[System]
Alias: Stim

Age: 48

Personality: She is opinionated, independent, and very much into exploring more options than those presented to her. Many people find her a bit charming due to her confident but slightly off-kilter sense of humor and speech. She appreciates humor and wit. Her freedom with her opinion leads her to expect others to share their opinions. As such, Ambrosine is a large proponent for free speech and directness. She is an introvert but is not unsociable by any stretch of the imagination. She can and will jump into the line of fire to move injured to a safe place for treatment. She is an atheist, but she tends to be unobtrusive with it. She is heavily driven by ambition to become a better medical provider and save those around her.

Appearance: Ambrosine stands at 5'4" and sports a well muscled, often called amazonian, build. Her hair is light brown, and her eyes are an icy blue. Her skin has absolutely no imperfections due to her regeneration. Her features are moderately sharp, lending her a default stern appearance. She also tends towards an eternal small scowl as her default expression. Nothing about her is delicate looking and instead follows the amazonian style of being muscular, strong, and lithe. When not working as a doctor, she will wear comfortable athletic wear or, if she can fully relax safely, a set of sweatpants and a t-shirt. If needing more formal attire, she goes for a simple and elegant button up blouse and dress pants. Over the blouse, she wears a dress jacket or vest that allows her to hide her pistol if she expects trouble. On missions, she wears standard gear or clothing. To conceal her identity, she prefers to wear a balaclava and goggles. Her medical bag is essentially a modified messenger bag, so it slings over her shoulder easily.

Capabilities: Ambrosine, following a supernatural encounter, has ceased to exist within the bonds of what most know as fate. As such, she regenerates wounds slowly and is effectively immortal. She does not age, eat, drink, breathe, or sleep. She can choose to eat or drink for the purpose of medication or pleasure, but she cannot naturally fall asleep. This does not prevent knockouts or drug induced unconsciousness. Due to her regeneration, she metabolizes drugs, toxins, poisons, and other chemicals at an increased pace, so for her to self-medicate, she must reapply it more frequently, thus taking more doses than her comrades.

She has medical experience equivalent to any degree holding doc, but she has also learned how to perform surgery and medical attention in subpar conditions, with salvaged materials, and with makeshift tools.

History: Ambrosine grew up in the slums. Her grandmother, mother, and father lived in the same lean-to. Her mother worked as a street doc while her father was a baker. Her grandmother was far too old to work, but she did act as a preacher for the surrounding families. Due to her hefty faith, Ambrosine's grandmother gave her a St. Christopher medal. This was to both protect her granddaughter and spur her to faith. Despite this and her grandmother's constant push to talk about scripture and faith, Ambrosine grew up as an atheist. She found the ideas to be irrational given the societal situation. Then, she read the Bible. From there, she grew to reject the entirety of religion. In addition, in her journey to atheism, she learned from her mother as well as studied anatomy and biology from any books and scraps she could find or steal. That started her initial push into the medical field.

When she was old enough to help, her mother took her in as a nurse. As she grew in medical knowledge, Ambrosine elevated over the years until she and her mother were both full doctors when she turned 18. However, even two doctors in the slums could stop age from taking Ambrosine's grandmother. On her death bed, the grandmother told Ambrosine to keep making her proud and to rise above the slums. Ambrosine, as the last thing she ever said to her grandmother, said that she would leave the slums and become a doctor for anyone in need. Unfortunately, she never got the chance to leave the slums before Ultralight found her.

On her 23rd birthday, Ambrosine managed to secure a place as a nurse in a hospital in the better part of town. Excited for the next step, Ambrosine practically bounced through her patients that day. Her last patient got dragged in by two oddly dressed people. The man introduced himself as Boomstick. Being used to odd nicknames, Ambrosine paid little mind and looked at their companion. He had multiple stab and gunshot wounds, but he was still alive and might pull through. Without delay, she set to work, having the companions stand outside to wait and be out of her way. While removing the bullets, weird black goo started to ooze out of one of them. It made her nervous, but her commitment to save her patient kept her in place. She opened the wound some to inspect it, but the incision almost explosively expanded. From the incision, a hungry blackness consumed the patient and corner of the room. Ambrosine tried to run away, but tendrils of inky blackness shot out and began to drag her towards the hungry maw. She couldn't resist the dragging, but she did manage to grab two things: a bottle of silver nitrate and a pair of surgical scissors. Once pulled through, she discovered that the place was some sort of alternate dimension. There was a constant low light that allowed just enough vision to see somewhat, but it gave no ability to see minute details. Something writhed just beyond her sight. More tendrils moved forward. Using her scissors, she tried to fight them off, stabbing any tendrils that came close. Unfortunately, the number of tendrils overwhelmed her and dragged her deeper into the darkness. As she was drawn closer to the creature, Ambrosine was met with black orbs that probably constituted eyes. Seeing some sort of target, she reared back and threw the silver nitrate bottle as hard as she could, assuming the glass might cause some damage. To her surprise, the liquid inside caused more immediate effects. A mixture of sickly glowing ichor sprayed all over her. The creature let go of her, roaring in agony. Ambrosine took the opportunity to get on her feet and run towards the light of the tear in reality behind her. The creature was preoccupied, thus letting her leap back through the tear. Once out, she noticed the tear had been slowly closing the whole time. Knowing silver nitrate seemed to affect the creature, she grabbed a spare bottle and threw it on the edge of the tear. It seemed to have an effect and closed the rest off the tear almost immediately. Boomstick and the other companion ran in to see a black, oozing corspe of their companion and Ambrosine on the ground, convulsing from the ichor that had started to seep into her body. Ambrosine was essentially stuck in her own head and locked in the grip of pain. She didn't notice the two standing over her, guns drawn and ready to shoot her. She came out of it a few minutes later, the ichor gone. She felt unusual, an odd heavy and alien feeling permeating her body. She looked fine and looked up at Boomstick. Her first words were, "I copuldn't save him." Boomstick rolled his eyes and hefted her up, convincing her, rather easily, to follow him. They took her to some run down and out of the way building. There, they ran her through test after test and interrogations galore. They determined her sanity intact, if shaken by a brush with the supernatural. They also determined that she no longer had physical needs and her "blood" was essentuially a modified version of the ooze that came from their companion. Despite being tainted in some way from an alien realm, Ambrosine was cleared to exist. Boomstick immediately sent in to recruit her into Ultralight since he needed a new recruit and her being a doctor was gravy.

From there, she spent years developing her field medic skills as well as learning what the ichor caused. In addition to not having physical needs, Ambrosine learned that wounds healed automatically, even going so far as to regrow or reattach limbs. An unfortunate headshot made her learn that she would eventually even come back from fatal wounds. She also ceased to age. She never grew a wrinkle, gained a scar, or even got a gray hair. She was effectively an immortal.

Some of the squads she worked with over the years tried to figure out exactly why she gained immortality. They knew the direct cause was the ichor from another dimension, but they wanted to know why the interaction caused her specific powers. Over about a decade, Ambrosine worked with many of the occult specialists and veteran operatives. They ran tests, spiritual and scientific. Eventually, they came upon an idea that she was infused with that realm's essence and thus immortal due to that realm's properties. Then, they set out to figure out what realm she actually became a part of. They tried elemental tests to see if she was immune to any particular element. None bore fruit. Then, they tried holy water or profane rituals. Neither worked. Eventually, they tried some experiments involving spiritualists dealing with karma, fate, or any other form of predetermined outcome. Any time they tried to force and outcome, she was not bound to it. Foresight could not predict her next move. Luck alteration powers could not make her succeed or fail. From exhaustive testing, they determined that she was most likely infused with pure chaos, thus being an opposite to the order of fate and most of reality. This hybridization of her made her immortal as it would be orderly to die or change state according to damage. Thus, as a being of chaos, she could not suffer lasting damage. At least, that is what she was told.

Now, with the knowledge in hand that she is not bound to a set of determined values or endings, Ambrosine threw herself into missions and more learning, striving even harder to defy her upbringing. Until now, she has been simply an Ultralight field medic. Her end goal is to rise above being a street doc and become an actual clinic operator that can provide high quality care to the slums around her.

Equipment:

Medic Bag: While normally worn as a backpack, this pack contains supplementary tools, drugs, and materials to treat wounds in the field.

Bullpup PDW: She managed to get a bullpup PDW chambered in 5.7mm armor piercing rounds. She keeps it in the nearest safehouse for missions and relies upon Ultralight to keep her stocked up on ammo.

10mm Subcompact Handgun: This is her personal sidearm for daily wear. She keeps it in good condition and tends to buy her own ammo for non-mission use.

Knuckledusters and Sap Gloves: Ambrosine keeps both on hadn at all times in case of a brawl. She prefers to use the sap gloves to disable an attacker, but she uses the knuckledusters to kill as necessary.

Large security flashlight: She carries one of these at all times for the sake of being able to use it for light during treatment as well as light at night. It makes a handy club.

Other: She is a native English speaker and fluent in both French and Mandarin. She has a St. Christopher medal from her grandmother as a keepsake that she flips through her fingers when thinking or needing to occupy her fingers. Her blood is a black ichor that behaves exactly as blood but smells like a sickening mixture of honey, sulfur, and mold.

[User]
A particularly dour man in scavenger's rags sat on the couch, a dismantled magnetic rifle laid out in the table in front of him as he cleaned and repaired the weapon. Asche looked up from his rifle, watching with an expression of morbid curiosity as Magpie returned to the safe house. At that moment, he decided staying in to repair his rifle rather than going on patrol was the right call. "Trouble, smells like"

The former EDENPOL officer began to re-assemble the magnetic rifle as he listened in on the conversation between Cider and Mags, "Going to be a mission, looks like. Finally." the black-eyed contractor observed; rising from his seat and slinging the rifle across his broad shoulders as soon as he finished restoring it. Asche took a moment to adjust the bandages on his arms, tightening them and making sure they were secured properly. While not a debilitating weakness, exposing the corruption to the light ached horribly and he couldn't afford distractions while in the field.

As soon as Magpie and Cider parted ways Asche approached his liaison, his heavy boots thudding against the safehouse floor,"What do we know about this thing, other than it being really bad at dying?" he asked plainly, glancing towards the bathroom, "Though I suppose I should ask Magpie about that." out of the corner of his eye, he spotted another of the contractors doing just that, "Or I can ask him on the ride over."

Of course even knowing exactly what sort of being they were being sent out to eliminate wouldn't do Asche much good; his power was ill-suited for direct combat, and if bullets didn't hurt it his main weapon was dead weight. "Could stab, might not work. Arms ripped off, didn't kill it." The large man shook his head; now wasn't the time for doubts. It was the time for action. "Anyways, ready to depart as soon as the group is suited up. Don't know the area so I'll be tagging along the old fashioned way."

[Assistant]
As Cassian tried to gain the attention of Magpie, the shuffling inside of the bathroom stopped for a moment. At first, there was no response. For an awkward amount of time, there was some banging, spilling of water, and pain-filled expletives that came from within. Finally, the door partially opened. There emerged a Magpie, clean but not dry. Her hair was still sopping, dripping outside of the washroom as she leaned her head out.

"Well, what's there to know? What it is or what it do?" She stated, her voice was laced with a venom of disinterest and disrespect. "Thing's a skinless freak. Its arms were less arm and more blade. Like if someone sliced beneath your elbow and replaced those with swords or something. Tore 'em off so you don't have to deal with them. Moved weird, too. It had bad control over its body, but it was still freakishly fast. Hard to read."

After sharing the basics, Magpie's face became a bit more serious. She seemed to have some difficulties recalling what had happened."One of the cops shot it for a bit. It healed up from those. Besides healing, it ain't very durable. Felt like an ordinary human. Weaker, even. You guys can probably deal with it. Probably."

Her head retracted back into the washroom and the sounds of washing up resumed.

[User]
Ambrosine was late to the party. She had to deal with a couple minor burns and set a few broken bones. Someone got rowdy at a bonfire, so she was stuck cleaning up the mess. Once she walked through the door, the distinct odor of medical cleaning and old blood wafted into her nose. With a grim, "Hmmmmm," she looked around to try and find Cider. She saw many of the usual suspects in the safe house. After all, she saw virtually all of them as recruits. They seemed oddly riled up, so whatever happened required her attention.

Not seeing Cider right off the bat, Ambrosine cleared her throat and loudly spoke up. "I smell a clinic. Who is injured? Why did it happen? Most importantly, will a standard dose work for them?" She flipped up the flap to her medic bag and brought out a syringe full of painkillers to add emphasis to her point. Her other hand closed the door behind her. With that, she began to patiently walk through the safehouse, her steely gaze scrutinizing every member's current health as if to try and seek out who decided to start bleeding near her.


[System]
Age: 48

Race: Human

Appearance:

Personality: Allanon is a pensive man having lived a life seeing the darker side of humanity he carries many of his decisions with a lot of weight. He is decisive and discerning. He appreciates the small joys in life whenever he can afford to. He very much likes to reminisce over his childhood as it was a simple time where his decisions had little impact over others lives. His word means everything to him.

Allanon grew up as a member of the wealthy Valentis family. He was the fourth son and grew up with less responsibility than his older brothers as they were the ones to take over the administrative work of their company. Early on he took a deep interest in swordsmanship and learned as much as he could from various tutors and mercenaries.

The day Allanon became an adult was supposed to be a celebrated day, however, his father and oldest brother had entirely unexpected plans. Debts were being called by the Calabris family, and instead of money they wanted Allanon. Apparently, his martial skills had caught the attention of their family head: Varic Calabris. If the Calabris family desired, the Valentis family could be completely wiped out by them, and Allanon knew this. This was the first time that he felt the burden of responsibility, although at the time he only felt trapped and betrayed.

Taken away from his life of freedom, he was brought to the household of the Calabris family and presented to Varic himself. Varic explained how he was seeking talented individuals to make an elite team to work exclusively for his family. Allanon would be one of seven, but first a six month intensive training session was required of all of them to test their potential. Allanon reluctantly agreed as he knew he had no real choice, and before long he had to forget his reluctance to survive the training.

He built a good relationship with each member of the team as they were sent on black ops missions for the Calabris family. Some were stealth retrieval while others were bloody executions. Each of them knew the price of failure. One member of the team: Marissa Faye was the beacon of light in their team. In spite of the often awful tasks they were sent to do, she kept their morale up. Allanon admired her for her attitude and as time passed they fell in love and eventually married. Instead of rings they had a matching pair of longswords made as a symbol of how they met.

At 40 came the worst betrayal. Considering them too old to be effective, Allanon's team was executed by the Calabris family. At least they attempted to. A full platoon of mercenaries was hired to eliminate what had come to be known as the Ironblades. All government officials had been paid off to view them as criminals, and bounties were placed on each of their heads. The initial assault was defeated, but at the cost of two members of the Ironblades including Marissa. Her dying wish was for Allanon to do his best to create as much light as he could in this world, and he promised he would.

The Ironblades agreed to split up and go into hiding while making contact once a year to keep tabs. Over the next eight years two of the five remaining Ironblades were caught and slain. Allanon was the only one to remain in Portea the whole time. He started working as a vigilante and consultant for those in need in exchange for nothing.

Equipment:
Matched Longswords: While his sword style is a single sword style he has kept Marissa's golden blade with him as a reminder of his promise to her. They are enchanted so that so long as they are in close proximity to each other they will maintain and repair themselves.

Throwing Daggers: He has ten of these on a bandolier ready to throw as needed.

Abilities:
Valentis Sword Style: A balanced single-sword style created by Allanon over his lifetime. It is renowned as one of the best sword styles in the world for many-on-one combat.

Stealth and Disguise: Many of Allanon's operations required the use of stealth and disguise, and while it was not his primary role he learned many things from the now deceased Ironblade that was responsible for disguise.

Extra notes:

[User]
On his way out the door she would reply, "Hey my lucky charm Sahale! Long time but it seems like you always find my ass, I will look into it may or may not do it though see ya next time honey" She smirked slyly at him as she leaned on her desk bending at the hip and folding her arms, she wondered where he was off to as Ren eyed him out the window now walking towards the market area. "That damn guy always a laugh" she silently chuckled to herself moving her fist up to her face covering her laugh.

Ren thought of this target, seemed like an interesting person considering she herself was born and raised like a Sylve and she loved the culture behind dancing. Killing the target seemed a bit sour but she decided to gather some intel on this woman at least. Wondering to herself as she looked out the window, "Will I ever find anything of my Gruskan heritage this way" Shaking her head while scratching the nape of her neck she needed an information broker, "Maybe that flirt Sahale could help out." She whispered to herself.

Going back to the register now, Ren called some of her little birds over asking them if they knew anything about the dance teacher down the street. With some replies of "She is pretty" She got nothing but asked them again. "Can you guys find out anything more about her and let me know?" A couple of them nodding and running off, others stayed behind for some candies at the front register and looked at gadgets and items she had. Seemed like business wasn't doing so bad but she could use some coin, she would need it in the future.

Sitting at the register she would make exchanges here and there with various customers all the while reading her tomes, but then one of the children came running into the store gasping while talking "the store *gasp* is in ruin and *gasp* madame is hurt." The sound of the child's gasping was soon overrun with the murmurs of the crowd outside. Looking out the window she saw a man carrying her target into the temple right next to her shop. Her jaw dropped a little in astonishment of the coincidence of it all. They seemed rushed and really hurt, not wanting to draw the attention they did. It seemed like a mystery and Ren was hooked she just had to find out what was going on and how they were all linked together, Sahale, the Calibris family, herself, and this pretty dancer from kalla. Ren walked to the window and asked the child, "What did you see at the store? What happened here?" As she silently waited for the non existent answer, because the child could not answer. Staring at the massive crowd gathered right outside she smirked, an interesting adventure seemed to be stirring.

[Assistant]
Allanon remained silent as people questioned him about what happened. He could already see the suspicion forming in their eyes. These people were not combatants, but they could cause trouble if the opportunity arose. He could not trust any of them anyways. What if they were spies for the Calabris family trying to get more information out of him? The less they knew the better regardless.

If he could keep some people untainted by the Calabris family he would.

Red Saints. This caused Allanon some relief. Of all the families that were in charge of Portea they were the ones he trusted the most. Two beastmen. Unusual sights in Portea, but since he had arrived in Kalla he had seen more of them. One of them seemed to recognize him and commented on his appearance.

The bounty on his head listed all the crimes he had committed while under the "employment" of the Calabris family. The truth was his infamy was well-earned. The only thing was it was a secret until the Calabris family decided to "retire" the Ironblades. Again, he decided to remain silent. They could come to their own truth. He had no illusions about his past. He was responsible for the crimes he committed back then, but he also had a promise to keep.

The first step of Allanon's plan was already at work. The news spread by all of those that witnessed him carrying her from her school to the temple would be more than enough to catch the attention of the Calabris family operation. Madame Valia was already bait, but it made him feel better that she was willing to help. She was right that it would be better if she could walk.

He resisted slightly as he was ushered out of the room he had brought Valia to. He wanted to be in the best position to protect her should an assassin arrive. After he did leave the room he stood by the door maintaining constant vigilance. It would be a matter of time before someone with the intent to kill arrived.

He placed his hand on his wife's sword and sighed. "I hope I'm doing right by you, honey. I hope that every day."

[User]
Ren

 While there was commotion outside from the people that gathered around the temple, there wasn't much information aside from what Ren had seen and heard already. Valia's school of dance seemed to be wrecked and she was quite injured when she had arrived to the temple. Listening to the crowd, she would learn that there were healers in the temple, and two volunteers from a group called the Red Saints inside as well, apparently here to help with injuries caused by repelling a small raid on the town a little over two weeks ago. Something about the man who carried Valia into the temple may seem vaguely familiar, perhaps a bounty that Sahale carried around with him, as he did carry a number of them. If they were too high, however, he usually didn't willingly give them to her. After all, a dead person can't complete commissions and Sahale hated seeing a pretty face go to waste, so there were some missions he would hold out on her, but he always described it as being in their mutual best interests. If Ren wanted to learn more about what was going on, she would either have to go inside herself, or wait for them to come out.

Kistal

 The in was simple, yet cozy. Rugged wooden tables and benches all worn smooth over years of frequent use. The smell of spices filled the room from the kitchen, curry by the smell of it. As it was the middle of the day, the fireplace off to the left wall of the inn was unlit. Against the back wall was the bar, four large long tables filed the room, and to the right was a staircase that led up to the rooms that the inn would rent out. There was a heavyset man tending to the bar, though it was easy to see that beneath his heavier weight lied a mountain of muscle. The bar around him was larger than most and seemed custom made to accommodate his giant-like physique. To anyone who was a regular here, he was known to be his own bouncer, and in a land of strong warriors, that was saying a lot. All that aside however the man seemed fairly jovial. He saw a Kistal walk into his bar and he couldn't hide the surprise on his face, though his ever present grin still seemed to be there.

 "Well, I'll be. Welcome ta Sworn Spirits lad. Me own inn and tavern. Can't say I'd ever seen a satyr in these parts, hope the heat don't get to ya too bad. Least the night will be a bit more comfy for ya. Trust me, gets colder than a witch's bosom at night it does!" He laughed heartily, "M'name's Allard, what'll ya be havin', friend?"

 After listening to Kistal's request, Allard scratched his beard in thought. "Hmmmm, well, lets see 'ere," he said as he took a peek into the kitchen. He came back out rubbing his hands together. "Seems like tha curry chicken will be ready 'ere in a sec. Meat's fallin off tha bone, it is. Should be great. And as fur drinks, well, not sure of the pairin' but other than the regular corn whiskey an ale, we do make a fine rum if I do say so m'self."

Allanon

 About an hour seemed to pass before Alanon heard from the room. The priest was called away to go deal with the crowd and assure them that Valia was fine, and to disperse. The healer came out of the room, looking quite tired as she stored a spellbook. a few of the vials on her belt were now empty as well. She looked to the others and gave a weak but reassuring smile. She turned to Allanon as he was the one who brought her in. "The damage was quite extensive. The people who did this seemed to be aimed at crippling her rather than killing her....at least... at first... I don't know what all she told you, but something wrong is definitely going on here. I'm Neev and the happy guy over there is Vog," she said gesturing toward the drake beastman, who one could swear was a few shades of red after watching the whole ordeal as he walked out with her. "If you need our help for anything else, please don't hesitate to ask. Madame Valia will be fine. She should be able to walk, but nothing too strenuous, alright? She still need to heal naturally. Now, she is getting dressed so just give er a moment. I'll be...taking a cat nap." Neev finally said as she walked to one of the free infirmary beds and curled up in it, Vog sitting in the chair beside her. He didn't trust Allanon. He didn't know how much of the stories were true, but he didn't have a reason to doubt them yet, and until then, he stayed on guard.

 A few moments later, Valia stepped out, adjusting the final bit of cloth as to tie it in a bow behind her to keep her skirt up. she looked to Allanon and gave a bow. "I must thank you for your help, apparently, much longer and the damage may have been irreparable. Now, I believe it is my turn to help you, correct? I will try to help as much as I am able."

[Assistant]
Allanon had plenty of time to consider a next course of action from here. After all these years of working in the shadows to avoid the direct attention of the Calabris family while fulfilling his wife's last wish Allanon had built his skills in subterfuge and intrigue to what would qualify as a skillful level. He had two options at this point: stay here and wait for the hit squad to come and finish their job, or take a serious risk and step into an unfamiliar city to act as a body guard. He was not at all interested in losing control over his environment if he could help it.

The healer stepped out after an hour and filled him in on the situation. The catwoman wrapped up her explanation with a rather ironic joke which caused Allanon to raise an eyebrow and then chuckle a little bit. "Well, thank you." The Saints he knew were a good humored people. He was glad that the pair here appeared much the same.

Once Valia stepped out from the infirmary and told him she was ready Allanon replied to give her a choice. "The Calabris family I know will not let you be until it becomes too expensive for them, their operation here is dead, or you are dealt with appropriately in their eyes. We have a couple choices here. We can wait here for them to show up, and if they are Calabris mercenaries and not some third party hire it's possible I can get a direct lead to their operation's base and shut it down. The second choice is more aggressive and risky. We can leave here and make our way to another location where we can control the flow of who's coming in and who's coming out. The risk comes with the getting there and if they have someone with better stealth skills than my senses can detect."

He paused to give her some time to consider before continuing. "I will let you know. I prefer the first choice, but this is your life, and I want you to choose in this instance. I will keep you protected either way. I can guarantee there are few that are my equal with swordsmanship and fewer that are above without the aid of magic."

Allanon probably had the fewest answers to magic, however it was so restrictive and rare that he also rarely had to deal with dangerous magic situations. Only an idiot or another magic-user would dare risk facing a prepared magic-user head on. Everyone knew that.


[System]
Title/Alias: Hawkman

Picture/Description:

(Not sure how I feel about this particular design, so this might change if something better comes up.)

Powers/Abilities: Thanagarian Physiology: Bird-like wings, superhuman strength and durability, as well as hawk-like vision. They are known across the galaxy as a war-like people, renowned for their skill on the battlefield.

Gear(optional): Theran wears battle armor and wields a spear, both made of Nth Metal, a special mineral native to his home planet of Thanagar. Like most Nth Metal equipment, they possess mystical properties allowing them to be effective against the likes of Green Lantern power rings or Kryptonian durability.

Personality: Theran considers himself a warrior above all else. His people are rather famous for their pride and stubbornness, and Theran is no exception. Villains and heroes alike should take care that they do not insult his pride or honor, lest they wish to pay the price by fighting him in a duel. As a member of a warrior race, Theran values strength over anything else, but will often point out that strength can take many forms: be it physical, mental, and even spiritual... though he does admit to having a bit of bias for physical strength for obvious reasons.

Bio: Born on the war-like world of Thanagar, Theran was trained from a young age to be a tough and uncompromising warrior, like many of his kind. When he reached adulthood, Theran joined the Thanagarian police force, hoping to use his strength and skill to bring down evil and villainy. Unfortunately for him, the police force he had also become infamous for its corruption, officers backstabbing one another for the sake of promotions and other forms of inner politics. It certainly wasn't the heroic environment Theran envisioned. Still, he tried to remain a good cop in spite of all that... but sometimes even the best of people can still fall victim to corruption. Theran had gained a bit of a reputation among his comrades for his spotless record, and some began to view him as a threat, believing that if he rose high enough he could destroy much of their corrupt organization. The other officers staged a political assassination and successfully framed Theran for it. Due to his prior service, he was spared outright execution, but Theran was given the second-highest punishment: exile. Theran was banished from Thanagar and told he would be put to death should he ever return.

Theran wandered the galaxy for a time... drifting from planet to planet and occasionally dishing out intergalactic vigilante justice wherever he could. The more he wandered, the more Theran learned of another pair of his people who had also left home: Katar Hol and Sheyara Hol. Following rumors and stories, Theran learned they had found their way to a remote planet called Earth and decided to follow in their footsteps. They sounded like good people, the kind he would gladly call his friends. The closer to Earth he got, the more stories Theran heard, soon learning of a group called the Justice League of which Katar and Sheyara were apparently a part of. However, by the time Theran finally reached Earth, the Justice League vanished, including Katar and Sheyara. Disappointed, but not discouraged, Theran decided to stick around on Earth on the off-chance that the JLA would return. Just as before, Theran used his skills and training to fight villainy wherever he found it. Strangely, the people of Earth almost immediately called him a strange name, but one he supposed was fitting due to his appearance: Hawkman. Of course, Theran had no knowledge of that name's significance, nor that it once belonged to the very Thanagarians he wished to meet.

[User]
In the very distant future Earth was invaded by aliens, none the planet has ever seen before. The Guardians of the Green Lantern Corp did not even know who they were and they claimed to know it all. The aliens systematically bombed every major power, be it government, hero, or villain. Within twenty-four hours they had conquered the planet.

Decades have passed George a member of a resistance, he was eventually captured and like all slaves who who resisted they had their brains harvested to act as a computer for the alien's combat android army. George created a virus that saved his mind from being reprogrammed, it saved others after him. Once they were able to gain control of their combat android bodies they destroyed the plant that created them.

They tried to join another resistance movement but they were attacked even after they were able to prove they weren't like the other combat androids. George and his friends set out on their own. They eventually found an abandoned human facility that was partially destroyed. They took it over got it up and running for the most part. Fixed up other parts.

They eventually found a time travel device, a sphere. George volunteered to travel to the past but he couldn't control when and possibly where he would land. So he loaded up for war just in case. What he did know of Earth's history was it was always violent and unfriendly.

The transition from the present to the past was incredibly rough. He was bounced all over the sphere he was in. If he was human it would have killed him. During the trip he hd two thoughts "Why the hell didn't they put a seat with a seat belt in this death trap?" And "Time travel sure takes a frelling long time. Is that ironic?"

George wasn't doing this to save humanity, he considered humanity little more than a cockroach that refuses to die. He was doing this for his sister, she was turned into combat android like him but he couldn't save her like he did himself. To save her he had to save humanity as a whole, a thought that would make him hurl if he still had one.

Just as he was about to start playing a card game in his head to make the time pass faster he came to extremely rough landing. The time sphere when it landed crashed through a sky scraper and it landed on a bus destroying it and all inside.

George was knocked unconscious. When he came to he could hear the sounds of something or someone cutting through the sphere. He stood beside the cutting area and held one of his Oni handguns. As soon as whoever/whatever stepped through he was going to have to take whatever stepped through hostage.

[Assistant]
s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3a/7..

Dr. Malacoda Zatanna
The Gotham Opera House

The hour mark had been met, and the gilded insides of the famed Gotham opera house filled with the soft respite from the previous chaos - and Malacoda could not resist the soft smile that graced his face. While his eyes remained closed, his fingers patted softly on his lap as he followed the ministrations of the Gotham Philharmonic. He was lost in the music - utterly sublime as these masters of the art spun forth gold through nothing but string, and brass and friction. This was Liszt though… and this was the Faust Symphony - and before such a thing as redemption could be humored - dissonance resurfaced! There it was. The build! Not even two minutes before - BAM! Crescendo!

It took him a moment to realize that there had actually been a blast - and his eyes slowly opened - his ears twitching at the now uncoordinated shrill screams of people attempting to flee the area - and the nazaly chatter of a green clad fellow on the stage - clearly seen from his private box set to the upper left of it. "What flies without wings? Answer: Time - Which all of you will have very little of should you not sit down right now - and move the goods to the sides - Jewels, money - the works!" He paraded about the stage, swinging his cane around - unawares of the dark brown eyes following his movements.

Malacoda sighed and started to take off his watch - he was sure they would come collect it soon enough anyway - when he noticed the primary violinist rush forwards, in a valorous act of bravery and stupidity - trying to tackle and restrain The Riddler - which, despite the boy being curiously muscular - failed miserably - as the green clad man moved faster than anticipated and amputated his wannabe attacker's hand. The young violinist fell to the ground, whimpering - while The Riddler picked up the discarded appendage -"THEY (Pointing to the audience) have been giving you a hand for most of the evening - Perhaps you should now return the favor!" - and with that he threw the hand into the audience - which got a few screams out of them before they quieted down once more.

Malacoda looked at the boy, his face red - clearly crying while his eyes were locked onto where now was a bleeding stump at the end of his arm. He knew he was not a very passionate person, but he could feel his heartbreak at the sheer waste - at the loss of potential. He was so good… if only he had not been so stupid as to try anything that reckless… He did not seem to notice his teeth crunching together and his knuckles turning white as he gripped his velvet covered seat. Where was the Batma… Oh wait. They were gone. Dammit.

"SIT DOWN! - We'll get to you in a moment." Malacoda returned to himself, and found that the Riddler was looking at him - along with everyone else in the theatre - where he had stood up without his awareness. He took a deep breath, and his hands flew up - gesturing out over the entire theatre - before he spoke in a clear, deep voice. "TEL EHT SLEWEJ OUY OS ERISED, NIARTSER UOY EKIL ROUY DEERG" - a bit dramatic but easily enough done with some augmentation with his telekinesis. He watched as the diamond necklaces and bangles entangled the thugs, securing them in place, before picking up his umbrella - and floating down to where the riddler stood - seemingly unsure and unprepared for any sort of resistance. His panicked eyes flicked to the now quiet violinist on the floor - and made to reach for him - but his hands stopped in mid air as Malacoda landed a few feet away. "SA ROF OUY, DNATS EREHT DNA DUALPPA RIEHT TCA LLIT RUOY SDNAH DEELB!" Malacoda's face remained impassive as the riddler turned towards the still paralysed orchestra - and started applauding them, while his face was filled with rage.

When he was sure that the man was secured in place, he crouched down and gently took the still bleeding arm of the violinist. With his free hand he reached behind him, and the hand that lay by the feet of one of the audience members gently flew into his hand. Without turning around, he said loudly - "I hope one of you had called the GCPD by now." Frowning when he heard them fluttering about behind him, everyone trying to be the first. He turned his eyes to the man in front of him, whose eyes in turn were still red and wide. "I can't guarantee that it will be as good as it was before… but I beg you - please do not give up on your talent. You were exquisite… and you can remain so." The boy nodded shakily looking to where Malacoda had been pressing the hand against the stump - before he started whispering. After a few minutes the skin started to meld back together, before eventually the limb started moving slightly - and a crack was heard - coming from Malacoda's ring. The boy smiled and grabbed his arm back, flexing his hand - and when he looked up - to thank his saviour - he could only see an exhausted face for a moment, before it disappeared in a flash of light

Back at his home, Malacoda stumbled over to his bed. "Gods… three spells and I am thoroughly done - and one was a prepared ritual" - he looked to his ring, which now held a single cracked diamond - symbolizing three months worth of work, and a very delicate spell that could theoretically have saved anyone from the brink of death - wasted on a fucking severed palm! He groaned loudly - "I need to work on my stamina…" He said this as he fell into his bed, and was within moments out for the count. His last thought was - I need to find Zatanna.

[User]
Theran Kar ~ Hawkman
Metropolis ~ Little Bohemia

The city was peaceful enough for the moment, the only trouble Theran stepped in to stop was a runaway monorail earlier that morning. The Thanagarian was still not quite used to being called Hawkman, but the citizenry seemed hellbent on calling him that. In fact, Theran even tried to explain to the populace that he was not the man they thought he was. It was to no avail, the humans must have been desperate to have one of their fabled Justice League members miraculously return. Theran didn't care for the idea of stealing another man's name, but if calling himself Hawkman gave the Earthlings some manner of hope, then who was he to take that away?

The moment's peace was ended abruptly when a large sphere came crashing out of the sky, seemingly out of thin air. In it's downward fall the object nearly crashed into Theran, but the Thanagarian was fortunately quick enough to roll his momentum out of the way so as to avoid being flattened. He was quick to use his wings to correct himself again in midair, "What in the name of...?" Theran started to demand, but noticed the object's crash course and his eyes widened underneath his bird-like mask, "No!" he called, nosediving as fast as his wings would allow him. The object was barreling right for a bus full of people. Theran wanted to reach it first and get those people out of harm's way, but he simply wasn't fast enough.

The spherical object made it's explosive impact, practically obliterating the bus and Theran wasn't fast enough to stop it, "Hasn't the people of this world suffered enough?!" he shouted, practically giving a warcry as he made a b-line for the spherical object, "Who do you think you are?" he demanded, brandishing his Nth metal spear and already going to work on the sphere, trying to pry it apart or punch his spear through, "Dropping out of sky with no warning and killing the innocent bystanders who happen to be in your way, don't think you won't pay for this! Haaaah!" he kept bashing and thrusting, hoping the nth metal weapon would be enough to break open whatever this thing was. At last, the Thanagarian made an opening.

"Come on out you - robot?" Theran was momentarily confused. Inside the machine was... another machine. Well, the one inside had a vaguely human shape, but was clearly made of metal and electrical parts. It had to be some kind of robot, but it was nothing the winged alien had ever seen before. Of course, he also noticed the gun the mechanical thing brandished. Perhaps it was indeed looking for a fight? No matter, Theran thrust his spear forward anyway, hoping to skewer the thing before it could do anymore harm. The Thanagarian trusted that his nth metal breastplate would be enough to keep the gun from harming him.


[System]
Age: 22

Allegiance: Imperium

History:
For as long as she could remember, Lorelai had always wanted to be just like her idol and become a knight of the Imperium. She had been born to a modest family that had lived happily under the Imperium's rule for generations amidst the dreamy countryside. Whereas most girls played with dolls, Lorelai spent hers with local garrison polishing armor and helping prepare there meals after many years of pestering them to let her help. It was a certainty in her mind that she would be another soldier of the Imperium, protecting the peace and prosperity of others just like the Crimson Knight.
Lorelai had seen Asgard once in her child, on her families yearly visit to the capital for the festivities celebrating the Great Beast's demise. A crimson beacon that shone brighter than the fireworks bursting along the night's sky, the image of Asgard burning itself into her mind as the ideal she would strive for as a knight of the Imperium. An obsession was born, but for such a just cause who could call it wrong?
True to her word she joined the Imperial army, and while not one of the true knights like Yggdrasil or Asgard, she had earned a less-than-kind nickname that she took in stride, the Abyssal Knight. Among the rank and file she was known for demonstrating a willingness to go to extreme measures to maintain the peace regardless of being ordered to or not. Her moniker, once derisive, was uttered in respect following an incident whereupon a patrol she was accompanying had been assailed by a raging beast. The patrol had fled in the face of certain death, but Lorelai hadn't. Word spread of a monster that would certainly ravage the land, and it was thought that none could stand against it alone.
Lorelai stood against the beast. She laid it low and tamed the beast, christening it Durgan, and brought it into the service of the Imperium. Riding atop her new partner she was terrifying sight, bringing peace wherever she went by leaving dissidents in pieces. Just like her idol.

Personality:
Lorelai is a zealous devotee to the Imperium and it's perseverance. To the citizenry and the loyal she is warm and genial, but to the brigand and rebel she is a merciless terror. In the face of her idol she may as well be a blushing school girl, and will do anything in her power to meet her standards as Lorelai perceives them. She possesses an unshakeable will in the face of adversity, though is weak against the admonishment of her superiors.
Lorelai firmly believes that everything she does is for the good of the Imperium, and that what is good for the Imperium is good for all. Doubt never enters her mind on the righteous of their cause, and every day the Imperium can stand tall is another with which Lorelai is happy with her life.

Tome:
In it's sealed form Lorelai's tome is ebon in color with a scarlet inlay for decoration. Released, and it becomes an Imperial standard whose pole is as unbreakable as her iron will. The purpose of this flag is that it allows Lorelai to channel earth shattering bursts of concussive force, primarily through three mediums.
First, Lorelai channels the force through her body, usually done to increase the force behind her limbs or released outwards to repel something within arms reach. Second, an object Lorelai is in contact with is propelled under tremendous force, typically used to propel rocks, arrows, or whatever Lorelai can get her hands on and make them deadly projectiles. Third, the force is directed into and released via another party, such as releasing the force through the hind legs of a steed she is riding to propel them forward. This requires continuous physical contact and concentration to perform with harming the channeled party.

Other:
Lorelai is never seen far from her mount, Durgan. In combat, while her tome is her primary weapon she also carries a common place sword that is easily lost or broken, so Durgan carries of quiver of swords on his side for easy replacement.

[User]
Jessi

A ray of light from the morning sun slipped past the curtains and shone on the sleeping soldier's face, pulling him from his slumber. The days following their much anticipated leave from Exilia had blurred together to the point Jessi could hardly recall how he had ended up in the guest room of Eleonor. Pushing himself out of bed he pulled the curtains apart and let the light pour into the room. Opening the windows a smile came to him as he peered over the familiar tree covered landscape of Rivenwood accompanied by a refreshing cool breeze; something he had longed for since the hot days in that infernal desert.

Awake and alert he finally began to piece together the events that had lead him to such a luxury. Though days of travel and danger had exhausted the otherwise sharp boy, the much needed rest had refreshed his mind and unscrambled his memory. The escape from the colosseum, meeting the Imperator, he remembered everything with clarity now, though he was still in disbelief about it. Never in his life did he dream that he would accomplish so much this early in his career, but the badge of Lieutenant on his armor hanging in the corner was proof he had done just that.

Wait...Did he own a village now? This was the one thing he wasn't quite sure on but he could almost swear her grace had given him such. Hs train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his stomach crying for food, perhaps he would think better with some food in his system. Getting his clothes on and strapping his tome to his head, he exited the room and made his way to the dining hall.

It came no surprise to him that Fei was already there when he arrived. He learned quickly in Exilia that she often woke up earlier than him and was out the door before he could say a word. Though now that they were no longer in enemy territory nor in any sort of danger, Jessi wondered if she would have a more cheerful demeanor; or at least calm enough to actually have a full conversation with him. Figuring it was worth a shot, he took a seat next to the princess and greeted her

"Morning princess." He said with a friendly smile on. "I take it you had a good sleep? Especially considering the fact we got separate rooms this time." Before much more could be said, Asgard entered accompanied by her new bodyguard. Though he knew the true reasons she was assigned one, Jessi couldn't help but notice the fact that both members of the Guardian's family now had their own personal guard.

Addressing everyone in the room, the Crimson Knight spoke of her thanks about the rescue, and the terrible reason her capture had occurred in the first place. Though the beginning statements about their future made poor Jessi's face flush red enough to match Fei's hair, his embarrassment was quickly overpowered by pure shock at the revelation that Yggdrasil was behind what had happened.

While it explained why Tegonay, a knight of the Platinum Guardian, had tried to kill Asgard in the arena, so much more was put into question by it. Yggdrasil was like a hero among the people, to learn he was behind such a heinous act put a knot in Jessi's stomach. He could barely even touch the food in front of him despite his previous hunger. It didn't help that another thought occurred to him that nearly made him sick. Was Yggdrasil, head of the royal guard and personal protector of the Imperator, in league with the Librarians?

@BlueAjah@Lonewolf685

[Assistant]
Chen Chideta

Chen felt the power of the Green Relic course through him, green sparks danced along his body as the Spirit filled his body. Chen grasped the weapons that formed in his hands and stared down the leader of the group. He vaguely heard Ruxen say something about him being a Fae and them having a Legend Relic, but it didn't matter. A murderer was a murderer, no matter what species.

Then Mikoto had to jump in once more, offering to spare them for money. "No. There will be no deals. Blood is paid for with blood." Chen uttered simply as the forest weighed around them. He pointed the blade in his left hand at the one he assumed was their leader and glared at him intensely. "You may have 20 seconds to repent your sins. After which I will kill you. Pick a god and pray."

This had nothing to do with actual prayer of course. Chen was actually buying himself time to figure out how to use these new powers. Being gifted with an Ice tome was great, but it really didn't help you learn how to use what was basically the exact opposite magic. He tried to move around some vines on the ground discretely and frowned internally. He tried once more and was rewarded with success. There were now vines on the ground near the leaders legs. Now the real test was using those for combat.
@TheWindel

[User]
As the first rays of dawn's early light bathed the chateau nestled among the mountain's of Orello in an amber glow, dazzling refractions cast themselves off of freshly polished armor to paint a dizzying array of color across a Spartan guest room. The lone occupant set down an oiled rag and turned a critical eye to her armor of blackened steel, dissecting every facet with an intensity that would have left her old drill sergeant feeling inadequate in comparison. After inspecting her regalia from every angle she could conceive, the Abyssal Knight Lorelai let out a satisfied hum as she could find no fault with her work. Not a single blemish could be tolerated on the nigh hollowed ground she stood upon, the current residence of the embodiment of Imperial Justice herself, Lady Eleanor.

Resting atop a desk burdened by ordered stacks of paperwork and reports was a ruffled sheet of paper that had been well worn in only a short time. Lorelai approached the paper and took it in hand, her fingers still clenching it tightly as emotion overcome her. The transfer papers, signed and sealed by the Imperator, that put her in the service of Lady Eleanor as her personal guard under the pretext of serving as a hand maiden. It could have said she was to serve solely as Lady Eleanor's scullery maid and it wouldn't have smothered the fire burning inside her.

"It's time to begin the day proper." With the reverence of one handling a holy book she set the papers down and once more returned to the armor. Hand maiden or not, she knew no uniform beyond the one before her. It was the best, and last, suit she would ever wear.

---

The Abyssal Knight was near certain she had failed to breathe the entire way from Lady Eleanor's private chambers to the dining room where they would be partaking in breakfast with the Crimson Knight's daughter and the newly christened Lord who followed her. The true north of Lorelai's moral compass was walking right beside her, and it was all Lorelai could do to walk forward without stumbling over her own feet. Lorelai would have been infinitely more comfortable if her assistant had come with her on this assignment, but she had proved difficult to find on short notice and had to be left to fend for herself.

Lorelai's tension abated upon arriving at the dining hall and sharing the company of others, even if they were of substantially higher standing then herself. The food had been brought out before hand, Lorelai herself inspecting it for poison while perusing the kitchen's for enough lamb to sate her partner's hunger earlier in the morning. For now she was to dine among the company of heroes, a daunting prospect for any to endure, and this wasn't aided in the slightest by the bombshell revelation dropped onto their laps before anyone had even taken a single bite.

First, discussing the future engagements of Lady Fei and Lord Jessi was a rather embarrassing subject for an uninitiated stranger like Lorelai, and judging by their reactions it was a mutual feeling.

Now Lorelai had been given brief reports on what had occurred in Exilia, that Asgard had been abducted and hoisted off as the prize in a phony tournament orchestrated by the Fallen Princess Emilia. Beyond that details were rather spotty, and at the time of reading Lorelai was far too incensed at the very idea that someone could lay a hand on Lady Eleanor to rationally process any further trivialities.

Still, it had not been mentioned anywhere that Yggdrasil had any involvement in the crisis. The idea that such a betrayal could occur, and from one so trusted and seemingly devoted to the Imperium was alien and wholly incompatible with her mind set. What she could decipher was that a treacherous element had acted against the Imperium by targeting her idol, the arbiter of justice and morality in the Imperator's lands, and because of this treachery Lady Eleanor had been forced into the vile, unclean, barbarous hands of that pig sow known as Emilia Warov who would experience unending agony when Lorelai finally go-

The quiet groan of stressed metal derailed the maelstrom of unrelenting hate for the Fallen Princess and any who had a hand in her plans as she came to realize the utensils in her hands had managed to get themselves crushed into gnarled balls of silver. Lorelai's face went white as a sheet and hastily tried to hide the evidence of her faux pas by stuffing it inside her armor.

The only signs of her indiscretions now disposed of she rested her gauntlet clad hands neatly on her lap and turned to humbly address the head of the table. "Pardon me Lady Eleanor, but might I ask what your intentions will be while Lord Jessi and Lady Fei are otherwise indisposed of?"


[System]
Race: Kistune
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Personality: Yomiko is a quiet, bookish sort. She has read many types of novels and loves acting them out, and sometimes she can even act them out for real if she needs to pretend to be someone stronger, more refine, or even just play dumb. However she's really rather shy and easy to push around since she doesn't want any trouble. But if someone is in danger or needs her help she'll do everything she can to help, even if she has to face down some scary things or do things she regrets. If Yomiko makes a promise, she does everything she can to keep it.

History: Yomiko came from a family of scribes. Each one has written and copied over a thousand books before they even become adults, and Yomiko was no different. However unlike most of her family who wanted to just be scholars, Yomiko wanted adventure. She read stories of heroic people going out and having these great journeys defeating an ultimate evil or saving the world. Even from humble beginnings or crazy origins, she wanted to be like that. So she started to learn how, reading books and manuals about how to fight, how to survive, and everything else her family had on hand.

When Yomiko became of age she chose to leave her family to go on her our journey, instead of becoming a scribe. It wasn't easy; she ran into many challenges that her books never prepared her for and the things she learned didn't always work when actually applied. But she took ever experience as a learning experience and slowly got better over the years. She helped a lot of people, but also did a lot of bad things. She always tries to make up for it but she still feels the guilt of some of the things she's done int he past, the people who died because of her. One day as she was coming back home just to check on her family, she learned that her mother and father had fallen ill. A powerful magical curse was eating away at this life force and knowledge. Something trying to steal powerful and ancient information only her parents knew. There was a cure, however it was experimental not to mention expensive. Even if her family sold their lands and all the books they had it wouldn't be enough for the operation.

But in Yomiko's books there was one place known for it's riches. It was all rumors and fables, but she was certain that those lands existed: The ancient ruins of Norn. Though she knew almost nothing about it's history, there has been many stories of people who went into the ruins and came back rich and powerful. So Yomiko traveled to these lands in hopes of gaining that fortune so she can save her parents, and potentially whatever placed the curse upon them.

Items:
Crimson Kimono - A traditional red dress Yomiko had a friend make for her. Stylish and durable for travel, but otherwise isn't very good as armor. Yomiko's fighting style involves cutting down her foes quickly and avoiding attacks, thus she needs to remain fairly light on her feet, but also means she can't take many hits.

Steel Katana - An eastern sword that Yomiko has been trained to use since she was a little girl. It's blade is sharp enough to cut through stone, but in the hands of a novice the sword will chip and break easily. Yomiko thus needs to use a few precise strikes to defeat her enemies instead of just flailing her sword around and trying to overwhelm her foe.

Paper Talisman - A box full of paper with a few containers of ink and a brush. Yomiko uses it for her magic but she can also use it to write letters and legal documents.

Abilities:
Swordmaster - Among the most valuable and important documents Yomiko's family kept is a series of ancient scrolls detailing sword techniques and fighting styles. Yomiko, thanks to being family, was allowed to read and learn from these scrolls. She spent nearly ten years since she was a little girl training, and once she became and adult she used her adventure and experience to hone her skills. She knows that she isn't nearly as good as the masters who wrote the scrolls, but thanks to her education she knows a few techniques unknown to most.

Her strongest technique is known as the Mirror Slice, where Yomiko slashes her blade in such a profound fashion that her sword creates another slash, mirroring her current slash, to slice into enemies who didn't expect two cuts from one swing. It's a powerful technique that requires Yomiko's focus and concentration, and often damages or even destroys most swords she uses it with. Thus she seldom uses it expect in the most dire of circumstances.

Onmyodo - A Magical system her family practices mostly to make their work easier, Yomiko is quite adapt at it too. She knows how to understand any language written down as long as she can copy the text onto paper. She can even learn about the magical properties of objects if she wraps the object in paper and uses a ritual to divine it's power.

[User]
When the chief charged Joseph went on the defensive. He could tell this man was unlike the others; they fell for simple feints and lacked a true warrior spirit. This one however... There was some bite to him. Joseph stayed on the defensive and hide behind his shield, even as the man tried to splash poison into his face. A few drops did manage to hang onto the gap of his visor but not hit Joseph himself: he remained steadfast and didn't waver nor flinch. It'd take more than dirty tricks like that to stop this holy knight. Still, Joseph knew that he couldn't remain on the defensive for long, and this chief was certainly faster than him. He could get three maybe for slashes in by the time Joseph got one, so he needed to make his next strike count. If it wasn't a deathblow, than it could spell doom for Joseph.

If there was one weakness about constantly being on the offensive, it was becoming predictable. The bandit chief was fast, yes, but soon he'd start to build a rhythm with his strikes. Even as he was looking for ways around Joseph's shield he only needed a second of carelessness to catch him off-guard. In a flash, Joseph parried one of the chief's attack, knocking his sword away in such a way that he could not instantly follow up with another strike. This gave Joseph all the time he needed the heft his zweihander from his shoulder, high into the air, and then down onto the back of the man's neck. Like a guillotine, Joseph's blow would be swift, heavy, and instantaneously lethal.

[Assistant]
By Murkul's shriveled black balls! The elven sorceress nearly spluttered, one eye blinking from having blood in it. She was splattered in blood again. This was why she hated violence and why she had others do it for her. Well, that and the resultant danger of being skewered while inflicting violence.

Then the hedge knight began speaking and making an offer. She had to admit, she completely had to reevaluate the man after he opened his mouth. He'd come to collect items from corpses? Honorable knights didn't speak thusly. No, they'd make up an excuse for looting the long dead inhabitants of their valuables, justifying their depredations on some fool quest or something else about the "greater good".

Finally, he threatened to give her over to the ogre sized goblin.

"I can do more than you could imagine," and began to rise, noting that the knight didn't bother offering her a hand up, "Now, look away from me and be ready to strike him down. You will know when."

While rising she had considered a few spells but simple was always best and weaker spells, given that magic was being leeched away somehow felt safer than attempting one of her more powerful spells. So, instead she began to dance. Her slender pale limbs began to catch at the air, spinning in gentle circles, moving to a song that she was humming softly. Her hips began to sway, twisting and writhing as a serpent's might and then, finally, her bare feet shifted back and forth on the roof of her vardo wagon. Her bracelets and anklets began to chime along to the rhythm, giving voice to the music she was so barely humming. She moved with the grace of a leaf caught in the wind and her golden hair caught the light of the moon struggling to reach through the trees and glistened. Beneath the stone goliath's severed hand, holding it's castle slaying sword she danced, moving like the shadow before a flickering flame.

That's when the magic began. It was a simple spell, channeled through her dance, one of blatant mesmerism. As the massive goblin stared at her, gaping in dumbfounded rapture, she continued to dance, captivating him completely.

[User]
Roy was desperate. The smell of blood would easily attract more monsters to deal with and Roy was in no shape to fight another beast. It seemed like he had wandered aimlessly for hours before he saw a stable not too far from his position. Normally, Roy would have outright refused to seek refuge in such a filthy and dilapidated building such as the stable; this the farthest thing from a normal occasion. The curse was taking a toll on his senses and would soon plague him with hallucinations. Roy then decided to make his way to the stable where, hopefully, he would be able to wait out the effects. He slowly trudges along the cold and lonely path to the stable before the hallucinations begin to stir. Before him stood the image of his mother and father. Looking at him with disappointment and regret.  "Roy, how could you have been so foolish? Did we not trained you to always be on your guard when you face your opponents? How could we have raised such a disappointment?" Roy winces and walks through the illusion, causing the images to dissipate into nothing. It was then he saw his wife's image, sad and lamenting. "Roy...how could you leave me?" the image gently places her hands upon her midriff.  "How could you leave us? Going after fanciful tales and rumors rather than spending your last days with us. Do you even care how we feel?" The statement causes Roy to clench his hands with an almost crushing amount of force as he forces himself to ignore the illusion. He loved his family dearly, but he loved his wife more than anything in his life. Hearing this, even from an illusion, causes Roy to question if he really would find a cure here in Norn and if it was worth leaving them behind. That moment of weakness summoned hundreds of illusions, fallen comrades pleaded to why they had to die, his parents and siblings expressed disdain on Roy, and his wife pleaded to him to return home to Briston so at the very least they could bury him with a proper funeral.

Roy willed on to the stable, reassuring himself that these were mere illusions and nothing more. He was less than a horse's length to the stable when the hundreds of voices suddenly stopped. Before the entrance of the stable stood another Roy. Though it's skin was a deathly pale, revealing the blackened veins. It's eyes were nothing but pure milk white spheres, his mouth forced into a rictus grin that revealed yellowed teeth. The grotesque version of Roy let out a low, unnatural, and almost demonic voice bellowed out of the thing that looked like him and echoed as if it had another accompanying voice. "You're going to die in here..." Before it mockingly laughs at him. Roy has had enough of these illusions. He charges at his alternate self with his rapier, but hits nothing but air and causes him to stumble into the stable. As he lies on a small pile of stale hay, the illusions return and surround him. His vision fades as he passes out in the old dilapidated stable.

[Assistant] "Tch!" Yomiko had hoped this thing would die quietly, but of course it had one more thing to do before it fell. Yomiko had a hard time pulling her katana out of the heartwood and dodging at the same time, so she just had to let go and do some evasive maneuvers. She ran up the treant's body towards the flames just above his hands, and before she'd let herself get hit by the oil fire, she launched her body down to yank her katana out, hit the ground, and roll out of the way before the treant landed on her. She put as much distance between herself and the treant as she could before she watched it fall. Once everything seemed calm she took a deep breath and picked up the satchel. She'll want to investigate it further once she was somewhere safer, perhaps when she makes camp for the night or something. Cleaning the blade with a sheet of paper Yomiko sheathed her katana and kept moving.


[System]
* Age: 17
* Appearance: Just look at how plain she is!
* Personality:
A friendly girl with a habit of not really leaving much of an impression, despite her efforts at times. Although tending towards being quiet and keeping to herself, Hakuno is always willing to lend a hand to others. This has led to her being a bit of a doormat when she was younger, however, and has been trying to change that part of herself. It's extremely difficult however - who wouldn't want to help out a fellow student had definitely skipped homework for super important reasons?!

Hakuno's tendency to help in any capacity she can seems to stem from her lack of self-worth; as a mage, she falls far below the standards of her family, who were already middling to begin with. While she tries not to pay it too much mind, any setbacks to her progress can hit her pretty hard, and perhaps lead to over-zealousness. At least her time in Fusang seems to have awakened a passion for policing the streets.

* Abilities:
Element: Air - Like most of her family, Hakuno has an affinity for the Air element. Unlike most of her family, she isn't too well-versed in anything but the most basic of spells. Fortunately(-ish), her family's true specialisation hasn't escaped her grasp.
Invoked Censor - This ability is a masking spell, of sorts. It doesn't make her invisible, just so thoroughly unremarkable and forgettable that you subconsciously erase her face from memory immediately after seeing her. This effect only strengthens in larger crowds, though Hakuno lacks the skill and expertise to properly combat any spying tactics that could see through her spell. Stronger magi could also potentially see through the trickery in a short amount of time, as well.

* History:
As a magus, Hakuno was quite the disappointment when growing up. Her abilities were severely lacking in almost all areas, and progress was slow at best in regards to development. When she was fourteen, it was decided she'd be sent to Fusang for 'higher-quality tutelage'... Hakuno knew it was just a desperate bid to get some use out of her abilities as a magus. It was rather fortunate she had the aptitude to be a Master after all, and during her time in the city, has been able to find interests outside of fruitless training in magecraft, to the point she's become a volunteer enforcer. A duty she takes seriously enough to practice Justice Poses before a mirror in secrecy.

* Other: No weird memory disease shenanigans going on here. Maybe.

[User]
Mihama Nanako

Nanako took a deep breath.

Thankfully, in spite of Meltryllis escalating things like that, it seemed like the situation had been defused. Not that she blamed Meltryllis for being upset about those remarks about her disabilities... but she did blame the Alter Ego for starting the conflict in the first place. There had been no reason to go after that girl and her Servant, and no matter how Nanako felt about Meltryllis herself...

"... Those comments were completely uncalled for," she said with a frown, her free hand on her hip. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"But, Meltryllis-san, what you said was uncalled for too," she said, "You started it by going after her Master, who wasn't even doing anything. Even if you're strong, you can't just go around picking fights for no reason. That girl didn't deserve that. Her Servant's response was completely uncalled for, but so were the things you said about her Master."

She didn't want to be in conflict with Meltryllis if she could help it, but at the same time she couldn't just let that slide.

[Assistant]
Uehara Mitsuki
Taking a sip of his drink, Mitsuki simply listened to both the woman and her Servant as they seemed to attempt to deflect blame off of themselves. There really wasn't any way to try and tackle the issue at hand in the way he had intended if the other party involved didn't want to give any actual information, but...

Well, this was still probably something he could work with.

"People in this day and age definitely aren't as fit as you're assuming," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders as if to downplay the significance of what he had said before continuing. "But I don't think you should need to be forced outside to at least take a walk outside, at least. It doesn't have to be a run, but even that much should be a start... Right?"

Turning towards his own Servant as she added her own thoughts in, the young man nodded in agreement before his gaze panned over to where she was storing her game console. Given the topic at hand, there was one thought that easily came to mind.

"I'm pretty sure there are a few video games that help with that if you don't want to head outside," he quipped, turning back towards the others with a smile. "It might be fun playing together, don't you think?"

Not like he had ever played any of those types of games in the first place, of course, but there was no reason not to suggest something like that...

"But, well, I'm not sure if that projection of the situation quite applies here. I'm still fairly certain that Servants don't need to be out and about fighting for some lofty goal to make the most of their second lives, after all."

@Raineh Daze@KoL

Alter Ego — Meltryllis
The purple-haired Alter Ego watched in mild amusement as the Saber stormed off, moving to the bathroom where her Master had gone earlier to (probably) cry her troubles away. Honestly, someone with such a fragile ego wasn't as fun to toy with as most others were, but this was enough for her—especially as it seemed that very same Saber was unable to mount a proper counterargument towards her own words.

Before she could call for her own Master to finish paying up and leave the shop with her, though, Meltryllis instead found herself on the receiving end of a lecture on what she had said. What little entertainment she had derived from what had just transpired was replaced by mild annoyance, as it felt as if she was being treated like a child who had done something wrong in her eyes.

"Like I said earlier, none of what I had said to start with ever actually directly referred to that one's Master. I only ever talked about you, did I not? And it's not like I'm wrong, either; you haven't been able to move around much ever since getting yourself put into that cast, and from what I know about humans, you're going to run out of breath if she starts sending us out on errands again. What am I supposed to do if you almost slip up again like that time at the building? It's not like I can always make sure that you're not going to throw yourself blindly into danger or get caught up in something out of your control, right?"

After speaking her mind, though, the Alter Ego took a moment to compose herself before sighing.

"...Whatever. Are you going to keep complaining then, or can we buy that jacket and leave?"

Alleyway
Having successfully forced his way into the alley to escape the sudden headwind, the would-be kidnapper, with the young girl still tucked under his arm, took a brief moment to catch his breath. It was quite possible that someone had caught onto what he had done, but so long as the job was done, his client would still pay... Right?

Of course, all those thoughts went out the window once he felt the grasp of someone's hand on his shoulder. Any doubts that he had until then were promptly dispelled, and without a bit of hesitation, he opened a small vial that he had tucked away under his shirt and waved it under his captive's face. Once she began to stir and opened her eyes, though, he tossed the vial away and, fumbling to escape the grasp of whoever had caught onto him, held a small crystal in front of the young girl's eyes.

"Summon your Servant and get rid of the ones chasing us!" he half-shouted, aware that his ability to hide away had become useless. With a gaze that dulled over as soon as the crystal had caught her attention, the young child spoke in an uncannily robotic manner as she seemed to nod in understanding.

"By my Command Seal... Assassin... Get rid of them..."

As one of the Seals faded away, the Servant that Amelia was contracted to—with black hair and limbs that seemed to belong to a puppet more than they did a human—seemed to appear out of nowhere and lash out at the woman who had restrained the kidnapper. There was obvious discomfort on her face as she considered the situation, but even so...

"...I cannot disobey my Master's orders," she said, blades sliding out of her arms as she stood at the ready. "...Forgive me."

And with that, the Assassin moved forward, striking out at the woman's neck soon after.

@Raineh Daze@VitaVitaAR

[User]
Mihama Nanako

It was true, Meltryllis hadn't directed the comments directly at the other girl. But that still didn't mean they were right. Nanako opened her mouth again...

... And slowly shut it.

It had taken a moment for her to really take in what Meltryllis was saying. While the comments about that girl had been uncalled for, at the same time... it had never been about her, had it? It had been about Nanako herself. Meltryllis... Meltryllis had, in a roundabout and rather overly harsh way, been showing her concern for her Master. And now that had become so much more obvious through the Alter Ego's words. She'd already know that Meltryllis had been trying to protect her, before. She already knew her Servant actually did care about her, even if she didn't want to show it.

But she'd now basically admitted as much. Meltryllis's true colors had come shining through.

"... So that's how it is, huh?" Nanako commented, smiling slightly, "You're right, Meltryllis-san, let's get going. I need to make sure I get out and get some exercise after all, right?"

It didn't mean that Nanako wasn't going to say anything, if Meltryllis did happen to talk overly harshly about someone else even if it wasn't directly targeted at them. She didn't need to say it so loudly.

---

Saber - Benienma

The moment her Master said what was going on, Benienma was off like a shot. The sheer speed of her movement sent a gust of wind whipping across the small outdoor dining section around the restaurant, and it continued to follow her as she darted through confused crowds. Almost immediately she'd already arrived at the alley...

... In time to see the kidnapper force the little girl to summon her Servant to use as a weapon against Kaguya-hime.

Almost immediately, anger rose in the diminutive Saber's heart. Not only was he kidnapping a child, but he was using drugs for force her compliance, to force her to summon her Servant. Not only was he doing that, but he was forcing her Servant to attack the people attempting to rescue her...!

This would not stand.

As the Assassin raised one arm, a blade extending from it, to make a strike at the Caster, Benienma was already moving.

In a shower of sparks and the ringing sound of metal clashing against metal, the redheaded enma's blade had already been unsheathed, already whipped through the air, and already deflected the karakuri ninja's attack!

But her attention was fixed solidly on the kidnapper himself. At this point, the mystic code filtering perception was growing weaker from all the attention directed towards him.

"Kidnapping a child and forcing her Servant to aid your escape attempt... you are nothing more then the basest of sinners dechi!"

Immediately, Benienma had already moved to force a gap between the Assassin and herself, an opening through which she could strike at the kidnapper directly.

If she took his arms, he could no longer hold onto the child.

@Raineh Daze@RolePlayerRoxas

[Assistant]
~Suzuka~

---

"Like, seriously?" Suzuka passed her a disinterested glance as she walked over to where Mana was standing by the sinks. "That bitch was totes doing that on purpose. Ugh, can you believe her? That hoe better check the mirror next time." The fox glanced once more towards Mana, seeing her still not looking towards her, muttering something about being proud of her master? Well, that was just annoying.

"Mana, that's total crap." On some level, Melt and Mana were both right. She had a hard time understanding Mana, but calling her not someone to be proud of? "Well, maybe like, You're right. I don't really like, get you a lot. Why you wanna hide that thiccness of yours. Why you don't respect yourself or how you wanna spend all day inside doing mega cringe stuff. But, like jeez, girl, you summoned a totally cute top tier JK servant. That's something to be proud of."

Suzuka cozied up to Mana, pressing her shoulder against the other girls, and flashing her a bright grin.

"So get that dumb look off your face, it's kinda pissin me off a bit. We gotta date to finish anyways!" She grabbed Mana by the hand again, and regardless of whether or not she was ready, she started dragging the girl out of the shop and back to their apartment.

[User]
With the Servants rushing off to confront the kidnapper, Hakuno followed behind them, reaching for her radio. She couldn't do much to help directly, but HQ certainly needed to know this was happening. She had every reason to believe Benienma and Kaguya could resolve the situation themselves, but the fact that someone was trying to kidnap the girl at all was alarming. She was contracted to a Servant as well, right? So where were they?

"Kishinami here!" Hakuno barked as she ran to catch up the Servants, hearing the sounds of battle from the alley, "unknown assailant attempting to kidnap Tsugihara Amelia! Saber is currently engaging!"

Reaching the alleyway after noting the location, she came to a sudden stop and peered around the corner. Recklessly rushing into a Servant battlefield was asking for trouble, even if the opponent wasn't- oh.
It was a struggle to process exactly what was happening, but it looked like there was a third Servant, opposing Saber and Caster. Curling her right hand into a fist, Hakuno cautiously watched for any suspicious movement. Her support magic was paltry, but there was always Command Seals in the most extreme case. As long as that Servant could be repelled, saving Amelia was inevitable...

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

Berserker - "Guan Yu"

Lady Guan didn't seem able to comprehend the idea that her elevated physical abilities meant her 'unimpressive' feats were most definitely out of the norm, especially to inactive girls. Still, if this guy and his Servant were so insistent that ten miles was somehow too much...

"Wait, video games? Those can help?" Guan asked, looking at them with intrigue and wonder. As far as she knew, video games were simply a form of entertainment - nothing she was opposed to, but not exactly conducive to an active lifestyle. Had she been wrong this whole time?! They could have been playing these games together and fostering a deeper bond and stronger bodies?! "I-I implore you, please tell me more!"