shift from the tired expressions on their faces Emma's sour look dulled slightly before she glanced over to Dillan. "Will... Will you have to leave because of this whole mess between our settlement and the Water Leafs?" she asked, her pouty look still on her face, but her eyes soften with what only could be called worry. Dillan glanced back to the group of guards before looking back at his sister. A small frown came to his face as he saw the look on her face and sighed. He didn't want to tell her, but he also didn't want to lie.

"I honestly don't know Em, I hope not, but right now things are kinda hot," he admitted but quickly placed a hand on her shoulder for comfort. "I promise though, that no matter what happens I'm gonna always come back. Okay?" Emma stared at her brother to see if he was just trying to say what she wanted to hear, but after a few seconds she scoffed and shrugged off his hand from her shoulder as her usual pouty look returned.

"Well even when you do come back, you'll just make fun of my cooking!" she huffed. Dillan chuckled and patted the top of her head, always amused when she tried to act tough and grown up.

"I'm heading off now Emma, head to school and have a good day. I'll see ya when I get off," he said before parting ways with Emma as they both reached the town square. Emma sighed as she watched her older brother march off towards his post. She knew he meant what he said, but she couldn't help but feel worried. Before she could linger in her thoughts though she heard her teacher call out to her. She smiled and nodded as she ran towards her.

"Sorry, I was just walking with my brother," she apologized as she joined the gathered children and awaited for her day to start.

Meanwhile Dillan marched towards his post with a frown. He hated to see his sister so worried for him, but he knew she was tough for her age. With a groan he cracked his neck and entered his post. A few of his fellow guards greeted him with tired mummers and grunts, Dillan doing the same. He climbed up to a higher point in his post and as he got to the top he saw Lee had already arrived. "Morning," he grunted as he took a seat across from him and rested his M14 on his lap before looking out towards the outside of the settlement. "Ready for another exciting day?" he asked, his sarcasm nearly oozing from his tone as his frown only deepened.

[Assistant]
Marcus Bellamy

---

The air was cool; thick with fog and general stickiness of morning humidity, enough to make it hard to breath and bring any strenuous physical activity down a notch. Beads of sweat rolled down the man's face, only to be patted away by an old white t-shirt pulled from the back pocket of his running shorts, making room for several more to well up from his pores and roll across his skin once again.

But, it wasn't every day that an early morning jog around the inside perimeter of the settlement went according to plan. If it wasn't weather conditions, it was economic. In fact most mornings were usually half that distance -or less- just due to blockades of certain areas being under construction, or flooded for a number of reasons. There was an unusual stench that permeated at times within sections of the compound that could possibly be from sewage backup, or dead animal carcasses disposed of in the wrong way, or simply the ever-growing vermin problems.

Rats. Especially rats.

Marcus did his best to push away the random thoughts which consistently invaded his mind whether he wanted them there in the first place or not. An economy that has its ups and downs and the stacking problems and tensions that citizens of Fireflies were having to experience for the last month since the accident at the Dam. And yet what about those living within Water Leaf? Those young and old who were considered friends and -to some degree- family for generations, all the while strengthening the infrastructure of a society already on the fringe of collapse and outside threats.

But it that hadn't been bad enough, that nagging guilt of the night his uncle came to his rescue, put himself in harm's way because an adolescent boy wanted to be an "adventurer". The end result was a very dead relative and nothing to show for it but pain and anguish within his side of the family. Maybe they didn't say it aloud, but Marcus knew they thought it: He was responsible.

The toll emanating from the central clock tower pulled Marcus from his otherwise over-extended reverie, which was a good thing considering he may have continued his run for an endless amount of time just to clear his head. Oddly enough, the man didn't let much bother him, especially in his line of work essentially overseeing the welfare of a society. But the tensions rising up in small pockets were hard to ignore, as reminders seemed to be everywhere…

---------------------

"How are you feeling, hon?"

"Like shit warmed over." A low, raspy voice from under the covers said. "But, thanks for asking."

"Doc Lasco says you should be fine in a couple of days as the virus works its way out." Marcus pulled the light tan covers from over his wife's pale face, and ran his fingers through her short, auburn hair, taking care to untangle any strands along the way.

"Oh great, so I get to vomit up what little I can eat?" She shot him a wry grin. "That's great news."

Sick or otherwise, Mila's sarcastic brand of humor never failed, but that was also her way of dealing with an illness that has otherwise kept her bedridden and feeling terrible for almost a week. Whatever the virus was, it has started shortly before that, hitting a handful of children first and then a few adults, as cases were being reported from one end of the settlement to the other. Most within Fireflies assumed it was Water Leaf causing it, but when their citizens started showing signs, those rumors began to die down. Either way, Marcus had to work closely with the medical staff as they continued investigating the source.

Smiling back at his beautiful bride of seven years, he planted a kiss on her clammy forehead before heading into the washroom for a long awaited shower.

[User]
Night shifts: the only part of the job that Piero hated. Work was fine and engaging as usual, but at that late hour it usually meant that people would just whine more about everything.
While he was escorted by the guards from the dam to the settlement, he couldn't believe the nerves that one of the Waterleaf's engineers showed by accidentally taking his tools without asking first, and his colleagues had to avoid another 'accident' from happening at the dam by holding him when he found out.
Piero himself noticed that things were starting to escalate at an alarmingly growing pace at the dam, especially because he was one of the hot-headed ones that bore a newfound hatred for the other settlement, and that made him a target of pranks at his expense, sometimes innocent and sometimes he wasn't sure if they were just 'pranks' or plain sabotage.

He just couldn't wait to come home to that bottle he'd been dreaming about all night while working, to help him with his new anger problem and to help him sleep through his mother's moans, as her pain seemed to only grow and grow each day.

Cold breeze and fog had always helped him in calming down, and today was not an exception. It was a strangely peaceful morning, and with the heavy tension after the lovers' accident, it was not to be taken for granted. Given this rare circumstance, Piero took the longest route around the settlement to get home, mindlessly observing the surroundings.
He saw an off-duty guard doing his morning jog.

 Maybe I should start exercising too. Healthy mind in a healty body is what they always used to say, and right now I haven't got either.

After passing through the nicest part of the town, he then got to his neighbourhood, not the worst one, but definitely run-down. As soon as he entered his house, Piero was greeted by loud moans, as his mother tried to raise her hand to greet him.
 "Good morning to you too, Ma. Have you gotten any sleep at all?"
Chiara whispered, with a very feeble voice: "No."
 "Today I'll try to have the doctor to come see you. Eat something, I'm going to sleep."

Piero took the liqueour bottle from the shelf and went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and crawled onto the sofa, fully knowing he wasn't going to be able to get any sleep.

 This is going to be a long day.