[System]
"Got creds, will travel - on your creds. Half down."

______________________________________ | ______________________________________

G E N D E R :

Male

A G E :

32

O C C U P A T I O N :

Mercenary, sniper

A P P E A R A N C E :

Dark blonde sun-streaked long wavy hair, blue eyes, light beard, 6'7"; typically wears large, loose tees with form fitting jeans and black boots - always with his leather riding-style black jacket w/ hood (weather dependent)

H O M E P L A N E T :

Pelorum, Aphrodite - some Bellerophon; Valentine; Silverhold

S K I L L S E T :

Comes from Money: Schmoozing (begrudgingly), Observation/Recon/Research, Long-range Combat, Tactical (socially and professionally)

E Q U I P M E N T :

sniper rifle, gun cleaning kit, camouflage duds, personal cortex, microtransmitter

P E R S O N A L I T Y :

Tries to remain impartial and easy-going, but can be riled up if the right buttons are pushed; has a somewhat insatiable disposition for carnal pleasures so that he will earn enough credits to spend it all on a good time rather than waste material possessions; only really serious about his work when he is on the job, but doesn't curb his humbleness on how good he is at it; only takes on jobs against the entitled or oppressive; has a live-easy, but to the fullest; likes to put on the mask that he can't resist a pretty face and is a sucker for praise to get people to trust him or think he is shallow; has a problem with absolute authority or anything that tells him how to act or behave - will act against it for the sake of it depending on how oppressive the adversary is in their 'rules; sees rules more like guidelines and may or may not follow them if he disagrees; values experience over academic achievement

B I O :

Growing up wealthy with a home on two worlds could leave most with a sense of entitlement, and that was certainly the case with the handsome young Kinneas Revas. Born into a family firmly established in the mining wealth of the border planets, overseen at a distance, Kinneas wanted for nothing. He was shepharded from Pelorum to Aphrodite on the whims of his father's fancy.

The first rift to his overly privileged lifestyle came when he discovered his mother was actually a concubine when his actual wife was scheming to upturn her husband's entire way of life. The agreement would be that The Child stay on Bellerophon with his mother, well kept and swept under a rug. The relationship with his father was neatly sliced away as well in that stroke of diplomacy but his teenage rebellion later made things stray back into choppy waters for them all.

Kinneas was not denied the life he'd learned to live though, and grew into somewhat of a known figure in the high society of Bellerophon as a pretty face. He'd grown up handsome as his father with his mother's fair features, and all the years of observing his father had him know how to play that card well. Bellerophon was meant to be a testing phase before he returned to his true place in society. His father's wife caught wind of this, however, and he was shipped to Valentine as the lesser of two evils: either he and his mother would be destitute or he'd enlist in the military to teach him some much-needed discipline - and to learn his place, of course.

Military life did nothing to change his disposition, however. He took an honorable discharge at the cost of his family name he used to pay for it with when he refused to fall in line - the final straw being his absolute refusal to join the Unificators, which he should have taken as an honor and privilege. Instead, he told him what he thought of their idea of honor and privilege and that was that.

Unable to return to Bellerophon, he took a ship to Silverhold to oversee a mining operation - the last kindness his father could allot. While there, he found more enjoyment in time at the bars with the locals and soon fell in with some mercenaries that made more credits running jobs than he would a year at the mines. That military training had come in handy, got them out of some sticky spots. They made a pretty decent name for themselves on the border planets, his free time spent reveling in the fruits of his labor in the form of the variety of vices he once enjoyed. Life was going real nice until a job turned south, and Kinneas was the only one left. Since then, he hasn't stuck with the same team for more than one job. Easier to maintain his lifestyle that way without getting all the pesky feelings that killed his vibe.
  |

| Jago Deckkard | The worst conversationist I've ever met. |
| --- | --- |

| Tim Casey | Only sane one on the ship, and isn't half bad. |

| Enid Prichard | Doc's quirky, but decent. |

| Vas Jat | The kid - he makes it easy. |

| Serena Jat | A whole basket short of a picnic but keeps things interesting. |

| Kinneas Reed | Winning smile and great head of hair. |

|
|  |
|  ______________________________________

[User]
Mi Galley es Su Galley Part 5
Lunar Veil | Galley
Summary
Kinnease finally comes out of his room, shares a drink and a game of tall card with Tim.

|
  |
  |
| --- | --- |

"Then I claim tall." Kinneas said, his jaw setting a little as he thought more than he shared. He blink it away once with a smile returning, leaning back slightly. It was done in sequence with the hand he looked at, but other thoughts were at play. "The Skyes talked me up, huh? I'll have to remember that. Got a card to swap, two actually."

"Two for the player, dealer takes three," Tim decided. "They're good people. I mean, for bad people, depending on what lens you're looking through. Fox wouldn't keep 'em around otherwise. And he wouldn't be so concerned 'bout clearing your name if he didn't think you were good people. And Fox wouldn't keep sendin' work our way if he didn't think kindly of us. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that everyone Fox works with gets along, but he's pretty thorough 'bout vetting people out. 'Sides, it's a big boat. Plenty of elbow room for everyone."

"So you're saying to play it like cards." Kinneas said slowly, laying down four shiny dragons and the berries. "Play the hand you're dealt strategically the best you can and hope luck's on your side for the rest."

"I'll throw in a sugar scrub," Tim said, laying out a cratemaker countdown. "And I'll be honest, I wasn't sure where I was going with that or if I was making any sort of metaphor, but sometimes I get lucky."

"Lucky sans sugar scrub. Guess it can be a peace offering for the kid." Kinneas said, finishing off his decidedly last glass. If he had any more, he'd probably go make things worse when it was starting to look marginally better. "Going to need it if I'm putting off finding that rich old lady on Pelorum for now." He picked up his glass, motioning to Tim's in asking if he were done, to be washed. He glanced at the chore list in passing, one he'd pointedly ignored until now. "Gotta say, half this stuff, you all would regret me doing and the other half I've never done."

"You can mark your name down for Trash detail, owe you that fair and square. My advice, never sign up for anything with an L - Latrine, laundry, pass. Never wash dishes if drying is an option, there's more dignity in drying."

Standing and focusing on the list, Kinneas started to feel those three drinks turn his brain as he read what passed as usual ship chores. Sweeping up the cargo bay and cleaning the toilets writing in utilitarian scrawl were a big 'no thanks.' He wrote a captain 'K' next to trash. "Dishes aren't so bad - but I'm guessing laundry is mass done to save on water? That's unfortunate. I'd rather not deal with anyone else's dirty sheets. Yours included, ace, and you seem best stocked on hygiene products."

 "No offense taken," Tim chuckled, putting the deck aside. "I seen what goes on in my bunk. I do my own laundry, my shorts are my business, and anything that close to my best bits, I don't entrust my crown jewels to just anyone. Breakfast isn't a bad gig if you're an early riser. I've made Tim Toast Tuesdays a staple."

[Assistant]
Mi Galley es Su Galley Part 6
Lunar Veil | Galley
Summary
Kinneas finally comes out of his room, shares a drink and a game of tall card with Tim.

|
  |
  |
| --- | --- |

"Toast? Éryǐ? (That's it?)" Kinneas chuckled, his brows knit as he attempted to focus to see who had signed up for what. Trash was a free pass, but he had to figure out when this list went up for next time - if there was a next time. "Still, more than I know how to do." Recalling he had a glass in his hand, he went on his way to the sink again. "That's one of those things everyone will regret if I get assigned to."

"Bread, toaster, press a button, pretty genius if you ask me," Tim said with a chuckle. "Besides, this is a Firefly. Open a can, heat, serve. Meals Ready to Eat, Protein paste, there's not much you can do to make 'em taste worse. That's why you'll see the first thing we do when we paid dockside? You go out and eat like a king."

"Ah, that I can do." Kinneas said, not exactly enthused. His previous life included a chef on his father's boat where he'd always eaten like a king and he'd heard tales of Fireflys that were inexplicably well stocked with an abundance of rare treats. Not that he was hopeful for this one. The last twenty-four hours had taught him not to bother. "But, I warned you - I burn most things I've tried, and there's been attempts at ready-made. Usually, stick to protein powder after burning that paste… it was quite possibly the worst fucking thing I smelled in my life."

"Easier to drink in the cockpit," Tim said agreeably. "We make do. That's why the apples are all gone.."

"You know, you have to be the most agreeable guy I've ever met." Kinneas laughed as he sat the washed glass alongside the cup and plate from earlier. "This ship has some interesting Qi going on, that's for damn sure."

"I'm much more contrary once you get to know me," Tim replied with a grin as he stood up to stretch his back. "Plenty of people on the boat happy to oblige if you're looking for a fight, but If you're looking for a drink, I'm usually in the cockpit. I'll see what I can dig up by way of some comforts of home and have pigtails drop 'em off."

"That actually doesn't sound half bad." Kinneas mused as he returned to the damnedable chore list only to give it the side eye before leaning back against the wall. "Don't think I'm ready to be a cougar's kept wánjù (toy) just yet… so maybe I can stick around some."

[User]
Shared Space Part 1
Lunar Veil | Cargo Bay
Summary
Kinneas adjusts to his situation.

|
  |
| --- |

Though he was still wasn't one hundred percent sold on the idea of sticking with the motley crew that made up the Lunar Veil, Kinneas had not gotten off on the waystation between where they'd been when he woke up and New Kasmir. Instead, he'd spent the few days leading up to the final call weighing the pros and cons, and spending more time than usual on the cortex news waves. As of yet, his father had not made a statement despite all the attempts, but that wasn't surprising. Besides, anyone who'd ever crossed his path seemed more than willing enough to give character accounts, much to his amusement and annoyance.

Between that and the weight of the fluctuating con list, his options truly were limited. Sure, he had contacts, but so far nearly all of them told him to stay where-ever he was. That just happened to be with the most dysfunctional family-type he'd ever come across, which he didn't share even with those that came close to trusted friends. The mystery was more attractive than the truth, anyway.

Kinneas' only true hang-up had been how to get creds in this situation. The little he'd saved for downtime on Silverhold until the next job came along wouldn't last, and now he couldn't exactly go looking for another job with being a crazed arsonist and all. And his new captain hadn't quite let him speak for his skills that first day, so he was basically a freeloader at this point. It didn't bother him in the slightest given the ornery old man's demeanor, but that also meant no work aside from cleaning toilets - which he'd not been forced to do as of yet, thankfully.

Like a handful of times in his past, he felt out of options. Trapped, regardless of being free to leave - because he wasn't, not exactly. Rather than spending the remainder of the trip to New Kasmir in his head once they departed the satellite station with him still on the ship, Kinneas wasted time exploring the common areas of the ship. He took Tim up on the offer to stop by the flight deck if it was captain-free, and for a drink and hand of cards, but spent most of his time in the designated gym area once he discovered it.

Somewhere between then and touching down planet-side, Kinneas had a row with the laundry machine when his limited clothes ran low. He also regulated himself to trash duty and typically trailed in near the end of meal times to avoid any unnecessary extra time spent with half the crew. It was miserable - living on a ship, he decided on the seventh day. And so very boring. Granted, he was isolating himself for the most part, but pride and pettiness were still leading that decision. What he really needed was air - preferably salty sea air, but that wasn't an option just yet. Instead, he actually found himself looking forward to that earthy clear air of orchards despite himself and then shook away that notion. Fun was what he needed, not some bloody apple-scented air.


[System]
Age:
19
Gender:
Male
Appearance:

Though Lewis is capable of transfiguring his very looks, there's one form he sticks with normally. His default appearance, if you will. In this, he's a man of Vietnamese-Korean descent with pale skin and a lanky build, with very little muscle of fat on his bones. Standing at only 5'5", most would make the mistake of assuming Yung is younger than he really is. His hair is black with light hints of white laced inbetween strands. He keeps it long and disheveled. Partly because he can never find the time or money to style it, but mostly because he likes the 'rugged, wild youth' look, even if it makes him look somewhat of a hobo. His almond eyes are a rich, dark brown, dark enough to look black. Lewis holds a devil-may-care attitude towards his wardrobe. Not that it matters. Stylish clothes are a luxury he can't afford (literally). His clothing is composed of plain shirts, jeans, and jackets. Usually hand-me-downs and cheap buys from the local thrift store. The fanciest thing he owns is a silver, dove-shaped pendant that he never takes off, even when he changes his appearance.
Skills/Talents:
>Lying
>Pickpocketing
>Charming
>Acting
>Quick thinker
Brief Backstory:
Life wasn't just hard for Lewis. It was broken down apartment, share your clothes with your sister, no money for a meal difficult. But that's what happens if you're born in the Outer Ring. You suffer, you struggle, you survive. No questions asked, no complaints made. That's how things were. And the thing is, Lewis wasn't that mad about it. If he had to work, he worked. If he had to steal, he stole. Morals were only there to make him feel guilty for a second before moving on. His dad was some stranger who didn't even know he had a son, but y'know what? He didn't need one. He had his mom. He had his older sister. And that was enough.

But of course, that had to change.

Like everything, it started small. Lewis' sister, Sara, would be asleep in her room. The next morning they'd find her in the closet, confused but okay. The initial answer was simple: sleep walking.
Then it grew. It always did. She'd be sitting in the kitchen. One blink. Now she was sitting in her room. They would find her in the fridge, or hanging from the ceiling fan, or even on the roof. Sleepwalkers couldn't do that. Metahumans, teleporting metahumans, could. Lewis was fascinated. Their mother was in awe. The neighbors were terrified. A girl with that power could mean nothing but trouble, they whispered. Soon those whispers became rumors. She was dangerous. She was vicious. She was a monster that had to be stopped.

And so she was.

They came silently, like owls on the hunt. They swooped down in the middle of the night, slipping into the tiny apartment, leaving behind a broken corpse of a girl. She had been twelve, then. Lewis, ten. It wasn't until later that he learned to know and hate their name: The Pure.

The incident left his mother ill and silent, never leaving the house or speaking to anyone. Bills piled up. Food was scarce. Lewis needed a way to keep the remnants of his family behind.

The answer came when he woke up one morning with green eyes. No contacts. No surgery. Just a look in the mirror and there they were. Not dark, void black, but green. Brilliant, emerald green. Turns out Sara wasn't alone with her abilities. A bit of experimentation, a pinch of practice, and in a matter of time Lewis learned to control his newfound power. This time, however, he kept it a secret. There was no need for a repetition of the incident. He found stealing easier. Difficult cons now childsplay. Money, food, medicine for his mother. All of that came as easily as a drop of a hat.

Things haven't changed from then and now. Lewis still takes care of his ill mother, buying her what she needs with less than legal schemes. He's gotten involved with more than a few gangs and made quite a bit of unsavory deals, but hey. That's just how things are in Rivière.

Power Information
Power Class: Biological Super-System
Power:
Shapeshifting
Lewis is able to alter his cells, allowing him to completely change his appearance. Although he is able to change specific factors of his body (i.e. eye color, hair color, skin color etc), he specializes in full body mimicry. No matter the age or gender, he is able to copy others with simply a look.

Voice Mimicry
Along with appearance, Lewis can parrot the voice of whoever he wishes, granted he's heard the voice before. This aids in his disguises or tricking others through phone calls. Plus, it's really funny seeing people flip when a little girl speaks in a deep voice.
Limits:
Lewis is able to only alter living cells. Note the word 'living'. He can't will an open wound closed, or undo a bruise. Additionally, Lewis' transformations are far from perfect, and he can only copy from what he sees. If he sees only the face, then he can only do guesswork when trying to mimic the body or any minor details. His transformation time differs with the how much change he's undergoing. Small changes like hair color can last barely three seconds, but changing his entire body can last five to ten minutes depending on the size.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Believe it or not, but having your bones and muscles stretch can hurt. A lot. While eye and hair color involve an odd sensation at worse, processes that involve his body shrinking or growing drastically can leave him with an uncomfortable ache and drain his energy. Often times, full scale changing will leave him hungry and fatigued. Multiple major transformations in a short time span can actually cause bodily harm, or worse.

Relationships

Family:
Pam Yung -- Mother -- Alive
???-- Father -- ???
Sara Yung -- Sister -- Deceased

Dynamics:
Basically your character's relationship with other characters.

 {Character Name}  |  {Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral}  |  {Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)} | {Character Thoughts via in-character quote} |
-Description of Relationship here-

Other
* He's a nicknamer. Doesn't matter who, he will give them a nickname and stick with it.
* He's currently unregistered in the NEST database and prefers to keep it that way. Makes things a hell of alot easier.
* The pendant he constantly wears formerly belonged to his sister. It serves as constant reminder of her and the reason for his power's secrecy.

[User]
---

Jessica Sharon Rosefey.

---

Not only did she get a "discount," but the dude gave Jess the hotdogs for free!

"Sweet!" Jessica said as she jammed the money back into her pocket with a wide grin on her face. "You know how to make a country gal feel welcome! Thanks!" She said, cheerful as ever.

With her hands free, she grabbed the chili dog and took a bite. Pretty good, too. Looks like this guy knows his hotdogs! But! She has to get down to business! Jessica looked around as she was chewing the hotdog, and there wasn't a line to be seen. Which meant she had all the time in the world to chat up her new best friend. Now, she remembered that she mentioned that she wasn't from New Riviere. She didn't know how much about a hotdog vendor would know, but she had to start somewhere.

"Yeah, this festival's great." Jessica said. "Always hear about this festival in those commercials, y'know... what were they called? Oh, yeah, Girls Gone Wild!" She started laughing. A little joke to lighten the mood. She casually leaned over to the hot dog stand, placing one hand down on it for support, and looked at the Vendor (She should catch his name). "Despite a suspicious lack of ta-tas, this place is incredible. People are dancing, the foods smells incredible... and I'm standing here eating a hotdog. No offense." She chuckled a little more.

"Should go explore it some more - but, I'm actually on a mission," Jessica said. "I'm looking for a friend... that's going to do something really, really, dumb. Have you by chance seen a brown haired chick with a scarf built like a MMA fighter?" Jessica asked. "Doubt she'd swing around here - not being a fan of squirrels, raccoons, and possums rolled up into a wiener... No offense... but it's hard as hell to miss her."

Eyes were scanning the area. Being observant was never Jess' strong suit, but hell. Jessica was hoping that they get a lead on Olivia... after the festival. She intended on staying here from dusk to dawn (Or until they kick everyone out).

"Oh," Jessica almost forgot. "Where are my manners? I'm Jessica."

[Assistant]
---

Diana Lucker, & Wendy Lucker.

---

Thank God that Wendy had subdued the situation a bit.

Not that there was a situation in the first place, but still. Diana was a feisty one... and when she meets another of her kind; things tend not to end well. Last thing Wendy needed was NEST. So, the way things played out were for the best. The tall girl sighed. Then scratched the back of her neck - pushing some hair out of the way - while awkwardly smiling for a second. When she realized Diana was looking at her oddly.

"... Maybe you should get some glasses." Diana muttered under her breath with a devious grin on her face. Right when she got the last word out of her mouth, Wendy had nailed her in the side with her elbow. "Hey... hey... Chill." Diana lightly grazed the "wound" that Wendy gave her. She rolled her eyes, and just chose to sit back in this interaction and let Wendy take the scene. The kid needs it, and Diana didn't feel like talkin' to no kid.

Just like Diana expected, it was a conversation between Wendy and this strange girl. Wendy had been observing her... checking her body language mostly. That's when this girl started chatting up a storm, and Wendy reluctantly looked over to Diana as if she was silently asking for help. Only for the blonde to cross her arms. Wendy would have elbowed her again, but she decided to focus on Rori. Though, she was able to glean a little bit out of her (Such as who's this "Cousin Max," that apparently into inappropriate things).

More importantly, she's a local... sort of. She says that she's new here. Which means that she won't know as much as a local of this city. Which also means it's, at best, unlikely that she'll know anything about Olivia.

Diana would have just politely said, "That's nice," and walked away, but not Wendy. She was planning on going the whole nine yards.

"Wendy," She simply stated her name. She peered over to Diana, who wasn't chatting. "And this is Diana... my big sister."

The two exchanged confused looks.

"... My older sister I mean." Wendy quickly answered. "We're from Stadium City in Ohio. Yeah I know it's pretty far away... We're here on a little mission - but that isn't important right now." Wendy realized she was talking a tad too much. She awkwardly looked at Rori, and shrugged. "It's... nice. It's not as dangerous as people think it is."

"Heh..." Diana chimed in. "It's "safe" because every small time crook is scared pissless of the Tyrants... it's the NEST bastards that's the problems. They keep trying to fix something that ain't broken in the name of saving face." Diana noted...

... And quickly got a sharp elbow from Wendy.

"But, yeah..." Wendy trailed off, thinking of something to do. Since she was running out of steam for this conversation. She saw all these food vendors, and got an idea. "... How about we get something to eat? Don't worry, it's on me."

Bold words for Wendy.

But she was aiming to gather information.

[User]
The tantalizing smell of street food danced through the air, rich aromas of fresh pastries intermingling with the oily fragrance of fried anything. Music and mayhem collided in the streets until each voice and song evolved into an amalgamated chorus. The sun glared down at the crowd of celebrators, but that did little to somber the mood. If anything, it gave the people a good excuse to drink beer and revel deeper in the chaos of blissful partying. The spirit of celebration was thick in the air as Lewis strolled through the busy streets. You could almost smell the scent of joy and excitement in the wind. Well, that or alcohol.

Lewis breathed in deeply as he took in the sights and sounds, a light smile decorating his face. On normal circumstances, he would have avoided the Inner-city like the plague. He had no business to attend to there. The people weren't as gullible, his presence would be less than welcomed, and thqt wasn't even mentioning how monitored the place was. Still, the festival was not an event to be missed. It was host to the good memories he had of New Revière, however little there were.

It wasn't until the sun beat down like the devil in heels that Lewis began to slow. His skin glistened with sweat from heat and his stomach growled like an otherworldly beast. Perhaps he should have eaten more than just a pack of crackers he found in the fridge. Like two packs of crackers. Better than being hot and hungry like he was now. Lewis ducked into an alleyway, sighing as the shadows brought relief from the shade. His eyes scanned the crowd, automatically going into 'sneaky mode'. Perhaps he could nab a wallet off a guy, or snatch a goodie or two from a stand, or maybe...

Lewis smiled mischievously as he spotted a well-dressed man heading for the bar area of town. Maybe he'd have to charm his way into a meal already paid. And, he decided as an afterthought, a 'borrowed' wallet for dessert. Lewis flanced around, wary of anyone warching him, but the crowd's attention seemed to be fixed on the ongoing parade. Perfect. He ducked deeper into the alley, but not far enough to lose sight of the man. A tingling sensation raced all over his body, one not so much as painful as just extremely odd. His hair grow longer, his legs grew longer, and his chest became more...noticeable, and in a few moments a woman fit to be a model was standing where Lewis once was. He grinned in satisfaction at his new form. Oh yeah, this was definitely going to work. The joy was cut short as his stomach growled louder in protest. He grimaced at the growing cramp in his gut and searched the crowd for the man once more. Soon, he soothed quietly, giving his stomach a pat. Hopefully this wouldn't take long. Lewis could already feel his energy fading from his current disguise. Spotting the man, Lewis donned his most charming smile before stepping back out and following behind.


[System]
Hero Name: MidKnight
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Family: Jordon Flowers [Father], Mary Ann Flowers [Mother], Agatha Flowers [Sister]
Occupation: Cashier at a head shop

Appearance: Kane stands fairly tall at 6'4" (193cm), typically wears dark clothes spanning grayscale colors with black being the most prevalent. He likes to wear chains and silver jewelry (never gold). His hair is dark and long, falling past his shoulders. He's not keen on full beards, but is known to let a little scruff grow and will often wear eyeliner. Despite no longer being an athlete, he keeps a pretty fit physique.

Superpower: Sparkly Rainbows.

Not exclusively, but that's how his abilities manifested. Kane Grimwolfe, Edgelord Supreme, can emit sparkly rainbows out of his palms. Were a scientist to study Kane's abilities, they would conclude that Kane has the innate ability to bend light to his will. Were Kane to become more advanced in his powers, he might discover that he can force light to cloak him, rendering him almost invisible. He might discover how to focus light in an offensive manner in the form of a laser beam. But today, at this moment, the hero known (by virtually no one) as MidKnight can make sparkly rainbows.

Skills: Kane is well versed in body language, usually able to read between the lines when interacting with people. He is also an avid reader and is quite intelligent about an assortment of subjects. Despite how he looks, he grew up with a family that loved to camp and hunt, which left him with honed survival skills as well as a fair sense of marksmanship.

Equipment: Smartphone, makeup compact, handcuffs, light armored vest with enough durability to stop small arms fire, but not much else.

Personality: Sarcastic, super dorky, intelligent, easy going and hard to rattle - Kane may be slow to open up to people, but once you get passed his walls, he's usually good company. Despite his gothic persona, there is a happy-go-lucky kid living inside of him. He is just slow to let that kid out.

Biography: Spencer Flowers was born into a picturesque family. His mother doted upon him, his sister loved playing board games with him and his father would often take him out camping and hunting. He loved sports growing up, and even took a few lessons in karate. He was a great student and an excellent athlete.

Then came the day that he'll never forget. His mother and father sat he and his sister down and disclosed to them that life was about to change. His parents explained how sometimes people can fall out of love and that their father would be moving out. His parents reassured he and his sister that it was no one's fault and that their love for their children would never go away.

Regardless, Spencer felt broken. He was tired of pretending to be the picture perfect family. He started dressing in monochrome, he dropped out of all his sports activities and he became introverted. Soon some like-minded lost souls that hovered outside of the typical social circles took him in. They introduced him to new, more intense music, updated his wardrobe with a more gothic tone, and even gave him a new name to match his new persona. Kane Grimwolfe was born.

Kane finished high school, but skipped college. He jumped from retail job to retail job, never giving any of them his full effort. Each one was a means to an end: he needed a paycheck, they needed a cashier.

Then one day things changed. The meteor hit. He immediately felt the affects on his body. His skin tingled, but he couldn't figure out what to do about it. He recalled the history of the fallen heroes of the past that had succumbed to the virus and couldn't shake the feeling that he might share a sort kinship with them, for better or worse.

Out of desperation, he decided the only way to activate the power within was to put himself in a distressful situation. He used the bulk of his paycheck to buy a Kevlar vest and some handcuffs before setting out into the night to catch some hoodlum for a petty crime - nothing too serious, just something to get his feet wet.

He found his target in the form of a mugger who was trying to rob a person at the ATM with a knife to their back. Kane bit his lip, pointed his palms, and shouted out with all of his might... That's when it happened. Rainbows shot from his palms and hit the mugger in the face, blinding him, if only momentarily. Shocked and confused, Kane made the most of the distraction and kicked the mugger to the ground, apprehended the knife, and locked the cuffs on the crook before alerting the police.

Since then, Kane has been trying to figure out what it all means, what these powers are for and how he could properly utilize them.

[User]
Nobody

Sarah was disappointed when the villain ably reacted, shutting down her machine's power in an instant and eventually bringing the vehicle to a stop. The headlights went dark as the electronics all ceased to function. For a moment the truck seemed to drag itself forward, in spite of the lack of power, and even in spite of itself. It crept a few feet closer to Thundercloud, before stopping again. Sarah felt a strange and new sensation - a sort of burning and pressure that made her feel like veins were going to pop because of the effort.

'Ugh... this is too hard. I've gotta find another way.' Nobody looked around the room for a new method, but nothing jumped out at her immediately. Thundercloud was proving to be extremely powerful. It was all the young heroes could do to stay on their feet! 'What beats lightning in the comics? It must be... rubber...' Sarah hatched a plan and started putting it into action. The lug nuts of the front left wheel began to turn under her ghostly influence. It wasn't long before the distinct ringing sound of metal was heard as they fell to the hard floor of the lobby.

At that time her opponent was summoning up more power and blasting lightning all over the place, blowing out the windows of the building. She wasn't a direct target, but some of the arcs slapped against the truck as they passed and shattered all its glass as well. The truck lurched again, this time leaning over as its tire popped off and began rolling around. The heroine had made it her new body. First it circled back behind the truck and made its way around the room, gaining speed - before flying back at Thundercloud with enormous momentum. It was a heavy duty tire, which would be difficult to deal with even if it didn't have such a high velocity. Sarah planned to bowl him over with it!

[Assistant]
Olivia

"Oh shit," Olivia screamed as she pulled her body entirely behind the pillar. Behind her, the electric attack smashed into the concrete. Parts exploded outward, sending dust and debris flying. The thunderous roar of the electric strike overwhelmed Olivia's senses for a brief moment, bringing her back to the reality of the situation. She pressed herself harder against the pillar as another strike came in, letting out a small yelp as she did. Her thralls had been dispatched by the thunderous strikes of their former master. The villain had acted quickly to regain control of the chaos and had started to show off his incredible power.

"How can we win," Olivia thought to herself as she peered from behind cover. She watched as one conjured a pair of large rods and as Tuxedo Mask spoke to a cat. The truck hero had been stopped in its tracks by a single gesture from the villain. "Where did the cat come from?" Olivia pulled herself back. Had she lost her mind? Why was there a random cat amid a super-powered brawl? Had she finally snapped and lost control of her mind?

"Breath, me, breathe," she whispered as she once pressed her weight further into the collum. Olivia knew this was not the time to have a breakdown. Another blast of electricity came, digging through the tile floor, forcing her knees into her chest in an instant. Another explosion struck close by, causing Olivia to pull them even deeper instinctually.

"What can I control, what can I control," she repeated to herself. Maybe she could try to use her power on the villain again? No, she quickly shook that thought away as she knew that her ability did not work on heroes and villains. While she could try, all the same, this was not the time for that. She did know her powers were effective on the henchmen, and she peered around the corner once more and took in their situation. That had opened fire on another hero, pinning the so-called "Midknight" down.

There were still quite a few of the henchmen left. She had never tried to use her powers on more than a person, or two, at a time. What would happen if she tried it on them all? Pushing against the pillar, Olivia slid up and found her feet underneath herself. Another breath in, and out, and in again as she cleared her mind. What if she did allow a quick experiment of her power? "Do I even have a joke?"

Olivia focused every ounce of strength she had available into her power. In her mind, the situation played out. She would compel the troopers to drop their weapons and give themself up to the authorities outside. Their focus was on the Midknight individual, and they shouldn't be able to react to her. Safe, no bullet holes, and another batch of villains turned over to the authorities. That would allow the rest of the heroes to focus their attention squarely on the main attraction. While she was unsure how this attempt would play out, she knew she needed to try something different. And she did have the perfect joke to compel a group of rabble-rousers.

She pushed off from the pillar, took a step to the side, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey! What do you call a group of rude criminals going down a flight of stairs?" She focused hard on her intended effect as she spoke, hitting a mental block as she did. The more power she forced in, the more she tried to compel the group, the less she could think. Her mind blanked entirely in that instant. As a panic set in, she skipped a breath or two as her mind became barren of all thoughts. The few ideas she had were to compel them to do something, anything even, but nothing specific came to mind. The power welled in her mind, not fully released, and nobody compelled. Until, from nowhere, she finished her joke.

"Condescending cons descending," she finished as she compelled the troopers to go outside and fight the cops. As her thoughts returned, a look of horror befell her face as she realized what she had just commanded these troopers to do. She watched as their eyes quickly fogged over and returned to normal. The troopers themselves took off in an instant, guns drawn, as they headed through the broken door and already shattered windows to the streets outside. "No, no no no, that not what I-" she whispered trying to fix her mistake before they got too far away. But she caught sight of a singular tire speeding around the lobby before taking off towards the villain. A singular laugh escaped her lips, before a second, and soon enough a cascade of laughter started.

"I have lost my mind." Olivia finished the thought as the sound of gunfire erupted, and the battle commenced.

[User]
Lafayette Financial Tower - Lobby

 "Emo," Kane scoffed as he flipped his hair out of his eye to get better aim. He then paused for a moment to consider how that must've looked... Something between a grunt and an abrupt growl rolled out of his throat as the disappointment in himself set in.

 That's when the first of the hechmen's barrel's lit up, followed by another and yet another still. Bullets exploded forth with a trajectory destined for Kane's midsection. He didn't move, however. Didn't even flinch. Kane knew what would happened next. He was invincible.

 As expected, the bullets collided against some invisible force field just in front of him. Kane's mouth curled into a smug grin. These idiots clearly didn't know who they were messing with. As thoughts of his own badassery swam in his head, Kane's eyes slowly drifted to the ground. That's when he saw them: the talismans. His eyes immediately shot back up and over to Robin with a look of renewed awe.

 I'm not invincible, Kane begrudgingly realized as his heart began to race a little faster. It's him. Him and his magic Post-Its..

 As mayhem continued to erupt around him, Kane was left wondering what to do next. That's when he saw the freckled woman mount an ethereal looking spear into the ground. After a split second, the purpose clicked. He knew exactly what she was trying to do.

 Kane made a dash for her location, covering himself with a wild spray of bullets toward the storm troopers, intent on riddling their legs with holes. He wasn't going to be able to rely on Post It protection forever, he realized. A passive defense against the lightening would be best, if effective.

 "Hi there," he said smoothly to the young woman before turning to face the action once more. The wind was displacing some of the raindrops that were flowing in through the shattered windows. Kane had to squint to see through the watery debris. "This," he shouted through the sound of electricity and rainfall as he pointed at the rod in the ground. "Good idea!" Despite talking to her, his eyes were roaming elsewhere, trying to analyze the entire scene around them.

 There, over yonder, was the fast chick that manage to get a few hits in on the big man. She would be useful for an assortment of applications. And just over there was the woman who always tried to lighten the mood with a joke. The storm troopers never seemed to appreciate them, though, but they always gave her a pass after she delivered. Kane still wasn't sure what to make of that. He scanned the room again to locate the rest of the rag tag team. Just off to the side, Post It guy arguing with his pet cat, but he had lost sight of the shadowy looking woma-

 Wait...

 "Is that a fucking talking cat?!" he shouted out toward Mr. Post It. He then looked back to the freckled woman beside him. "You see that? Is that a fucking talking cat?!" Kane blinked a few times, as if doing so would make the cat disappear and set the world right again. He finally had to just shake his head and put a pin in that little source of wild confusion.

 Just then the rogue tire made its frontal assault. "I don't..." Kane let out a huff. "I don't even have the words."

 He then traded glances between Freckles, Miss Speedy and the energy rods. "Are those safe to touch?" He finally asked. He hoped so. He would love to see that Lightning Pig stuck with a fork at super sonic speed.


[System]
Appearance: He is of average height with a shaved fave and hair cut close in the style of the Byzantine(whom he had been working for for the last few years). He is fairly muscular and is more tan than the average of his people. He has green eyes.
Personality: drunk almost 24/7, he has a belief that he can never have a hangover if he never stopped being drunk. He is fairly kind and an open person on an everyday basis. It is before or during a battle that he becomes completely calm and serious.

Backstory: Harek had an inconsequential childhood with no tragedy or excitement beyond the norm. His story truly began when he went on his first raid. It had been a sizeable party of 3 ships, and there goal was to hit some small northern English villages. As they were raiding one of the villages they had been ambushed by King Richeard of Northumbria with an army much larger than their numbers. It was a massacre. Harek and 7 others had survived. They were captured and brought to the Kings dungeons. They were stuck in the cells for weeks with a large group of other prisoners. Every day men would be taken out of the cells and never come back. No one knew where they were going, though he had heard the guards mention snakes once. After 2 of his fellow kinsmen had also been taken away, he decided to escape. He organized an escape plan, and on the next day when the guards came to grab another prisoner the prisoners attacked the guards and escaped. After escaping and making it back to the ships they only had enough men to crew one of them. On the return trip they got stuck in a storm and two more fell overboard and were never seen again. Once they got back one committed suicide from the shame and another died of their wounds. The last one other than Harek was crippled and could never raid again, while Harek became a drunk to try and make the horrors go away. After 2 years of being a homeless drunk he vowed to make King Richeard of Northumbria pay, and he has done so. He has only gone on 5 raids since then 3 of them targeting the Kings land. While they were not large raids Harek managed to make them incredibly profitable for him and his brothers in arms. He would lead small bands on sneak attacks taking out wealthy targets. They would hit manors and at times even full cities. One of his most successful raids was when he managed to sneak into the city of Paris itself and loot almost one hundred churches without ever getting caught. He used the money to gather a force large enough to attack the King's citadel. He then lead one massive attack against the King. He captured the King's castle while he was out with his army, and burned it down, also looting it of everything it had. After that he then ambushed the King on his way back to the castle. It was a brutal fight with many on both sides being killed, but Harek won the day. He managed to defeat the king in combat, but right as he was about to execute him, the King's personal guard came to help the King. They shot Harek with three arrows and made him fall back to the rest of his army. Even though he had to fall back, he managed to hold on to the King's sword and uses it as a taunt. Angered by the Kings escape he released his army upon northern England with no purpose except to destroy. He never found the King and was forced to return to Scandinavia from lack of supplies for his army. After that he served as a mercenary for the Byzantine Empire for a period of 3 years before finally returning to his home in the north at the age of 33, prepared to raid once again, and he has heard that King Richeard of Northumbria has rebuilt his kingdom once again. His vengeance will not be sated until the King's head is at his feet.

Equipment: English sword; soft leather boots; fur cloak; threadbare clothes; backpack?(don't know what else to call it): chain mail; helm with nosebar; shield; sack of assorted coins of various worth

Skills: sword fighting; sailing; functioning drunk; tactical thinking

[User]
Odin's Whisper
Uffr awoke to find him self dosing at the tiller,
To his crew he commanded, "To the Oars, Grab your gear, and pull hard, we will beat the Crow to the shore" Uffr already in his armor looked to the shore, and sure enough there was land. Uffr instinctively touched his amulet in the shape of Thor's hammer, Uffr asked the gods for this day to be one of good battle, good drink, and good riches.

[Assistant]
Odin's Whisper
Harek had been fast asleep when he heard the captain shouting for the the men to get to the oars. Harek sat there dazed for a second before realizing that he should get to the oars. He immediately ran to his post, not bothering to put any clothes on other than the pants he had on already. He sat at his bench prepared to run his oar out as soon as the drummer began to call a pace.

[User]
Odin's Whisper
Uffr looked to the deck of the ship and saw Harek sitting on a bench rowing with only his pants on. To him he called "your not going to fight like that? Get into something!"

[Assistant]
Odin's Whisper
"I'll be ready by the time we make landfall, don't worry captain" Once Harek said this he shouted at one of the men running around, and they passed him his pack. Harek then slapped his helmet onto his head and gave Uffr a grin, then went back to rowing.

[User]
Odin's Whisper

Uffr smirked,
There was something about Harek, the man had humor in the face of danger. A trait that could save him or get him killed. The whisper had pulled ahead of the Crow. The men of the Whisper called insults as the distance of the ships lengthened. Uffr figured that his men could handle it, and he focused on steering the Longship

[Assistant]
Odin's Whisper
Ulf Thrallson opted to dress himself in his armour before he joined the rowers, and quite obviously took his time about doing so. Once all his armour save for his helmet was on he took a seat by one of the oars and joined in rowing in unison with the rest of the crew. For now he addressed no one as no one had addressed him but he laughed aloud at some of the insults being thrown back and fourth from the two boats.

[User]
The Crow

---

Predawn gloom had settled over the world. A hazy veil slowly being lifted as the first golden fingers of the sun crept across the sky to the lament of rolling waves crashing upon the hulls of two ships. Dubbed The Crow by its crew, the longship cut across the rough waters with speed and agility, its keel spine parting the frigid waters with ease as its oars dipped and splashed in hypnotic rhythm.

Most of the fifty raiders aboard the vessel slept, save its captain, Edric Godseye. Sitting at the steering oar, the large man brushed his ash grey hair from his brow, lazily adjusting the oar to keep it parallel to Odin's Whisper. His attention was more concerned with the small stump of wood held in his lap. Taking his hand from the oar handle, Edric lifts up a knife and continues his work, whittling a figurine from the wood. The sharp edge of the knife made short work of the soft birch, cutting away timber to forge the shape of a head and shoulders.

A cry from Odin's Whisper broke Edric's concentration.

"Land! Praise the Gods, we have found land!"

Edric slapped the shoulder of his sleeping helmsmen, motioning him to take the oar. He grunted sheepishly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before taking the oar. Edric rose from his seat, and began making his way toward the prow where a crow, black as night, perched in eternal watch before the ship.

Before the prow stood Edric's trusted lieutenants; young Skuli Guthornson and Hafr, Edric's oldest and most trusted friend. They seemed to be arguing as they looked out upon the land on the horizon.

"I don't see it," Hafr was saying, squinting into the horizon.

"It's right there," insisted Skuli, pointing at a dark shape in the distance.

"What do you see," asked Edric, joining them.

"A building, Jarl Edric," answered young Skuli. "You see the spire? I'd guess its a church."

"I see nothing," grumbled Hafr. "The boy is still dreaming, I say."

"I'm telling you its there!" Laughed Skuli, amused his comrade couldn't see it. "You need only open your eyes!" Hafr furrowed his brow in concentration, his eyes straining to see what was ahead of him. Skuli began talking very slowly, as if to a child. "You see, Skuli, there's land ahead."

"I can see the land!" Snapped Hafr.

Edric squeezed Hafr's shoulder. "Your eyes are not what they used to be. Skuli, you and your men with me. Hafr, secure the Crow then follow us up the beach." Skuli nodded and left to gather his men while Hafr continued his strained gaze into the horizon.

Edric walked back across the length of the ship. The raiders had all awoken, lured from slumber by the call of land. They busied themselves, strapping boiled leathers across their torsos, flinging shields over their backs, and draping chainmail over their shoulders. The men stopped their preparation, and exchange of taunts and japes with Odin's Whisper, as a seagull squawked overhead. All looked up to watch the bird as it circled and screeched. It dove down before the ship before flapping its great wings and careening high up in the air to disappear into cloud and gloom.

Edric watched the bird carefully. The Gods often use animals to herald their presence, and this sighting appeared beyond happenstance. Whether this be a good or bad sign, Edric couldn't say for sure without deeper thought. His men, however, expected a quick answer. The grisled old raider lifted his axe above his head. "Víkingr, the Gods are with us!"

The men cheered and crashed their axes and shields together in a bloodthirsty cataphonic song. The landmass loomed overhead, their landfall imminent. Skuli slapped Edric's back, signalling his readiness. Hafr strode back from the prow.

"There's a building on the horizon," Hafr stated. "I'd guess a church."

Skuli smirked wryly. "Thank the Gods you are with us, Hafr."

The Crow lurched to a stop as it grinded up onto the beach. Edric led the charge, Skuli and his men just behind him. Edric flung himself over the rails of the ship, his axe tight in his hand and the blade calling for blood. Edric shouted into the crisp morning air.

"The Gods are with us!"

[Assistant]
Lindisfarne

The young monk was terrible at sleeping, he was pretty certain that sleeping was a skill, one that couldn't be taught but innately learned, he had spent most of the night staring at the top of his bunk, around him all the other monks snored loudly, the sound of it deafening, he was always the last to fall asleep and because of it, the first to suffer the earthquake of snores. finally the monk couldn't handle it anymore, he wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, he shoved himself off of the bed and stumbled across the bunk room, opening the door.

Outside was a stone wall, it wasn't very tall, any saxon with two arms could easily scale it, but the true protection was faith itself, only the most depraved of men would dare attack a church, lest god smite them down for the scum they are. he breathed in the fresh morning air, it was cold but in a nice way, like a glass of water. he smiled at the red morning sun, Lindisfarne was a beautiful church and it was his home.

Then suddenly he heard a barely audible roar, he paused, a shiver tingling down his spine, he moved closer to the wall and listened deeply, the roar grew louder, it sounded like shouting, the shouting of a thousand demons. he gasped, as he spotted a small horde of leather-bound men, each of them screeching praise for their foul pagan gods. he ran to the top of the church, nearly tripping over a staircase leading to the top, he reached a brass bell at the top and rang it ten times, causing a deafening sound to wake up the entire church, it had been rung every day, once for their daily prayer, twice for food, but it had never been rung ten times, ten bell ring's meant the coming of death, it meant demons, it meant pagans.

@Winterwake@Sirkaithethird@pandapolio

[User]
Ulf Egilsson roared with the rest as he disembarked from the Odin's Whisper and made his way up the beach alongside his fellow Norsemen and women. He kept up with the rest of the raiders at a sprightly jog just behind the men at the front, and despite the weight of his armour and helmet, which he favoured for its unparalleled protection and sinister appearance, he had no problems keeping up with them. He held his dane axe in two hands up over his shoulder so that it was poised for an overhead swing and roared to his fellows as the alarm bell atop the monastery began to blare

"Good! Now they know that we are coming!"

[Assistant] Harek jumped off the ship at a sprint to join the line of raiders making their way across the beach, hoping to not be left behind. As he ran he slipped a shirt over his head, but didn't put any of his armour on; not wanting to slow himself down. As he caught up to the front of the raiders he drew his sword and let out a yell with the rest of the raiders.

[User]
Uffr commanded 5 of his men to stay on the ship,
He grabbed his axe and leaped over the bow the the Whisper. "With me!" Uffr called to the rest of his crew. They charged up to the wall, even with the armor Uffr was wearing he could easily summit the wall. The ringing was growing more stressed. As Uffr looked down into the courtyard of the building, he saw nobody, they muct be hiding except for the asshole in the tower. The Bells must be heard on the shore. Uffr jumped down into the courtyard and taunted "Come out little Pigs" Uffr felt the battle joy taking over, he was in enemy territory.

[Assistant]
Harek made sure he was close behind Uffr going over the wall, so the captain wouldn't go get his back stabbed. After he jumped the wall he looked around, but could not see any enemies nearby. He jogged up to the front door and knocked.
"Anyone home."
He listened for a second then looked over at one of the nearer raiders with an axe and smiled.


[System]
Age: 14

Element: Water

Appearance:

Details: Remove the piercing, collar, and bandage. Hair is a dull light blue
Height : 5'5

Personality: Silas is hot-tempered and highly competitive, refusing to be beaten until he's given 110%. Stubborn in his opinions and generally headstrong, he tends to come off as rude and uncouth even though he doesn't intend to be. Silas is usually upfront with how he says things, most of the time thinking with his heart rather than his head. Silas is incredibly loyal and protective towards those he cares about, going out of his way to help them if need be.

History: Born the eldest of two sons to an earth elementalist couple, Silas was guarded from the prejudices against elementalists for a good part of his childhood. He'd been fond of both water and the creatures that lived in it for as long as he could remember. Just before his 14th birthday Silas' elemental power over water started to manifest, he was overjoyed and he saw it as the best possible gift he could recieve.

Soon after, people's attitude towards Silas changed as nobody wanted to be associated with an elementalist. "Don't talk to him, he's one of those freaks" Silas would not admit that his powers were something to be shunned, so he was hated by many of the kids, he even ended up getting into one or two physical fights with the particularly daring children. Worried for what might happen if Silas kept getting in fights with other kids over him being an elementalist, his parents sent him away to the Elemental Academy so he could hone his powers and learn some discipline.

Equipment: N/A

[User]
Felix Williams

Location: A room
Amsterdam

The nights run had ended in a way that Felix assumed others would be jealous of from his point of view. Somehow in the course of a single day he had made an enemy of every student and likely every teacher at the school, sabotaged his living arrangement from the school itself, and seen a snow white angel with hands strong enough to reach the inferno of jumbled emotions that was his heart..
She cared for him. A part of his mind, a small piece of it, believed it to be pity or some other underlying emotion that made her do what she was doing.. yet after the episode with the kiss and her icy wrath blossoming in the nights run Felix had no reason not to believe that what she felt was the genuine start of a healthy relationship.

Could he call it that? Both his parents had been in love once and yet they had drifted after just a few short years.. That nagging doubt in his mind refused to believe in his own feelings as genuine just yet.

It was all so confusing.
Yet there they had been. Sitting below the swaying branches of the trees with Dias soft and supple frame on his-

Reality crashed back hard as Felix rose from his bed and swung at the demons of doubt and fear dancing before his sleep dazed eyes. Again his prominent and injured hand suffered for the reckless spirit inside him as it struck the hard stone wall with a hefty thud, eliciting a wince and a hiss as he sucked in his breathe before cradling the hand near his chest.
Again Felix felt the restless furnace inside him swell as it fed on his confusion and fears.

"Was it all a dream.."

The words were little more than a whisper. Everything had gone so well yesterday that he'd half expected to wake up in his old room.. Instead he was greeted by a far more appreciated sight.

"Dia."

Thats right! The night run, the rooftop, it was real. We wandered back slowly and then.. together.. in bed.. we.. we..

A bright red flushed his face at the implications. The two of them had slept together, but had that been all? Thankfully he was still dirty and fully clothed so the moment of panic quickly passed. Even the renewed pain from his hand was drowned out by an unfamiliar feeling of warmth spreading through his body at just the thought of what they shared.
Felix had fallen asleep with someone in his arms..

"I-I'm sorry. Did I oversleep? How are you feeling after last night."

[Assistant]
Dia - A Room

---

Dia blinked lazily as she considered the question. "Well enough. Classes are cancelled until after lunch. So that means we're going to the infirmary once you get up fully. I'm not helping that hand enough, and I'll be damned if I let you keep making it worse," she murmured, a smile playing across her face. She stretched with a yawn, running fingers through her hair in an attempt to remove knots.

"Will... Will you wait for me? I need to go to my room to get clean clothes and shower and deal with my hair and - " she cut herself off, her smile changing to one of apology. "Well, you know what I mean. I hope. Don't leave, please."

Leaning over to kiss his forehead, Dia released a content sigh before grumbling nothings as she got up.

At the door she paused one final time.

"And Felix... Thanks for, uh, all the fun. For, um, being you. And for not... For not....fornottryinganything," she finished quickly turning red.

[User]
The waters of the hot spring could see and hear everything that happened around them, given conciousness by the headmasters powerful melding. More than commubicating with the spirits and elementals of the water he absorbed them. To one of his kind it was like regaining something you lost such as a finger or a whole hand.
In the water he felt the underlying happiness of the water. Clean, free of contamination or corruption, unbound and untamed. Without the elements using the knowledge of its handler they could not communicate, speech and emotion being rather foreign concepts, but now they hummed a wordless song of thanks into Kanos very soul.

It was a delicate concept to balance human life and needs with the simplistic ways of the natural world. Humans needes to expand and grow but not at the cost of the world around them.
At the academy they had learned to give and take freely, secure in a greater good between the two sides.

The sensation of another strong spirit, this one attuned to the ground, stepped a single foot into the hotsprings. At once, the flowing awareness through the mass of water was collected into a singular portion of it across from Jorden.

The discarded robes floating in the pool were manipulated by the waters flowing up and into it until it had become something resembling human. The upper portions were that of a living person, albeit made of the clear blue waters of the springs. A black stain, like ink, seeped from the chest and out to every inch of the forned body. Finally the bright azure glow of his eyes signaled Kanos full materialization.

As expected he was rather blunt.

"Yes, Jorden. I did. Shower before getting in here next time or," from pleasantly warm to bearly subzero temperatures the water shifted under the headmasters will before returning to the more pleasant and natural temperature.

"As for I assume you refer to Felix. Push him too hard and the spirit in him coul still cause a teacher harm. Intentionally or not. I trust you will use discretion fitting for whatever trials are to come.."

Thoughts of the night runs 'casualties of war' crossed his mind. There had been few injuries beyond bumps and scrapes, all of which promptly dealt with, but it made sense to be more diligent. As always Kano simply failed to remember what it was lile to be flesh an blood. They broke easily. Healed slowly..

"Bring one of the infirmary aids with you if you intend to get serious. Oh and, before someone else shows up, like one of the children," emphasis on the children part, "I suggest getting into proper swimwear. Nobody wants to see that."

A call from the entrance confirmed his suspicions just few moments later.

"See?"

Algorithm

"Please wait one moment. I am with another student at the moment." Kano called to ShiZhen. As Manilow dealt withhis wardrobe malfunction Kano dealt with his own. Fully materializing a 'body' and stepping onto the dry stones beside the pools. The waters pushed from its depths a frozen orb, steaming in the exposed air, that cracked where Kanos fingers touched. The frozen shards fell harnlessly to the floor revealing the book he treasured above all.
Secured back onto his waist, and Manilow properly covered, he called to the student once more.

"You may enter now."

[Assistant]
Jordan's balls beat a swift retreat inside his pelvic cavity when the water turned icy.

"Fuck. Not fair Hargor." The water gradually returned to a habitable temperature and Jordan nodded grumpily, actually contemplating rolling around in filth on purpose next time.

"I'll push the boy as far as I see fit, and if that leads to bodily harm for anybody, I'll make sure it's me. The nurse and I are on quite good terms, and if I make a speedy recovery, she might even take a house call, you know what I mean Kano?" Jordan said, winking quite persistently in Kano's direction.

"Hey, I can name at least six people who most certainly want to see th-" Jordan heard the student's voice, causing his own voice to croak to a halt. He shook his head once more in Kano's general direction, and reached for his boxers. The boxers in question were lying on a fold-up chair two metres away. Luckily, or unluckily as one might conclude, Jordan had grains of sand in many unfortunate places. A light tug on several grains located in the boxers sent the shorts flying into his outstretched hand.

"Hope your happy, Headmaster. Don't the students have to take anatomy classes at some point?" As a point of pride, Jordan took control of every grain present in his boxers, which was more than one generally would like, and blasted all of them out onto the outside of the springs. Donning his boxers, Jordan lay back once more and breathed out, muscles creaking and sore from any number of things. Yesterday had been eventful. And Jordan still had a fencing match to prepare for...

[User]
Amsterdam

Felix smiled warmly. He was playing it rather cool at the moment but inside it was chaos. His stomach was knotted, his brain was replaying what imagined had happened when they had fallen asleep, and worst of all his hand was back to throbbing.
Maybe it was just a hunch but something told Felix he should get used to that pain.

Giving a little chuckle at her flustered comment, he patted the air.

"Yeah. I'll be right here. Not sure if I can promise that nurse trip though. I kinda.. sorta..." unable to make eye contact now with guilt on his mind, he turned to look out the window. "Challenged that loser Manilow to a fight.. before coming to the rooftops.." and having found a piece of what happiness is in the process..

Leaving out that last bit seemes wise. Any more feelings between the two here and now could have consequences. Like Felix dieing from his own embarassment, or Dia blushing herself into a nosebleed.

Speaking of clothes, Felix's eyes went wide as he realized that unlike everyone else, Felix had nothing else to wear but the clothes he had arrived with and no funds to get anything else.

"I'll wait here till you get back and we can talk about the nurse. I promise. While you're gone I should probably consider a shower myself..."

The clean clothes problem would be dealt with later..

[Assistant]
Dia - Locations Varied
@liferusher

---

Dia raised an eyebrow at the mention of fighting a teacher, pursing her lips. "Then we'll stop by the infirmary after we're done with... that ... issue," she said stubbornly before leaving.

It took her a little bit to figure out where her room was again, and she quietly let herself in hoping she didn't disturb the nice girl who was her roommate. She turned a little red again at the thought, embarrassed that she couldn't remember the girl's name. Did she say it in their brief encounter? She shook her head, sneaking into the shower.

Thirty minutes later she was stepping out of her room, feeling rather refreshed if a little jittery. A quick bite to eat, and then she'd head back.

[User]
Algorithm
When Kanako arrived at the rooftops, she was immediately greeted by a strong gale of wind. Quickly, she pushed down her skirt, not wanting her panties to be revealed to the world. Unfortunately for her however, the wind refused to let up, so she had to keep her hands down there if she wanted to keep her modesty.

She walked around, still holding her skirt down. The wind, even though bothersome, was pleasant to her skin. If only she wasn't wearing this skirt, she would be able to enjoy this wind more.

"Oh, screw it, nobody is here anyways!"

In an act of bravery, she lifted her hands away from her skirt. And just as she thought, her skirt immediately fluttered wildly, revealing the underwear covered beneath. She didn't put her hands back down however. Instead, with a blush, she closed her eyes and raised her arms, taking in on the wind that blew at her.

Soon however, her meditations were interrupted when Catherine made her entrance. Quickly, she pushed her skirt back down before greeting the teacher.

"I-I assume you're the wind teacher?" she asked her, slightly flustered.

[Assistant]
Silas shifted sleepily atop his bed, still exhausted from yesterday's events despite resting. He'd passed out almost immediately upon reaching the dorms, neglecting to so much as even get under the sheets in favour of just falling asleep on the made bed. He didn't even bother to get changed, which would be slightly disgusting to some, but he honestly didn't care at the time. Blocking the harsh sunlight with one hand, Silas idly looked about the room as he tried to fully wake himself. Where's all my stuff? The hell? Didn't I unpack the other day? A few moments passed before Silas remembered that after last night's run he'd agreed to move in with Vera. Riiiight I would've had to pack my stuff back up which means that it's all right... there... Silas thought to himself as his tired gaze fell upon a hastily packed duffel bag at the side of his bed. Idiot...

"Silas? You still here, love?"

Vera's voice from the other room pulled Silas away from his self-scorning, and brought him slightly closer to actually awakening. Reluctantly, the boy forced himself to sit up and then stand before shuffling to and opening the door. "Still here, and still very tired."

Silas turned back and begun ripping apart his bag to find his phone, so he could check the time. He was left speechless as the screen came to life and he saw just how long he'd been out. He'd missed the first morning of classes, hopefully the teacher wasn't the type to harp on attendance, because if they were... I'm so fucked Well, there was nothing he could do to save that unfortunately, seeing that he'd have to deal with the teacher's wrath tomorrow whether he liked it or not.

"You just wake up too or am I the only one who missed class?" Silas shouted as he searched through his bag.


[System]
Marked by Zeus and Artemis
Seeking Peace

AND

Chef Mate Dolce
Marked by Hera and Artemis
Seeking Adventure

THE PAIR
Vasilia's Agenda: Viva La Revoluction
Dolce's Agenda: All For One And One For All

STATS

Vasilia
Blood: +1
Courage: +1
Grace: +1
Sense: +1
Wisdom: -1

Dolce
Blood: -1
Courage: +0
Grace: +1
Sense: +1
Wisdom: +1

Combined (Always with Hope)
Blood: +0
Courage: +1
Grace: +2
Sense: +2
Wisdom: +0

Paired Core

Birds Of A Feather: You play as two characters. The Pair can split up or stay together as they
like, allowing you to be in two places at once. They each have a separate Look, separate Stats, and a separate personal Agenda.

The Pair has separate bonds for each of them. Each of the Pair can only have one Bond with someone else, and others can only have one Bond with each member of the Pair.

When they Fill Their Belly, the Pair only spends 1 Food, but they each heal one damage.

Working Alone: When The Pair is separated, they make rolls with their separated stats and get the Spotlight separately.

-When one of the Pair is acting to rescue, protect, or rush to the side of the other, they roll with Hope.

-Working Alone is dangerous, as you rely on your teamwork. When you take damage while Working Alone, you must also pay a price.

Working Together: When The Pair is together, they act as a single unit in perfect harmony. They combine their stats when making a move, and they share the Spotlight together. If either of you has Hope or Despair, you both do.

-When you Keep Them Busy together, only one of you needs to stay to Keep Them Busy. The other may disengage and begin Working Alone.

-When you Get Away or Look Closely together, you may split up. If you do, each of you may choose different options from that move's list, and you are now Working Alone.

-When one of you takes damage while Working Together, the other takes damage to the same stat, if it is undamaged.

Heroic Association: The Pair Commands Lore about an organization, instead of a society. You come from a company of mercenaries, bounty hunters, heroes, or some other such group. You Command Lore about who they are, what they want, their place in the world, their culture, their rivals, their enemies, and their laws, just as everyone else does.

Daring Devils:
-When you need a cool prop appropriate to your environment, like a chandelier to drop, a window to leap out of, or a vine to swing from, it's there.
-When you use the terrain to protect you, you may Overcome using +Grace instead of +Blood. Leaping off of tall places to escape danger always counts as using the terrain to protect you.

Who Are the Pair?

Fated Pair: The two of you are inseparable, a perfect combination. When you are Working Together, you roll with Hope.

The Pair Custom

Heroes of the People: You do not need to roll to Speak Softly with common folk, friends, or coworkers - simply ask, and they will answer.

Taste my Blade!: When you engage in swordplay with an enemy, you may Keep Them Busy with +Grace. On a 7-9, after their retaliation, you may insult them or make a quip to Keep Them Busy again, as if you'd rolled another 7-9 result.

Mismatched Pair: Each member of the Pair takes a Custom move from a different playbook. Keep track of who took which move. Each of them may only use their chosen move while Working Alone.

Vasilia: Listen Here You Little Punk:  When you Talk Sense by telling them what will happen to them if they do not do as you ask, Talk Sense with +Blood, and on a 7-9, they cannot ask their favor of you until after they have done what you asked of them.

Dolce: I've Got A Bad Feeling About This: When you're certain something's wrong here, you may ask the Overlord to tell you the safest way out, and also the quickest way out. They will answer truthfully

Vasilia's Gear
-An elegant sabre, the twin of Dolce's (Melee)
-A grav-rail glaive with its own independent gravity field (Melee, Clumsy, Dangerous)
-An elegant, long-barreled SP rifle (Ranged, Reload, Piercing)
-An brace of pistols, blessed by Zeus (Ranged, Piercing, Dangerous, Recharge)
-An Anathame. A knife with her name on it. (Protection against a Location stat, will betray her at any opportunity. Damage a stat to destroy permanently.)

Dolce's Gear
-An elegant sabre, the twin of Vasilia's (Melee)
-A tasteful variety of well-preserved foodstuffs (Food, 3 Uses [X][][])
-Household odds and ends, turned to creatively underhanded purpose (Useful, 2 Uses [X][])
-A travel-sized cocktail kit, amply supplied (Slow, Vigor, 2 Uses [][])

Vasilia's Bonds
-If it's a night for drinking, I'm with Alexa. No one else.
-Iskarot and I have a professional respect for each other. And, personally, his straightforwardness is refreshing.
-Bella carried me to her room. Shared of her private stock of wine. And for a moment, we might've trusted each other.

Dolce's Bonds
-Redana and I have spent hours together on the observation deck, watching Poseidon's wonders.
-I am convinced that Alexa can taste, she just hasn't found a meal she could taste yet.

Advancements:
-Paired Custom: Taste my Blade!
-Paired Custom: Mismatched Pair
-Stat increase: Vasilia takes +1 Sense
-LEVEL UP NEEDED

[User]
Alexa!

Redana laughs. It's not an elegant laugh; it's a snorting giggle with an edge of being completely overwhelmed. An "I am blitzed out" laugh. When she looks up at you, you get the sense that she is not looking at but through you.

"You... are a big virgin," she says, eloquently. "Isn't love a battlefield?" Redana, what? She pats your, um. Pectorals. "It's raining cards," she adds, going boneless and slithering her way out of your arms. She does a funny little hop-skip, still avoiding too much pressure on her leg as she nimbly gets out of reach. "And Bella had a shining spear, and Aphrodite shot me, and there was an eye of skulls. No. An skull of eyes. I think we're being watched."

And then she looks up at the stands. She looks, and looks, and looks.

"Yep!" She nods her head, satisfied. "There it is!" When she turns back to you, the sun peeks through the oppressive clouds for just a moment, just a moment, her hair flaring into a golden halo. "Let's go say hello! Even if we have to fight, you're here[1]!"

And she proceeds forward towards the stands, but at a much more catchable speed.

***

[1]: an ambiguous statement. Is she talking to you, Alexa, her bodyguard, in the flush and afterglow of a vision of Olympus above, beyond? Or is she speaking to your mother, whose face you share?

[Assistant]
This is truly excellent wine. Even as warm as it is, every tiny sip cascades like a river of flavors across her tongue and disappears down her throat as gentle as a spring rain. It is rich, intoxicating, and decadent in a way servitor wine could never be by way of its very design: the taste of grape is heady and strong, but underneath it instead of the watery oiliness she's used to there's a bouquet of new flavors dancing through her mouth.

There are notes of smoke and an earthy kind of bite that takes her some moments to place before she realizes with a widening of her eyes that the drink had been stored and aged in a wooden cask. She lacks the vocabulary to even guess what sort, but she's certain, yes she is. And underneath even this wonderful prize is a thin line of persimmon and even cinnamon. It's a rich treasury of seemingly infinite delights that forces her to take the delicate and refined sips of an Empress lest the sensation of the wine itself leave her drunk, a far cry from the way her own stock so warmly encourages guzzling and (merriment thereafter).

Bella swirls the glass in between her fingers with a curious smirk etched across her face. She's never had cause to savor drink before. Never had a reason to use her fingers like this. There is power in this motion, she feels it purring in her chest. And yet for all of the wonder of the drink being so thoughtlessly poured for her benefit, she can tell at a sniff that the extreme age of the stuff has diminished it greatly. There's a mustiness to the smell and a thinness to the flavor that only becomes more noticeable the longer her tongue has to adjust to it, and every now and then a note so sour it threatens to drag her breakfast back up her throat.

She drinks on. Her wine, her precious gift and refuge, is the power and ingenuity of an entire Empire, or more accurately an Empress bent toward the sole design of lifting the crowded masses closer to the light. The stuff in her hand is the work of another Empire toward brandishing a light so high above the crowd and so bright that even daring to reach for it would blind all but the gods themselves and send the thief tumbling, broken, to the depths of Tartarus to suffer for their hubris. This is a drink for kings, and even then it's a pale imitation of Her Imperial Highness' own stock, which was so strong that when she was a kitten just the smell of important people drinking it from across the room was enough to make Bella's toes curl. Once, she'd had to carry a pair of glasses for the Empress and the Princess, and the fumes had been so overwhelming she'd had to excuse herself from the ball immediately thereafter so she could find a closet to faint in.

If she dared to lap at that ambrosia, she would surely be tortured for all eternity. Cut apart and sewn together again in a cycle with no end. But this in her hand was the shadow of that folly. This, surely, was allowed to a Praetor. She sips the wine again and holds it in her mouth just long enough to feel the dryness start to settle in, then swallows thoughtfully. She chuckles.

"What an idiot. Look at her, do you see? She hasn't been letting them take care of her properly. They probably don't know how, those dipshits. Ha, just look at her dance!"

Bella's eyes gleam with delight. She grins toothily as her legs cross together, and lowers her glass to rest near the Imperial Box as she lifts her other hand up to rest her cheek on its curled wrist. Her tail swishes with the primal delight of a predator spotting the flash of a wing inside a bush.

"I don't care what happens to Alexa, but the Princess is my concern. Nobody lays a hand on her but me, you got that? But this is fine. Continue dancing or... whatever. This is fine, let them come to us. I've waited this long, I don't mind waiting just a little bit longer."

She squeezes the stem of her wine glass. Where her claws find the surface, it starts to crack.

[User]
Oh. Good. She was alive and conscious for the embarrassing portion of the landing. What a blessing.

"Captain, are you alright?" Clever hands made short work of her restraints, and Dolce offered her a hand up. It was not quite…

Oh, leave off it. She rose like a dream, escorted from her seat like royalty from a carriage on their way to a fancy dress ball. There was absolutely no difficulties with either knee-high water or legs that refused to function as they should. When she reclined against the front viewport, it was to better take in the surrounding scenery. And if anyone had any complaints as to the accuracy of her account, they could submit them in writing, in triplicate, and she would burn them immediately.

Dolce squeezed her hand comfortingly. Well. Perhaps she'd burn them at her earliest convenience. "Sound off, everyone. Quietly now, we've already made enough of an entrance. Galnius, to me, when you can stand."

Dolce hurried off to help the others up, and she returned her attention to the viewport. When the sound of wading hoplite drew near, she turned briefly to take him in. Still standing, a bit unsteady, none too pleased, but what else was new? Whatever, she could work with it. "What's your read?" She asked, turning back to the window. "Everything this side of the planet must have seen us go down. We need someplace to get our feet under us, but if stay here we'll end up fighting room-to-room in a spa."

[Rolling to Look Closely: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7: How can we all get out of here to someplace safe to regroup?]


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

---

Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
Quinn gripped her hand, hard, and Besca stroked her arm worriedly. She was afraid again, or rather more afraid. Her outburst when she'd woken up had been concerning, of course, but given what she'd survived, it was easy to write off as hysterics. Or it would have been, had she not had a frankly staggering amount of modium in her system.

That happened now and then, especially when the singularities were so close. Had anyone else survived, Besca was certain they'd have had a mass-poisoning to manage in the aftermath.

But Quinn hadn't been poisoned. At least, the singularity hadn't put that much modium in her. She had a growth in her eye socket, small, filed. Those sort of symptoms only popped up in two kinds of people: pilots, and those with severe, or chronic exposure.

"Just don't...don't send me back!"

Something was wrong. Oh god. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. A hundred puzzle pieces scattered themselves on the floor of her brain, and as she scrambled to fit them together into that atrocious picture, she saw Follen's eyes shift to her, and his smile thinned, ever so slightly and so briefly it would have passed before Quinn's blink.

He already knew.

This was over. It had been over before she'd walked into his office—before the surgery, even.

"Quinn," he said, and his jovial tone turned serious, but no less comforting. "That is the absolute last thing I want. That's why I did this—for you."

He sat up in his chair, upright, authoritative. "I saw how good of friends you were, how important you seemed to each other. I wanted to protect that. And I thought of other ways, internships, secretarial work, but considering how much of a…toll this tragedy has taken on the RISC, that all simply isn't viable. Legally speaking, we're obligated to return you to your parents as soon as possible." He shook his head. "I don't want that. Besca doesn't want that. Quinn, I don't think you want that, either.

"So I did the only thing I could, the only option left to us. If we're going to keep you here, we have to tie you to RISC, indelibly. We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away."

Besca frowned. She could have begged him not to say it.

"You're going to be a pilot."

[Assistant]
"You're going to be a pilot."

Quinn froze.

Cold sweat beaded on her neck, trickling around the little circles that she was suddenly very aware of.

You're pilot Dahlia, right?

You said you were a pilot too, right Safie?

Her teeth started to chatter.

If I'd have grown up here I'd never have become a pilot.

She stared at Doctor Follen, eye twitching ever so slightly. It couldn't—that didn't make any—

"No, I—No, no I can't, I—"

We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away.

"N—no, no no—" She clutched at Besca's arm again, this time with both hands, gripping it as tightly as she could with her aching body. "Pilots—they—"

An image flashed in front of her eyes: Safie's Savior, head shorn from its shoulders, looming over the crumbled corpse of Hovvi. Another image: a Savior screaming towards the elevator out of the night, growing larger in her sight as she walked-stumbled-crawled away. A slideshow of violence shuttered across her mind. There was that keening sound again.

...Oh. It was still her, wasn't it?

But more images: Besca holding open the door. The cookies she'd bought on the street. Stroking her hair, Breathe. You didn't do anything wrong. The needles at home, staring at the door, staring at the screen, lying on the bed for hours and hours and hours, days filled with white walls and gray and gray and gray. She didn't want to go back. She didn't didn't didn't.

She clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the sound. She closed her eye and concentrated on Besca's hand on her shoulder. She didn't want to leave her. She couldn't leave her. If she left her, she didn't know what she'd do, what she could do. Her teeth still chattered. She felt a little bit like she couldn't breathe. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want—Besca was there. Besca wouldn't let her go back.

"Th—"

She couldn't stop the chattering, cutting up her words and turning them almost incomprehensible. "The—there's—rea—eal—lly...no o—o—other w—way?"

[User]
Besca gritted her teeth when she figured Quinn wasn't looking, tried to keep herself calm as the girl began to shiver apart again. Follen's eyes heavied with perfect, reptilian sympathy, that left no trace of the smugness he'd shown her.

"I wish very much that there was, Quinn. I would have gladly opted to simply hide you away here, but, with Besca's new position of authority…well, it could get both of you in a lot of trouble. And then you'd just get sent home anyway."

He shook his head again, as if he'd tried to consider it. "No. No, I'm afraid this is the only way we can keep you here. And…well, I'm afraid I don't even know if it's certain to work, yet."

"Aldous…" Besca said, embarrassed by how close it sounded to a plea.

"Besca," he replied evenly. "We should be honest with her. She deserves that from us both, don't you think? And besides, friends are honest with each other."

Follen got up, walked around the desk and crouched down beside Quinn's seat. Besca fought the urge to pull her away. Even harder she fought the urger to lash out and swat him.

"Quinn," he said, in a soft voice she knew he'd picked up from her, from how she talked to Dahlia. "You see, I've done what I can. I pushed you to the front of the line, and together Besca and I can get you into the seat—but you have to perform. I know it sounds cold, it is, and it's not fair, either. I want you to know I wouldn't have done this if I didn't have every confidence in you."

He reached a hand out, stroked her other shoulder. The hair on the back of Besca's neck bristled.

"You are a strong, brave girl. You are sitting here with us right now, because you are meant for this. And I know, I know it deep in my heart that you will fight for what's important to you. Besca and I, we'll both be right there with you, every step, no matter what. You will have our undivided support. The only thing we want you to do is your best." His eyes turned up to her, smile unflinching. "Isn't that right, commander?"

She swallowed hard. She didn't know what to say. Again. God, it seemed like she never did. There was too much to think about, between the horrific secret of Quinn's past, to the potentially catastrophic future awaiting her. A sword dangling over the girl's head, bound by so many threads but every one Besca tried to untangle seemed to loosen two more, and if she wasn't careful the thing would plunge.

She had to tell herself again that she'd lost. That Follen had won at a game she hadn't even known she was playing.

"He's right," she said, finally. The words were acid in her throat. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. This is…this is the only way."

Besca squeezed Quinn's hand back, tight. "I'm sorry…"