[System]
Age: 24

Appearance: Nina is a thin figure, standing at 5'7 with very little muscle or meat on her bones. She almost looks frail, though this is nowhere near the case.

Masked appearance: When the mask is put on Nina's appearance drastically changes. Her hair becomes a mess of platinum blonde curls, reaching her ribs instead of her shoulders. The pale blue of her eyes become a vibrant red, peeking out behind the monochrome mask. Her usually tan skin pales to an almost ivory tone.

Nina, while wearing the mask, usually wears black leather pants, silver tank-top, a leather jacket, and a pair of black combat boots. She often looks like she belongs in a black and white movie. She doesn't always wear this; her usual outfit consists of clothes in monochrome hues.

Mask
Mask abilities:The mask itself has the ability to drive its wearer insane, or influence their darker side.

The wearer though, if they can handle wearing it, becomes stronger, faster, and versed in ancient military tactics. Its true ability though is the ability to create weapons from shadows and to see the possible outcomes of encounters.

Gender: Female

Personality: Without the mask no one would ever believe Nina could hurt anyone. She's a very timid, sweet, girl who- before she owned the mask- disliked seeing anyone in pain and would become nauseous when she saw blood. The only thing both sides, with and without the mask, agree on is their love for music and art.

Masked Personality: Once the mask is on Nina's face everything changes. Her sweet nature turns dark and sour, becoming a crazed sadist with a split personality disorder. One moment she is a tough, violent, bloodthirsty individual and then the next she is a bubbly, mad hatter-like nut-job. She does know when not to attack people though, and usually only kills those who she deems unfit for this world.

Biography: Nina was raised by her mother for most of her life, her father having died when she was young. In truth she was there when he died, having been sitting in the seat next to him during the tragic car accident.

When she was 19 Nina was studying abroad, a history major, and one day when she was in the city of Berlin she came across an old antique store. She went into the store and after scouring the many items she stumbled across the mask. It intruiged her, pulled her in, and against the clerks constant warnings and what she believed to be rumors, she bought it. Nina studied it, wanting to know the item's history, and when she came across the stories of the previous owners she became curious. She put it on, laughing at the childishness, but when she finally removed it she knew it was true.

Bit about the mask: The mask is made of thick, ancient, polished steel; originally forged from the melted remains of a sword. Unknown to the woman who asked for it to be crafted the sword originally belonged to a madman, one who used the blade to murder hundreds… though most were on the battle field. The mask, once completed, was only worn once by its original owner. She wore it to a gala but went insane shortly after, screaming and haunted by visions of those the sword had killed.

The mask continued to pass from owner to owner, driving the weak completely mad and pushing some to the violence it once dwelled in. Most of its owners died young, or rotted away in some sort of cell.

[User]
Another day, another unsolved mystery about the origins of the masks and the importance of the location in some random field in Nevada that was turned into what was now known as the facility at least twenty-something years ago which was found empty by Pendleton Howl and reconstructed to be a personal workplace, but later turned into a meeting place for others with masks that also had unknown origins, and no dollar.

Pendleton had been working hard for the past week. As always, he kept his mask on a small stand in his lab, just a few feet away from his main desk where he kept all of his notes and records. Like the rest of the facility, his lab was futuristic in a sense, plain, simple, but had so much more room to expand. He had been fortunate enough to not have the feds hound him for his mask and findings, and the reason the Facility was as high tech as it was, was because of the government, who had given him the money and the privacy that he needed to continue his studies on the masks, so as long as he would report in with anything new regularly.

sleeping peacefully, he was woken by a rather loud guitar riff that came from his radio, causing the man to jump out of his chair and hit the ground. He always loved having ambient noise playing while he worked, helped others with their mask abilities, or pretty much anything. He didn't remember having it playing so loudly, but apparently, he did, as only a select few amount of people had 24/7 access to his personal lab. With a groan, he got up from the floor and dusted himself off. Even though he was going to head back to his room, which was separate from his lab, he should still be clean in the event that others would be awake as well.

Penn returned to his room and got prepared for the day. It took a bit longer than he would have liked due to drowsiness, but it was still relatively early in the day. He left his room and wandered the halls, meandering over to the kitchens to make something to eat.

Unlike an academy or school, nobody was employed to make food. You cooked for yourself, or anyone else you wanted to, and nobody was in charge of it. The kitchen was quite large, and had something for everyone at every time.

As he walked through the halls, he passed by several halls for the living quarters, and a few for training and relaxing. He knew he could have used his mask to easily get to the kitchen, but he had begun to use the mask less and less. He knew that the effects of the mask were transfering over to him more and more after each use, but what he was worried about was the mentality of the Reaper that he became. He could already use some of the reaper powers on his own, but to a useless extent, so he just decided to walk around the facility instead.

As he reached the kitchen, the doors opened for him as they usually did, and he prepared himself a simple breakfast to get himself going until lunch. He wasn't overly hungry, but he knew that he could eat a fair deal if he wanted to. Once he was done cooking, he put everything he used away and walked to the gathering room, a multipurpose room of sorts that was usually used for socializing when a meeting wasn't going on. There were several tables and seats to take in the gathering room, organized to outline a large circle in the middle of the room. While normally it was just an empty space, it could rise to become a platform for different uses.

Penn took a seat by himself like he usually did near one of the doors that led to other areas of the Facility, and ate his breakfast quietly as he watched the people who were already awake.

[Assistant] The desert wind whipped sand around the lone figure, but at least all the sand in the air kept the sun away, as it would have devistated him in his black and gray attire. Bartholemhew strolled through the desert as if it was a shaded promenade, walking cane in hand and backpack slung on, though he was half supernatural the desert would still kill him without water and food. He had set out two weeks ago on foot, following a gut intuition that he was meant to go where he was going, often he chatted with Bart as he took the back seat in their shared brain, talking about the 1800s and things like the first time he saw an automobile. However a few days ago the pair that inhabited the same body fell quiet as they settled into the journey, keeping good pace to arrive at where ever the hell they were going. Soon the wind died down and the sun was blazing through the dying dust, Bartholemhew took has jacket off and slung it over his shoulder, rather having one less layer then an extra one, underneath he was wearing his suit-vest and gray shirt with a black tie. A cabin-shack of sorts appeared in the distance, Bartholemhew went towards it welcoming the respite it would offer from the sun.

[User] After traveling to back to the good ol' US of A Dite turned her attention to that nagging feeling in the back of her mind. She felt drawn to a location she knew she's never been. She bought a map of the country, she spread it out on a table in the penthouse suite she was staying in. She closed her eyes and let the feeling lead her hands. She waved her hands above the map, she started on the coasts and moved her way inward. Once she found the approximate location she bought a state map of the area to further narrow it down. She repeated the process and found the location was in the middle of a dessert. "No way in Tartarus am I walking. Good thing I took up skydiving for that one music video." She had her assistant file a flight plan so she could take her private jet to take her close and once up in the air she had her assistant schedule a skydiving trip for the both of them.

[Assistant] The relative silence of the desert scenery was torn aside by the noise of an ATV making its way through the sand. Its tires digging up a fountain of dry rain for everyone who happened to be unfortunate enough to stand behind the vehicle - though at this speed that was somewhat unlikely. The machine plowed through the landscape at an impressive speed, hardly having any difficulties with dunes or the likes, and though maintaining a straight direction was everything but easy, the driver seemingly had the time of her life. The young woman wearing a gas mask had no drivers license, nor any experience at driving anything whatsoever, but somehow she found piloting the stolen ATV quite intuitive. Suspiciously intuitive. She had no doubt this had to do with the mask as well, but it mattered not when a 'Woooo!' barely overpowered the noisy motor, muffled by the gas mask. She had no idea where this was going, or what to do when the howling monstrosity she had tamed ran out of fuel. The moment was simply to enjoyable to care!

[User]
Blue eyes blinked up at the strange ceiling, their owner having just recently awoken. Nina's tired mind didn't recognize her surroundings, though a part of her deep down inside knew exactly where she was. A huff of air escaped her lips, the brunette turning over in the unfamiliar bed only to come face to face, metaphorically, with the most likely suspect for her new surroundings. Sitting on the pillow beside her, the item turned over, was the mask. It must have come off in her sleep… The woman sat up slowly before picking up the mask, her fingers noting the chill that overwhelmed her as she did so.

"What did you get me into now?" she questions aloud. Nina hoped the mask would remind her, as it had done thousands of times before in what could be a similar situation. Icy fingers seemed to curl around her brain, awakening thoughts and memories that the mask had suppressed. Then, leaving the young woman as quickly as it had come, the mask released her.

Oh, right. Nina had recently felt the need to find something, at least the side of her attached to the mask had. For the past month the woman had not once removed the item, it wouldn't let her. She had searched, coming up with nothing to show for this 'quest'… until last night. Nina had finally found it, a small shack in the middle of nowhere. Deep under the run down building though was a facility full of people, people who all had masks of their own.

The woman sighed, standing quickly and walking over to her measly bag of supplies. Drawing out a fresh set of clothes and her hygienic necessities Nina readied herself for the day. Maybe afterwards she'd go explore this new place…


[System]
Aleksander Slavik - Lurking Shadow
Evfimiia Serdiatnitskiia - GreenGoat
Illia Anastasia - Hammerman
Kaede Kobayashi - astralGemini
Kriv 'Jackal' Westari - dragonmancer
Lizaveta Koshkov - Rune_Alchemist
Mable - Piercing Light
Rafael - Kazemitsu
Septim - Zombehs
Sieve - HokumPocus

Linebacker Armadillo: A large omnivorous mammal, the Linebacker highly resembles an armadillo. They can grow to as large as seven feet tall, and weigh around 700 pounds/317 kilograms. With hard plates covering their body made of dermal bone they are incredibly durable, enough to completely negate weaker attacks anywhere but their lower stomach, which is softer than the rest of their body. They stand on two legs,
though if need be they can crawl. Their arms are powerful, easily able to lift a car. On each of their hands are four claws which are capible of slicing through prey like a hot knife through butter. If they feel their life is in danger they can curl up into a ball and roll away.
While this covers their weakpoint, they are unable to see while curled up. The Linebacker isn't a very intelligent animal, and is easily provoked or tricked.

[User]
Sieve stood proudly with his hands on his hipbones and gazed at the dead warrior rabbit. The magician's pride vanished like smoke from the creature's mouths as soon as he remembered that he wasn't wearing boots, leaving white bone exposed for all to see. He began gliding like a cat doused in water back to where he had primly set them down.

LewdlewdlewdlewdlewdlewdlewdLewdLEWDLEWDLEWD!!!

His body released the pent up air within his ribcage, sounding less like a sigh of relief and more like a blender with a brick inside of it. The mer-woman explained that their reward allowed the impromptu party to store things to a ridiculous degree. Sieve wondered what would happen if he were to place one of his bones inside of it, but snapped back to a chipper and formal tone as soon as his party members began to discuss the consumption of their opponents. The skeleton neatly held his wand horizontally with both hands and began to rattle. "Excuse me, but as a member of the Necro-organic Sanitization Squadron I advise that any and all bodies found be burned immediately to suppress the spread of plague!"

His body language remained stiff throughout his first team interaction. I'm not as strange as some of the other folk here, but it'd be wise to be hidden for a bit more, lest I be immolated.

[Assistant]
~Lizaveta Koshkov~

Year:
2334
Location:
Outer Rim, Planetoid Chadus F88
Factory - *static*

"Ah fuck, the hell am I even keeping this log for now?" She sighed, yawning as she stuffed the recorder back into her uniform, resting her rifle on her shoulder. Not like she was going to be using it again, eh? She was gonna be stuck here and have little hope for rescue by the Empire. Airlocks sealed, life support literally blew to hell, no spacesuits, shuttles, coms were busted beyond repair and no one but the rare pirates traveled out this far. Typical, really. Should have been expected being sent this far out. Probably were waiting for her to croak, really so they could salvage the tech from her body and give it to their next pet project.

Jackals, the lot of them.

Not that she could really blame them. She was already living on borrowed time - clones didn't exactly have long life expectancy and she already lived two years longer than they thought. Of course they'd finally get tired of her doing what she did best - just serve like a good little soldier 'for the glory of the empire' Propaganda, really. Really effective propaganda though. The danger with clones, is that sure, for the first few years of life they'll follow orders...but then they start thinkin' for themselves and then you well, have created a problem for yourself.

She wasn't a hero though, so she had really no intention to try and do that. She just did as she was told.

"Oi, you...still alive?" She walked over to one of the people that she had just killed. Was quite the fun little bloodbath, indeed. Ah, so tiring though. "Heh, guess I'm getting sloppy. Silly me~" She giggled, giving the man a saccharine smile before pulling out her pistol. "Sorry about this...I'd say for the 'glory of the empire' or whatever other bullshit, but I'll spare you the lies."

The pistol fired, burying a bullet into the mans skull. She stretched again, briefly checking the magazine in her pistol and rifle. Someone from the rebels might be foolish enough to come check on their mining facility, but she doubted it. Heh, maybe if she got rid of the uniform and guns she could pass for a lost child? Maybe would be fun, but the empire wouldn't let her live so easily.

"Ah, the Empire is so troublesome~" She sighed, shaking her head with a tired smile. "Sending little 'ol me out here to do all their dirty work and not even having the courtesy of sending me out with a bang. Just going to let me rot away slowly...tsk." Ah, man, after a workout like that she was tired. "They even made sure to dismantle that robot before sending me here..." She pulled up her holographic com unit, a simple message displaying on the screen.

"Help. Dismantling."

Hah, she almost felt like crying. That robot actually thought she could help. She wanted too - the big lug was just about the only thing or person that had any bit of consistency in her life.

"Welp, that's just the way the nuke explodes." She chuckled dryly, tossing the headset carelessly onto the ground, sitting against one of the cold metal walls of the mining facility. "Ah, so tired. The nanites must be getting slow and rusty, heh. Well, nothing like a nap after a good brawl to unwind..." She leaned against the wall, and eventually her breathing slowed as sleep overcame her.

---

"Hrm...nooo...my muffin~" She giggled in her sleep - she must have been quite the sight. A child wearing a military uniform covered in what appeared to be dry blood in a number of places. She was passed out on the ground, smiling contentedly while she slept, chewing lightly on the butt of her rifle. "Hands off...bolt face...can't eat anyways..." Whatever she was dreaming about, seemed pleasant at least. It wasn't until a gentle breeze brushed past did the child slowly open her eyes, and immediately notice something was completely wrong.

"GAH!" She stood up swiftly, wide eyed and looking more than a little trigger happy from the way she was clutching the gun as if her life depended on it. "Whodawhereisthis?...Grass? Why is there..." She spun, readying her abilities to try and combat any threat she might run into in this place. Was...was this a dream? Most of her dreams typically involved some super lewd...well, things you're never going to know about.

"Not a dream...afterlife? Hell looks particularly green this time of year..." With life support as weakened as it was, she was guaranteed to run out of oxygen in half an hour...but she still had her guns and combat knife. She doubted such tools would even be allowed in 'heaven' if it even existed. Still, it didn't seem like she was in any immediate danger. She lowered her gun, grumbling quietly to herself as she tried to make sense of this situation.

It was then, she became highly aware of a massive group of...things. People? Somewhere towards the east? Or was it west? gah, finding directions on new planets was difficult when you couldn't use the sun as a reliable guide, and the stars were useless to navigate by since, well, daytime. Well, if there were people, she might as well check it out. Who knows, maybe could be fun.

"Huh, well I dunno what in the name of the emperors soiled holy boxers is going on here," Just to make sure, she checked her ammo again and the spare magazines she had on her. "But lets see what's up, eh?~" She slung the rifle over her shoulder, and set off at a calm walk towards the mass of people that she somehow knew the location of - however she did that. Did she suddenly develop a new psionic ability? Wasn't unheard of for clones with extensive modification to later develop new mutations later, but that couldn't be it.

Eh, if only she didn't trash her com unit.

It didn't take her long to get to the mass of people, and what she saw was...disturbing to say the least! Those...those definitely weren't humans. They seemed to be gathered around some sort of cave of sorts?

"Hmm..." She observed the group, placing a hand to her chin and thinking for a few seconds. Finally seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, she nodded with a sigh. "Yep, I've finally lost it."

Alternatively, and much more logically, she might have accidentally got teleported to another galaxy somehow...which also meant no empire.

...huh.

"Well, heh, might as well see how far this rabbit hole goes. Maybe I'll met a cute alien, heh..."

[User]
Kriv 'Jackal' Westari

Runt of the Litter

---

---

The beast's meditation over his new situation was broken when several unknown creatures made their way inside. Having been in the shadows with eyes that were barely illuminated, Jackal didn't move a muscle. Everything about this situation was unfamiliar to him, the mark, these hairless mammals and other odd specimens, and the unnatural environment. Even the cave seemed artificial, how flat and square everything was. He didn't want to admit it, but the lizard-warrior was in some form of terror.

That fear drove curiosity, to study the situation before him and then decide on his next actions, a basic principle of reason. However, more perplexing was that these animals were...speaking. The sounds were unfamiliar to him yet he somehow understood these alien words to him as if he was raised by it. He however, avoided to dwell to much in thought of the language as he was more interested in the very fact that these beasts were speaking a language.

These strange creatures were not Gorgasi, yet they were sapient; They walked and talked in a matter that may even be more sophisticated intelligence then his own. Knowing this, Jackal no longer saw these strangers as prey or predators, still he kept hidden as a new strange monster appeared to challenge them in some strange sport; Likely the reason to the unnatural cave structure. So the beast watched, studied they're strange dialects, and waited.

When the beast was defeated, and the group had inspected some container in the back, the reptilian monster rose from his place of hiding. At first he crawled out of the darkness in a slow matter, moving more like a lizard with a side-to-side motion rather then that of a humanoid, his yellow eyes were beaming from his silhouette. Once he was out of the shadows the alien lifted his body upright to his full height.

There was a pause, as Jackal was unsure of what to make of these strangers exactly. Despite how some varied from others in race, they seemed to function as some kind of group or tribe, this detail gave him some reason to question.
"...Friend.. or foe." He finally spoke. Since he was still adapting to the new information of this alien tongue, Jackal's words were paused and stressed to some extent which exposed his unfamiliarity.

[Assistant]
As Mable was carrying the last of the deceased armadillos towards the box she heard the strange man that had been making even stranger noises speak up. "Plague?" She looked around, then back to him and blinked a few times. "The black plague? That was taken care of forever ago." She shoved the dead beast into the box, then looked back to Sieve. "Is that why you're dressed like that? Don't tell me you have spices stuffed in that beak too?" Mable let out a short chuckle before heading back towards the way they had come in, box in hand after the bleachers had been placed inside of it as well.

There stood what looked like a giant lizard man. She had seen him earlier now that she thought about it. The way he spoke made it seem as if he had only just now learned English. Now that she thought about it everyone here seemed to speak English, that was oddly convenient. "Have you been hiding? No need to be shy buddy!" Mable beamed at Jackal. "We're all in this together after all, try to help out next time." She said, walking past him.

The wall raised upwards once she approached it, thankfully they weren't locked inside anymore. As she made her way back to the outside she saw a young girl in the passage. She was one of the younger looking people she had seen so far. "Ah! Another adorable one has shown up." she said with excitement. "You just missed the action though, we're headed back outside now. I'm Mable by the way." She motioned for the girl to follow her and made her way back to the cave's entrance.

As expected she was met by a noisy crowd eager to hear good news. She sat the box down onto the ground and opened it up, then pulling out each of the dead armadillos. "Rejoice, your hunters have come back from the hunt with food!" She raised her hands triumphantly as the crowd reacted.

"What the hell is that?"

"Is that even edible?"

"That's not even enough for half of us."

"Yeah she's blue and all but I'd still hit it."

"How do we even cook that?"

"Oh stop being ungrateful!" Mable yelled. "And I swear I heard something way off topic!.. Oh well." Mable shrugged her shoulders and sat against the wall. Their first expedition had been fairly easy, but it wasn't even close enough to what they needed. Now that she thought about it, the bottomless box had been their bonus prize, what was their primary prize supposed to be?

As if on cue the wall began to rumble, Mable hopped to her feet and jumped away from it. It almost felt like an earthquake, but the movement was all clearly coming from inside the wall. About three hundred meters away from them a large hole opened in the wall. The hole was fifty meters up the side of the wall, and was in the shape of a rectangle as large as a king sized bed. A torrent of water came rushing from the hole, at the same time the ground below it changed. The grass sunk unto the ground, creating a ditch that grew until it was around seventy meters wide, it then extended in a straight line outwards until it vanished into the thickness of the fog. The torrent of water fell into the new ditch, quickly filling it up. Before long what looked like a river formed.

Up until now Mable was able to find some sort of excuse for the things she'd seen, however even coming from a planet as technologically advanced as she had this confounded her. She responded as eloquently as she possibly could.

"Buah, wha?"


[System]
Age: 11

Appearance:

Personality: Pure-blood to the very bone Lachlan has been raised to hate muggle borns and to make sure everyone else knows it. Lachlan himself however while born that way, and raised that way still has tolerance and will make friends with anyone. As a child Lachlan showed early the signs of a Slytherin. Cold cunning, calculations, ambition, and huge drive to succeed no matter what. The boy started practicing the wand movements and incantations of spells separately trying to get an edge in his classes and to make sure his family name was respected, despite being new to the country. He prefers knowledge as power and loves a good book more than anything else. Lachlan possesses great reflexes and promises to be a world class duelist at some point.

History: Lachlan was born in Sydney Australia to two of the most powerful wizards in that country. They were Dark Wizards but in Australia the Dark Wizard's weren't all that strict as they were in Britain, they were much more relaxed around Muggle born and accepted them as long as they showed magical skill. His parents were the head a organization they founded to help support Dark Magic around the world and as such they of course came into contact with Britain's prideful Dark Scholars. They convinced Lachlan's parents to move over and as they arrived became inserted into the political game of Pure-blood that was played by aristocratic families such as the Malfoy's and Black's. Lachlan was only 5 when the move occurred.

As he grew he was introduced to the pure-blood superiority doctrine by his parents who were becoming more and more pulled to such blood discrimination by the company they now kept. But Lachlan was strong-willed even at the age of 10 and found that he'd prefer to make such judgements on his own and not to allow his parent's or their friends to sway him in a certain direction. His father like may of the other pure-blooded wizards and witches strived to prepare his son for the best possible chance at Hogwarts leaving the poor boy with hardly any free time for himself making him learn wand movements using a wooden spoon, practicing his spell annunciation with a tutor, and even daily dueling lessons and exercise designed to hone his reflexes.

Lachlan for his part hated not being able to be a kid and longed for the rush of fresh hair on his face as he rode his broomstick around. It was very rare but his father did allow him to play with the other pure-blooded children and Lach was a natural on the broomstick the quick reflexes that his dueling lessons were honing showing when he played Chaser. He wanted nothing more (even if his dad didn't approve), more so actually than to play for his house team and was determined to get the position. When he turned 11 it was no surprise when he got his letter of acceptance and he joined the numerous other excited kids in Diagon Alley to get his supplies. He is very much ready to get to Hogwarts and start HIS chapter of life. Not his fathers, not his mothers, but his own.

Blood Status: Pure-blood

Wand: Cypress wood, 12 inches, Manticore Stinger core (heirloom wand), reasonably springy

Personal items and pets: Pet hawk named Shruikan, pet kitten named Castiel.

DUMBLEDORE

[User] "Through the wall like the others, Mitzara." Mitzy shifted as her father pointed to the wall which some children around her age had walked through. "I- I'm going to miss you father..." Her accent had a hint of Irish to it, though not as thick as her father's. He knelt down to his daughter's height, hugging her tightly. "You'll see me again, Mittens." Mittens... Mitzy hadn't heard that nickname in a long time. Tears welled in her deep blue eyes as her father released her. "Remember, you have Harold." They both giggled as Mitzy looked to her luggage, where her sloth slept soundly on top, his little hat nearly falling off his head. Mitzy gathered her luggage, lifting Harold over her shoulder, then walked through the wall. She waved her father goodbye as she sank through, the train coming into view. Sighing through both sadness and excitement, Mitzy boarded the train, settling herself and her things in an empty compartment, where she was alone with her sloth and her thoughts. "Well, Harold," she patted her pet on the back. "This'll be out longest adventure yet." She smiled as Harold squeaked happily in agreement.

[Assistant]
Karen stepped forwards, her pet cat Elijah wrapped in her arms and a butler carried her luggage at the side. She moved gracefully, each of her steps flowing well into the next, as though she were treating walking like a dance. Her face was calm and serene, looking for all the world as if nothing could disturb her; indeed, such an expression made her look more mature than her age otherwise let on. Her outfit consisted of a turquoise blue dress with sapphires lining the shoulder wide neckline, and white, satin gloves and leather boots - all of which were high-quality material.

Her graceful movement and expression, as well as her expensive clothing, caught the eyes of people around her, however they always averted their eyes the next second for some reason. Looking at her, one wouldn't think that today was her first day at Hogwarts.

Her thoughts however? That was a completely different story.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes! Hogwarts! Finally! Hahaha! Today I take my first true step to being a real witch! Wait, no, you're getting excited again Karen! Calm down . . . Alright calm . . . Heh heh, Hogwarts~"

Much as she tried to suppress it though, her excitement would always bubble over sometime again, thus creating a cycle. Nevertheless, on the outside, she was completely composed. As she stepped towards the barrier at platform 9
3/4
, she took a steady, deep breath, then walked through it.

She gasp softly at the magnificent sight of the magical side of Kings Cross Station; at the sight of all the different wizards and witches moving about, sending their kids of to Hogwarts. Karen bit her lip, once again suppressing her excitement from overwhelming her, while at the same time ignoring the pang of pain that shot through her suddenly. Seeing all these kids being sent off by their parents did nothing but remind of the absence of her own. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Karen walked towards the trains steps, and turned to her butler.

"Thank you, Alexei, for your troubles," she said, stretching out to grab her luggage from him.

The man simply bowed his head in response. "It's no problem, milady. I hope you have a good time at Hogwarts . . ."

Left unsaid was: "I'm sure your parents would have too," but both knew the futility in bringing her parents up, so he kept it in, and Karen did not question his silence.

Setting Elijah down, Karen looked around her, wondering what compartment she should take. Deciding that any would do, she walked three steps and opened the nearest one. Inside, there was already another person, one with a pet . . . sloth? That was new. In any case, Karen did a small curtsy and greeted the other girl.

"A pleasure to meet you. Would it be too much trouble if we could share compartments?" she asked, making eye-contact with the other girl.

[User]
Mitzy was deep in her thoughts, wondering if she would be able to keep up with the magic world, and worrying about her father being alone with that awful beast that he called wife. She calmed her thoughts, thinking that her father could never love anyone more than her mother... Oh, how she missed her mum-
"Huh?" Mitzy snapped from her thoughts, startled as a girl curtsied and asked if she could join her compartment.
"Oh! Of course!" She gestured to the seat across from her, smiling sweetly at the girl. "Forgive me for daydreaming, my mind is restless." That it was. Her smile was content, but she couldn't keep from worrying. With eyes shifting around the compartment, she opened her mouth to continue conversing. "Is this your first time going to Hogwarts?" Harold slowly latched onto Mitzy, climbing up her arm as she spoke. "It's my first time, and I'm both excited and nervous, how about you?" She used her free arm to adjust her sloth's hat, producing a cute little squeak from him. Mitzy was definitely going to take the advantage of making human friends while she was away.

[Assistant]
Wyatt Blackwood

---

There was a lot going on at the Kings Cross train station that it was hard for Wyatt to concentrate on where to go. He was already flustered with knowledge of a new world and everything seemed to overwhelm him. However, he did his best to compose himself and not act out of his usual character which was calm, cool, and collected. His Squib neighbor, George, was guiding him to the correct area for him to board the train to Hogwarts. Pushing his belongings in the trolley, his new cat Jinx meowed as was looking up to see the platform numbers. He looked over at his neighbor who seemed confident on where he was going. Before leaving to the train station, his parents saw him off at home because they had to get to work soon. There were tears and emotions everywhere, but were assured he would be seeing them for the holidays. With his parents always gone at work, he was used to be alone for long periods of time. Even though this was quite different, he was ready to make the commitment to be the wizard he's meant to be.

After strolling about, they finally arrived at the platforms 9 and 10. He looked everywhere for 9 and three quarters but it was nowhere in sight. He turned to his neighbor with a puzzled look on his face.

"You said platform 9 and three quarters. Does that even exist? All I see is 9 and 10," Wyatt said growing restless. His skepticism began to kick in again. Yes it was proven magic was real, but could he trust this man? Was he being genuine? Was he doing this for his own personal agenda? George smirked and pointed at the brick wall.

"Its right there my boy! Between platforms 9 and 10. You just go straight through the wall and you'll be at 9 and three quarters," he said enthusiastically. Wyatt just gave him another quizzical look and stared back at the wall. "Just take your trolley and run through the wall!"

"But-" The young boy couldn't even finish his sentence before he was pushed by his neighbor through the wall. He gasped for a few seconds before reemerging to a whole new train station. There was a huge train that read Hogwarts Express with numerous other students loading their things with their parents and getting on the train. After snapping out of his state of shock, he pushed his trolley to the porter guy so he could get his things on board. Grabbing his cat and a few books, Wyatt boarded the train and looked for an empty compartment to sit at. He passed by two compartments that had a set of two boys and two girls his age. He needed a quiet place to study his materials so he chose a compartment next to them.

After getting situation, he let Jinx out of her kennel. She meowed and went to play with the other pets running about through the aisles. Immediately after, he decided to crack open his Standard Book of Spells book and began reading. Any time he got any type of reading material for school, he was the first to read it and know it by heart. That was just the type of person he was and it helped he had a near photographic memory. Just before going to Kings Cross, he remembered his neighbor George said something to him about how there would be other kids that might not be too fond of him because he didn't come from a magical family. Wyatt thought that was totally absurd, but George told him that bloodlines meant a lot to some witches and wizards so he should be careful. This was another reason why he wanted to get the upper hand in all of his classes. Because he was "muggleborn" he felt he needed to be better than the average witch or wizard. He needed to prove something.

[User]
Callum was reading the Daily Prophet when the compartment door opened, something about a breakout in Azkaban where twenty prisoners escaped was on the front page. Cal guessed that his mother and father must be hearing a load of it at the Ministry, but he took his mind off his parents, and back to the rather familiar looking boy, and his - hawk. Hawk... Hawk... Where had he seen that hawk before. That's it! That boy from his parents dinner parties, Lachlan. He didn't know Lachlan much, but from the expression on his face during most of them, he seemed just like Cal, forced to go to the parties, and listen to immensely bad jokes told by his father, and pretend to like that dreaded Tiramisu his mother makes. Seriously, who likes the flavor of coffee, and now you ruin dessert with it! Well, maybe he didn't feel exactly the same about the Tiramisu, but, he was sure they shared the same thoughts on other things.

"No problem. Your Lachlan, right? The Everwood?" Cal was stupid not to look on the engraved lock on the hawk's cage with the Everwood crest, and once he saw it, he felt pretty stupid, but just waited for him to answer.

[Assistant]
Lachlan looked at him with a raised eyebrow and giggled. "Yes, -The- Everwood I suppose. And you're THE Robertson." He chuckled again and sat down across from Callum and stretched himself for a second. He barely had time to do anything else when his second cage started making mewing sounds and Lach reached down to unclasp the pet gate to let a gorgeous white kitten out. The kitten had black spots all over it and didn't waste any time in pouncing onto Lachlan's lap, looking at him daring him to say something. Well, so far so good. Managed to find a seat with someone he at least knew, got Zora out of her cage, and was now staring at the other boy awkwardly. Definitely the best first impression ever.

"Er, so Callum. Or do you prefer Cal? I personally prefer Lach since the lan just gets in the way after awhile." He smiled and realized how idiotic he was sounding and wanted to just punch himself into a ball and disappear. "Well, anyway. Are you excited to be heading to the school?" His smiled stayed in place and all Lach could do was hope that Callum didn't think he was a complete idiot and decide that perhaps it was best to find a new compartment. In his lap Zora realized Ghost was in the compartment as well and the kitten climbed down her human pet's leg ladder and stared at the wolf pup's eyes. She playfully padded his leg and tilted her head to the side.


[System]
Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Outreman, previously citizen of Angjusk

Occupation: Deputy head of department - Cradle Research & Development

Cybernetics:
* Cradle quick-access implant - Allows access to and from the Cradle environment without additional hardware. This advanced module also reduces fatigue caused by the process, allowing power users multiple entries in a single day.
* Tier 7c 'Cradle Builder' suite - Grants access to the programs created specifically for 'terraforming' the Cradle. Tier 7 out of 20 allows Freyr to auto-build a variety of specialised equipment and propose-build mid level structures.
* Ilyes Brand communication and productivity module - Standard implant for access to Outremer's communications network. Also integrates with many well known productivity tools like a personal assistant, as well as more bespoke scientific tools.

Backstory:
Freyr was born on Angjusk, an older colony than Outremer that was renowned for its military materiel, particularly star ships.

Her mother was an innovations tsar assigned by the government to a consortium of the planet's largest ship manufacturers. During most of Freyr's childhood, her mother's sole task was making sure Angjusk battle fleets were the best money could buy in the Diaspora.

Before she was born, her father owned and operated a series of protein farms across Angjusk. After a chance encounter at a lobby meeting, he was headhunted to co-ordinate the military industrial complex's entire food supply chain. He also met his future wife, as it was Freyr's mother who had recommended him for the job on that fateful day in the lobby.

Freyr was born five years later. Her early life was a whirlwind of schooling, snatches of intimacy with her parents (when they weren't busy) and extended periods with friends. She discovered a natural capacity for learning and excelled in her studies. So much so that she received offers from universities across the Diaspora to come and develop with them.

Her mother and father both pressured her to consider diplomas like Interplanetary Relations or Agrarian Policy. However Freyr was not interested in pursuing a career in politics. Angjusk has been involved in at least a dozen small conflicts since Freyr had been born. She had seen how politicians would destroy entire cultures for the sake of influence, and wanted none of it.

In her first act of defiance, Freyr accepted a position at a school in Babylon, the main city of a far away frontier colony called Outremer. Driven more by the desire to have time away from her planet than by the subjects on offer, she researched what Outremer was known for. It was here that she first discovered the object powering this section of the Diaspora - the Cradle.

She quickly became obsessed with its untapped potential and seemingly unknowable past. She decided to pursue Xenobiology and Machine Intelligence as her subjects of interest, voraciously consuming the knowledge gathered so far on the Cradle.

It was here at the university that she met her future partner, David, who was studying art history. Isolated from her family and friends, alone on a strange planet, Freyr was glad of his unassuming company and kindness. They grew very close over the course of their degrees, and moved in together after graduation. Their daughter Amy was born a few years later.

After Uni, Freyr was picked up by an Outremer administration outreach team and placed in a government career fast lane. Her obsession with the Cradle made her an obvious choice for the Cradle Research & Development department. Once there, she quickly proved herself capable. Several breakthroughs in her first five years meant she was allowed to hand select a team of dynamic young individuals to help pursue her work. A couple more catapulted her into a deputy head of department role, to the ire of some of it's older and more entrenched members.

It was on her 34th birthday that the Cradle abducted her family. It had been acting strangely for weeks prior, rolling back years of terraforming. Freyr had been working round the clock to figure out why, practically living at her field office by the Border. David had bought sweet treats and had Amy with her.

What can only be described as creatures emerged from beyond the Border and overran the camp. A panic spread through the mostly unarmed workers, leading many to flee for their lives. Freyr's last memory of her family was being propelled across the camp by one of the creatures. She could only watch from her position immobile on the floor as they carried off her husband and little girl.

Security forces conducted a sweep of the immediate area beyond the Border, but found no sign of them. So Freyr began looking by herself as soon as her broken bones were reconstructed. Months went by. Her work stopped and her mental health deteriorated. Eventually she was placed on sick leave and her access revoked, after she attempted to use her influence to organise an armed excursion deep into the uncontrolled zone.

[User]
"Admiral, recommend immediate abort. You're vulnerable in the channel." The most senior Outreman captain in the battle group sent over comms.

"Watch them run!" The Tindrel Admiral replied immediately - the rapid clicking of their species laughing could be heard.

"Press the attack!" The ramming ship had looped around now and was building up unstoppable momentum for a pass through the freight channel. In preparation for a mini-jump at short range, they weren't charging up their secondary weapons to fire at full power during that moment of chaos when they made contact.

---

Masgard laughed. "Not quite bi-planes, but you already knew that. They are advanced in their own ways. Very different to us, in tune with nature. They have a symbiotic relationship with large worms that act as transport, food and fighting forces."

"Human, Tindrel & QV signals on the planet." Dr Wetherall announced.

[Assistant]
For the Tindrel's planetoid, the ships that had moved into the freight channel had little chance for escape. In open space, the enemy might have been able to scatter more efficiently, but the asteroids surrounding them would restrict how fast they could maneuver, especially as a group. They had executed their plan as well as they could, and no doubt, the planetoid would be able to clear a fair sized group in a single pass. However, they had no way of stopping the rest of the enemy fleet from repositioning, and no way to regroup with the rest of their own fleet quickly. The asteroid field would restrict the planetoid even more than it would for the enemy vessels.

Had the enemy used their FTL jump to close in on the planetoid, the rest of the fleet might have been able to maneuver in to the field to reinforce their flagship. That, however, was not their intention. The planetoid was currently in the middle of the asteroid field with the freight channel as the only method of egress. It was, for the moment, a prison for it that it could not quickly escape. As such, nearly the entire remainder of the enemy fleet jumped to FTL, wrapped around the outside of the asteroid field, and appeared suddenly together...right on top of the bulk of the Outreman ships. They dropped out of FTL at extreme close range to most of the Outreman and Qalian-Vosh ships, sending the battlefield into immediate chaos. They seemed to abandon any notion of organized formations and instead positioned themselves in and among the allied fleet, firing on everything around them. It went without saying that this was a strategy that entailed full and complete commitment. There would be no escape for either side if they failed, but it was a sort of chaos that could be to their enemy's advantage. Even should the planetoid manage to maneuver back around to rejoin the fight in time, it could not use its primary strategy so far without barreling through its own allies.

---

Vreta looked up to the hologram of the planet, his eyes narrowing noticeably. "Interference with pre-spaceflight species runs rather specifically afoul of our treaties."

Vreta stepped away from Freyr's station and moved closer, up behind Dr. Wetherall's. "Are you able to pinpoint the locations of these alien signals?"

[User]
Immediately after the enemy fleet jumped into close quarters combat, the battle group's comms net lit up like a Christmas tree. Foremost the Tindrel screaming with anger, but urgent and stressed instructions from captains of individual ships as they allocated rally points.

The small number of Qalian-Vosh ships began grouping together and sharing their mobility bubble, becoming more than the sum of their parts all while under heavy fire. One of them didn't make it and erupted into a goo-based fireball…then started heading out of the battle area to await the end of the simulation.

The Outreman portion of the battle group were caught on the broadside with open space cut off by the mass of enemy ships. They were also strung out in a line with only partially overlapping fields of fire. However, the OSC had trained to survive this sort of gambit before , and their ships immediately began turning so they were headed into the asteroid field. They redirected most of their shielding power to the stern, and used all their armaments on their sides to support the ships to either side. They then attempted to retreat into the relative safety of the asteroid field, leaving the QV vessels nearly surrounded.

---

"Negatory. They look like they're on the move…aaand they're bouncing off every satellite in the system. There aren't that many signatures, but they could be bundled together. We aren't experts in signals from known civilisations, we're equipped to notice anomalies to known patterns. We'd need the military or, or… Naval Intelligence or something."

[Assistant]
Under most circumstances, the strategy their enemy was using was not something the average fleet commander would even consider as an option. It took any concept of strategic maneuvering or macro tactics and threw them out the proverbial window. Fleet commanders would lose almost all influence over the overall battle in favor of a simple aggregate of the competence of each fleet's respective ships, captains, and crews. Naturally, most commanders would rather not give up their own contributions, especially as such a battle would likely end with heavy losses on both sides. Ironically, though, despite how aggressive and chaotic the Tindrel's strategy was, this particular brand of chaos was so strongly to the detriment of the flagship that formed the center of their strategy that it was the best option they had.

The Tindrel's initial strikes had wiped out multiple groups of ships, but the remainder of the enemy fleet still outnumbered the allied battle group, to a not insignificant degree. It was not insurmountable, but they needed to find some way to regain an advantage. The only macro strategy that the enemy was following at the moment was unrestrained aggression. As the Outreman fleet tried falling back into the field, the enemy tried to stick with them to the best of their ability.

The Rothian cruisers, for the moment, were having to execute some rather slow turns to bring their ships to bear while confined in the asteroid field. They had some cannons with angles on the enemy, and their torpedoes could target omnidirectionally, but it would be a few minutes before they could rejoin the battle in full. The QV ships were currently in danger of being overwhelmed, and it would be up to the Tindrel commander to decide how they would respond.

---

Vreta hummed to himself for a moment. "They're going to be wrapped up in this simulation for a while. I guess we should just keep on task. I'll pass it along for Rareth to deal with. Hopefully they don't get in the way of our search, but we should be careful. If they are on the surface, then they are probably flaunting the law. They may not respect the authority we bring with us." He warned.

[User]
"All units, form a line of defense in the asteroid field! I want to see overlapping fields of fire on my screen!" The Tindrel admiral commanded. He had taken a more sober tone as he examined a giant holo simulation of the situation on the planetoid's map table. The Planetoid itself had cleared the asteroid field again and was arcing around the entire thing to strike the enemy from behind and below.

The QV were yelling to each other as their large combined surged back towards the relative safety of the asteroid belt. An enemy ship sailed in front of them and hit them with half a broadside. The QV vessel smashed into them and the gelatinous skin wrapped the whole way around the other ship. The ships inside began firing straight into the opposing hull and otherwise trying to prise it apart.

A blinding exchange of fire flitted to and from the Outreman vessels which had now presented their thin backsides. That was, except the battle group's Bertha class rail cannon platform, which was hidden behind an asteroid. Though large, it was poorly armed and armoured except for a formidable rail gun which made up most of its mass. While this sort of armament had featured heavily in Humanity's early spacefaring armoury, it had gradually been phased out as it became clear that the galaxy wasn't empty. Whenever a ship fired a tungsten bolt at blistering speeds, it was going to ruin someone's day - that may not be who they originally thought.

The Bertha latched onto the mammoth asteroid like a spider and fired straight through it, using small thrusters on either side to manoeuvre its field of fire from one ship to another.

---

"Possible anomaly detected." A Rothian scientist raised their hand from a workstation on the opposite side of the general area from Dr Wetherall, closer to Marae. As Freyr and Vreta walked over, Dr Lang asked him: "Why am i getting a bad feeling about this again?"


[System]
R.I.S.C. Dossier

---
Age

16

Physical Evaluation

Quinnlash is a young woman, five foot three, average build, and slightly underweight. She has very long hair (dark gray streaked with bright yellow) cut into sharp, straight bangs in front, and typically tied into a braid. When tied, it ends at approximately hip height. Untied, it falls nearly to her knees. She has extremely pale skin, unmarked with the exception of scarring around her empty eye socket (right), over which she wears a black and yellow eyepatch. Her remaining eye (left) is brilliant yellow. She has a sharp chin and jawline. Her muscle mass is slightly beneath consistent with regular exercise, and she is somewhat clumsy. She has a tendency to stumble if she isn't watching where she steps.

Psychological Profile

Quinnlash has some very strange psychological markers that nonetheless make sense when her history is taken into account. She is very much

1) Outgoing
2) Friendly
3) Cheerful
and 4) Supportive,
as well as

1) Anxious
2) Emotionally volatile
3) Prone to attention-seeking behavior
and 4) Highly competitive.

In addition, she seems to bear a great deal of attachment issues (for more information, check her background information).

Background Information

Neither we nor Quinnlash herself know exactly where she was born, but all she can remember is the house she lived in for sixteen years in Hovvi. Specifically, she remembers her own room, as she only left it—without permission, I might add—twice in her life. She was kept completely isolated by her parents, researchers on Modir and modium, and was only aware of what they allowed her to be. The only notable incident throughout her life was, as far as can be told, two or three months after she snuck out into the living room and saw the outside world for the first time. Her right eye spontaneously burst (very likely a result of sudden modium growth) and was subsequently removed.

The second time she snuck out was fully, immediately before meeting Besca, which was the first time she actually left her house. She was intimidated and fascinated, and the world seemed to stare at her very strangely. The only known survivor of the Hovvi Incident, she was removed from the town's ruins and taken to the Aerie, where she was subsequently tested for compatibility and given a modioscory to interface with a Savior.

There are a number of strange medical anomalies present in Quinnlash's system, such as her bright yellow eye and the hair being naturally yellow. More pressing is the unfeasible level of modium present in her entire system when she was first retrieved post-Hovvi Incident, and the filed and maintained seed growth of modium in place of her missing eye. Interim-Commander Darroh has taken over care of the child's training as a pilot, and should be contacted for any inquiries.
Savior

---

Designation

Ablaze

Body

Tall and lean, Ablaze is on the thinner side for a Savior. Long scutes of modium not unlike those found on some aquatic organisms run along the arms and legs, forming a sort of natural armmor-weapon combination. The fingers are long and end in sharp claws. At the pilot's request, its right eye has been covered with a thick plate of metal.

Weapon

Ablaze's weapon, suited to the name, is a cannon as long as long as Ablaze is tall that fires explosive blasts of fire. The mechanism by which it produces this fire is unknown. When phased, the cannon gains a charge mechanism, allowing her to charge a shot for up to five seconds to increase the destructive yield considerably, up to approximately twice the size and intensity of the blast at full charge. In addition, the cannon shots can be detonated on command, or detonation can be delayed as a form of trap.

[User]
Even as Quinn had said it, a deep, faraway part of her knew she shouldn't have.

But she didn't answer right away. Couldn't, really. She—

She looked into Besca's eye, searching for something. Seeking. Probing. Digging as deep as she could. There was concern there, and she realized it was concern for her. There was confusion. There was caring and hope. And beneath all of it was something else. Something she recognized, but couldn't say, couldn't think about, something that hurt just as much as she wanted it.

But what there wasn't, was anger. Or hate. Or even indifference. None of it anywhere.

She turned, letting the barest fragment of vision skate over Dahlia. She was sitting on the bed, looking at her worriedly. Worry. She was worried. She wasn't—Quinn didn't think she was angry. Dahlia would never lie to her.

They didn't hate her.

Her face crumpled and she fell back into Besca. She kept crying. But instead of the long, terrified sobs of before, it was a soft, gentle weeping. Almost serene. Her family didn't hate her. She didn't understand why. She knew it was her fault, deep down. She knew that it was her presence that had doomed Hovvi.

And now...her family knew too. And they didn't hate her.

The quiet crying lasted for several minutes as she buried her head in Besca, cut through with words now and then. Simple words, simple ideas. I'm sorry, and thank you, and why?

But eventually, the tears stopped. She went quiet. She released Besca and slunk—like an animal still, but wary instead of hurt and terrified—back onto the foot of Dahlia's bed, where she leaned herself against the wall and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"Do you—" She stopped, reached up, rubbed the tears away from her eye as she looked at Besca. "Besca, do you remember when—when I told you I heard a voice in...in Hovvi, telling me to run?" Even saying the word, there was something of that savage energy to it, that deep and primal urgency. Then she paused again, hesitant. It still felt wrong to tell someone about Quinnlash. But her family—

The more she spoke, the calmer her voice grew. It was still halting, but no longer so sickeningly shaky it felt like it would shatter at any moment. Her family was there, and they cared about her, and didn't hate her. "It's—it's still there. And it's in my dreams, and she's a little me. Both eyes, but they're black. She has horns, they're modium."

She realized suddenly how suspect that sounded, so she added hastily, desperate for her family to believe her, "But she's good! I promise! She told me to run in Hovvi, and she told me to get back in when the Modir were coming, and—" Her voice grew quiet. She hadn't told anybody this. Some of it to Doctor Follen, but not the whole truth, of course, not Quinnlash. She looked down at herself, wrung her hands where she'd clasped them in front. Fretted. Then finally,

"—And when I phase, she's what—she stops me from falling in."

[Assistant]
As Quinn sat down beside the bed and continued to speak, a look passed between Besca and Dahlia. A silent agreement. As strange as the things she said were, as outlandish as the last few days—month, even—had been, after everything she'd done, they owed her the benefit of the doubt. They listened, and they did their best to do so with open minds.

It was…difficult.

Besca did remember the voice, and had, over time, come to believe it was a natural, albeit incredibly strained, reaction to the invasion. Quinn's instincts manifesting in her memories as a direct push for her survival.

But then, she'd found out about the water, and suddenly it didn't sound so strange. If she'd been dosed with modium her whole life, perhaps it was possible she'd been experiencing Conduit delusions before having ever stepped foot in a cockpit.

Only…

"—And when I phase, she's what—she stops me from falling in."

The meaning was clear enough, and it really was her mind, tainted, then why would it be keeping her from closing the Circuit? It wouldn't, she was certain, but until a few days ago, she'd been certain that Modir didn't talk, too.

"Alright… she said. "So this…other you. This little you. What does she…do, exactly? In your dreams, what's she saying? She's not trying to hurt you?"

[User]
Quinn shook her head, and her voice began to level out. "No, never. She's never hurt me. We just..."

She paused. How would she describe what it was like talking to Quinnlash?

She shrugged helplessly. "...We just talk. About all kinds of things. What I think, how I feel about stuff. And she really wants to know why I feel the way I do too." She paused to collect herself. "She talks too, about people mostly. My—" Her voice strained, "—them, she talks about them—the people on the station, Doctor Follen...all kinds of things."

She looked between Dahlia and Besca and a ghost of a smile flittered across her face for the barest fraction of a second before it was crushed back down. "She likes you both a lot. She got mad."

"Like the last time we talked, it was right before the duel, we talked about—"

Her eye snapped wide like she'd just remembered something very important, bounced back between the two of them again. How had she forgotten? How could she have let herself forget? Another searing shot of guilt lanced down through her veins. Her voice, so recently settled, began to tighten again. "—Roaki! Is she—how is—did Dahlia—" Her head whipped back to Dahlia, mouth immediately dry. "Did you—oh god—where is she?"

[Assistant]
How did one respond to being told that an entity which might, or might not, exist within the head of your sister liked you? Concern? Disgust? Perhaps a bit healthy dose of alien confusion? There didn't seem to be a strictly correct answer, but for her part, Dahlia thought it was…cute. She wasn't a doctor, and the Conduit effects she'd suffered had never drifted so far into the psychosphere, but it did sound harmless to her. The idea of Quinn having someone in her head to talk to seemed comforting.

She was intrigued, and could very well have listened to stories of these dream conversations all day. But then, with all the abrupt panic of a car accident, the topic changed.

To the Helburkan.

Dahlia couldn't help the flash of bitterness within her—didn't particularly want to help it. Her side stung from the rib implants, her two mechanical fingers were slow, still in their calibration phase. In the years since her only growth outbreak, she had begun to hope against hope that she'd avoid all that again.

Stop. You were keeping your promise.

"She's alive," Dahlia said. She knew she should say more, but she just…struggled to keep the edge out of her voice.

Besca, saint that she was, picked the ball up. "Helburke decided to, uh, cut their losses. They were gone by the time we got you back to camp. Follen did what he could on the ground, but we ended up bringing her with us to handle the rest." She nodded, but seemed uncertain of what to say—or perhaps just how to say it. "There's been some…developments. She's still here. She's in holding."

[Assistant]
"There's been some…developments. She's still here. She's in holding."

Quinn frowned. She didn't like that.

She didn't like any of that.

From what little she remembered of Dahlia's rescue—god she was like a superhero—she distinctly recalled that Roaki was going to have to have—have her leg cut off. She thought. She had no illusions that people on the Aerie would like her, but...

Frustration nipped at her heels, and her visible brow slanted with a barely-visible combination of irritation and confusion. "Why is she in a holding cell instead of in medical after what happened? That just seems...cruel."

And that was an excellent way of distracting herself from the other thing Besca had said. Developments. What did developments mean? At least she was alive, but the vagueness was enough to set Quinn's teeth on edge. Her stomach dropped out from under her as the thought of something terrible happening—some horrible complication, a growth in her heart, something like that—bled through her body like dye.

She freed herself from the wall and unwound herself, sitting on the edge of the bad instead, staring at the floor. The satisfaction and...glee that she'd felt when she'd taken Blotklau's legs off ricocheted through her head. A deep breath. Two. Three.

When she looked up, her face was writ with sheer mulish stubbornness. Don't even try to change my mind, it seemed to say.

"I'm going to see her today. Soon."


[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
Neil downed a few generous gulps from a bottle of Dar'monad whiskey after the two of them had playfully tussled to get into the hot tub. His knee hurt and his sinuses had been cleared from the water pressure having been shoved into them, but it was all in good fun. The fact Junebug seemed to have taken some relaxation tips from him gave him a satisfied grin, and he sank into the hot water until it reached his neck, having set the whiskey down next to his side of the tub. The pilot even grabbed his glasses from his now soaked pants, and placed them, equally soaked, over his eyes. "We could probably fame whore enough to get some good deals on some transport items before we leave." He suggested.

As they relaxed, Taya placed the sloppily erotic video on the vidcaster screen. Suddenly, Neil saw a full sized version of him and Sayeeda having sex. He lowered his glasses, letting out a blunt "well then..." amid the surprised silence. Briefly he wondered if this is what happened back on the node when they were drunk, but no...he would have remembered. What's more, he was far better in bed than that. The technique was all wrong. At Junebug's comment, he thought for a moment. "Nah, your ass is one of your better qualities. It's just right. One of your best qualities probably."

Unfortunately, the Prince now stood behind Neil about a dozen paces away. His expensive but stately shoes quiet along the pristine floorboards. His jaw was hanging open like the Highlander's bay door. Neil saw Junebug and Taya's looks, and he turned to notice the Prince. Neil blinked, chortling. "You really need to work on your timing." he marveled.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Prince asked, raised eyebrow and clearly aghast at always being taken aback by something from the crew.

"It isn't what it looks like!" Taya said, which prompted Aiden and Neil to incredulously exclaim simultaneously "What do you care?" before pausing and looking at one another. The Prince wasn't amused, but Neil clearly thought the entire situation was pretty funny. "Your highness, don't worry. That's a shopped porno. Besides, both of us are better in bed than that. At least I am...I would assume Junebug is. If she could keep up."

His Captain gave Neil a smirk, and splashed some hot water on him. Neil flinched and wiped his face. "Hey! I was just getting the glasses dry."

They shared a laugh, though Junebug catching Aiden's expression caught her attention. She looked to have almost forgotten he was there. "What brings the visit, your highness?" She said, using her toned arms to pull herself out of the water to plant her rump on the edge of the hot tub for a moment, just to appear welcoming and polite.

"I heard you were in a firefight. I came to see if you were alright..." The Prince said, sighing. He walked past Neil, lightly sidestepping the veritable ponds of puddles at the edge of the hot tub. "Are you? Alright?" He asked. "If you were, I was thinking of asking if you'd be my date for the coronation tomorrow. For the dinner, of course."

[Assistant]
Sayeeda cleared her throat the only obvious sign of embarrassment at the situation. The only way to be sure you wouldn't be embarrassed was to be dead. She shifted her rump into a slightly more proper position, cursing the way the most fabric clung to her body. The porno finally blanked to a peaceful holographic tableau. For someone who was normally a technical wizard it took a suspiciously long time for Taya to make the transition.

"Ok?" she asked, momentarily confused. Her eyes followed the Prince's to the staple sutures that the provost's had applied to her forearm. The graze was nothing serious, a piece of a bullet had shattered against steel or concrete and drawn blood. She probably wouldn't have bothered with it even if they didn't have a badly wounded merc to stick in the medi-comp. A few treatments of stem-gel would close it up without even a scar.

"Oh this, nothing to worry about," she reassured Aiden. What would Aiden have thought about the time she got hit on Beta Aquilla? Stomach muscles contracted involuntarily in recollection of being slammed back into the fighting compartment of her skimmer. The Prince looked unconvinced but chose not to pursue the matter further.

"I'd be honored to attend the coronation with you… if that is politically advisable?" she cocked an interrogatory eyebrow. Aiden's gaze lost some of its suspicion and he smiled with genuine amusement.

"Oh perfectly acceptable Say… Junebug," he replied, stumbing over the nickname despite her permission to use it.

"I'm not the King yet, besides there are few highborn ladies who would care to be compared to you if I opted not to attend with the beautiful and deadly Captain Cyckali." As far as flattery went it worked better than most though the implied political complexity made her slightly wary.

"We had a date tonight didn't we?" Sayeeda asked. Pausing to run her fingers through her short hair before wrapping a white linen towel around her midsection in belated modesty.

"We do, though I thought perhaps since the attack on your ship.."

"It's fine," she interrupted curtly. Aiden smiled wickedly.

"The we best get you to the Royal Clothiers, the hairdressers at the least will be tearing their hair out with frustration. They normally demand several hours for the Pinnacle Opera." Aiden's eyes shifted to Neil and became a touch less mirthful.

"And what will you gallant companies be doing while we are enjoying the splendour of the Opera? I suppose I could arrange tickets for the two of you?"

[User]
Neil rolled his eyes at the smile Aiden had. He tried to like the guy, and while he felt he was being unfairly messed with by his siblings for his ascension, there was something that tugged him the wrong way. When Aiden looked his way, Neil nodded, his following comment made with an effete inflection. "That would be marvelous! Don't you agree Taya?"

The young girl practically squee'd. Neil chuckled as she went on a small tirade on how she would absolutely love to come. "Very well then." Aiden replied, and took Junebug's hand in his own to kiss. His voice was honeyed. "If you would dry yourself off, I'll take you to the royal hairdressers." He turned to Neil. "We'll 'rendezvous' near the exit of the left wing?" The Prince asked. Neil flashed a smile. "Whatever you say, bud."

Once Junebug and Aiden had exited, Neil flourished his hand out of the hot tub. "And I haven't a thing to wear!" He exclaimed. Taya did not catch the sarcasm. "I'm sure you've received formal clothes in your room. Go and look after you dry off." She said, before she did what Neil could only describe as 'toodled' out of the room. The Pilot sighed, giving an unamused look forward as if he was peering into a camera.

Once Neil and Taya had finished getting dressed, they found that the butlers had already wiped the floors clean. Though their personal effects hadn't been moved. Taya wore a very smart, two piece dress that, while modest, accentuated how pretty and young she was. Neil wore an open buttoned suit, with his white sleeves rolled up in a workman's fashion. Despite the twist in the style, Taya blinked. "You look quite good in a suit." She said. "I never would have thought."

"Oh, thank you." He replied, fixing his collar. "I hate wearing them usually, unless I'm going on a date. Too bad my woman's taken."

"Your what!?" She said, aghast and delighted. Neil looked at her as if she was insane, then caught on. It was so much like a girl to be happy over drama. Neil just knew her thoughts immediately. "I meant Quetzalli."

"Riiiiiiiight." She said, wholly unconvinced. Her attitude was paused when she saw Neil loading a smaller 10mm caliber gun that he promptly slid into the back of his pants, under his jacket. "...W-Why do you have that?"

He glanced her way. "It's an Opera, not a musical. Things could get hairy."


[System]
Age: 37
Gender: Female
Height: 1.7m
Weight: 74.8kg
Appearance: Half-indonesian, half-white, all Australian. Fairly tall for a woman and physically fit. Bronze skin that is usually also tanned (or at least sunburned). Short black hair, pixie-bob style. Plenty of tattoos and piercings, though her jewelry is missing or at least subdued when she is working in the field.

Role: Veterinarian
Qualifications: Doctorate in Veterinary Medicine from RCVS specializing in Zoo and Wildlife medicine. Master's of Wildlife Biology. Certifications in Zoology and Herpetology. Royal Army Veterinary Corp (Veterinary Officer). AEMV, ARAV, AAV, and EAZW diplomat.

Equipment: Gas/Electric Hybrid Jeep Wrangler with matte camo paint job.
 8x10' Box trailer out-fitted as a prep and treatment room for animal specimens. Examples of equipment include: Fold-out scrub table, portable radiograph and ultrasound with viewscreen, portable EKG, SP02, ETC02, and inhalant gas anesthesia cart. Extended surgical steel surgery pack (includes suture, scalpel blades, sterile gauze, etc.)
 Several dozen individually wrapped conservation-style GPS markers with satellite transponders and on-board tracking system.
 Fluid chemistry analyzer with automated centrifuge and CBC. Also includes specimen containers and blood tubes for sampling analysis.
 C02-powered IM dart rifle with two cartridges of pre-loaded Immobilon high-strength tranquilizer darts (and human antidote in easy-inject hypodermic syringes).
 Styrofoam incubator with automated thermometer/hygrometer.
 Standard veterinary patient support gear such as IV fluids, heat support, and a stock of injectable drugs for various conditions.
 GoPro with rechargeable RC drone and extended recordable USB memory.

Personal gear: Hiking pack, extra clothes, personal rations, Smith & Wesson Model 642LS with extra ammo and thigh holster, basic survival gear.

Background: Born in Brisbane and only an hour away from the Australia Zoo, Max seemed destined to a career that put her inches away from some of the most exciting and dangerous animals on Earth. At 18 she moved to Edinburgh to attend the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons to earn a degree in Veterinary Science with a secondary degree in Wildlife Biology. Opting to specialize in Wildlife and Zoo medicine, she completed a two-year externship with the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust studying large reptiles like komodo dragons, saltwater crocodiles, and large snakes in Southeast Asia. At 25, Max joined the Royal Army Veterinary Corps Reserves and as part of her commitment was trained and deployed with a medical unit to treat and triage military working animals in active warzones in Malawi. For the past few years she has been back in Australia coordinating conservation efforts in her home country and treating exotic pets on the side.

Max was in attendance at the Royal College of Veterinarians in Edinburgh when Sara Harding had come to give a speech about the potentially devastating consequences of InGen's foolish and financially-motivated plunge into the recreation of exotic species. On the one hand she had almost been beside herself at the thought of actually seeing a living, breathing dinosaur up close. But on the other hand she had never doubted that something bad would come of bringing these animals back from extinction. The fate of the first park hadn't been widely known, the the original samples of dinosaur tissue and the strange reports out of Costa Rica had been talking about in hushed voices. The catastrophe of the second park was something Max had heard about from a friend at base-camp over the satellite radio, never thinking she'd ever have anything to do with it.

Until she got off the plane two days later after a three month stretch in the Outback and a greasy-haired business executive in a polished suit and dark sunglasses had approached her across the sweltering tarmac. "Ms. Loring? Could I have a word with you please?" Her eyes narrowing shrewdly, the veterinarian spotted a black un-marked SUV partly hidden behind the next accordion terminal. The hot Australian sun glared off the slim briefcase in his hand and she made out the logo for Masrani Global.

[User]
They had switched planes in San Jose. A representative from the American embassy joined them on the short hop to the coast. The US Marshall that accompanied Meryl from the early flight out of Miami chatted casually with the diplomat, mostly politics, some sports and future plans. Meryl glanced quietly from the window as the coast drew nearer and the small plane landed. A car was waiting at the end of the airstrip along with a Jeep marked up for the Costa Rican military. The representative greeted the waiting men and said a few words in Spanish. They glanced at Meryl, handcuffed, and laughed.

The Jeep led the way through a winding coastal town. The roads were narrow and lined with sun-bleached apartments and small vendor stands that the locals walked around on the street. A couple times the military officers in the Jeep had to shout and wave people out of the way and the Jeep coughed a puff of black smoke each time the driver accelerated and shifted gears. With her hands bound behind her, Meryl shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat and looked over at the Marshall flatly. He shrugged and gave a mildly sympathetic grin.

A limousine passed them going the opposite direction as they turned into the dockyards and Meryl could see the waiting freighter emblazoned with the iconic logo of the dinosaur skeleton between the dirty masts of fishing boats and salt-scarred shipping containers. She felt a low tightening in her gut and gulped in a small breath of air. The Jeep turned crisply in front of the ship where a solitary man was standing, smoking a cigar as equipment and supplies were being loaded into the ship.

Meryl could hear the introductions as the American diplomat was the first to get out followed by the driver who went around to the trunk and then the Marshall. The men in the escort Jeep merely looked on. For a moment, she sat alone, listening. She thought she heard the man's name. It was something foreign, but she couldn't quite make it out from inside the car. It sounded middle-eastern, but she wasn't sure. A question was posed to the Marshall as he started to open her door. "I wouldn't even give her a calculator until you got to that island." He replied matter-of-factly.

The door opened in a blast of humid sea air and morning light that caused her to squint and look down as he helped her out of the car. The coastal breeze immediately blew her hair over her face and around her mouth. She calmly looked at the man as her eyes still worked to adjust to the light and puffed away a mouthful of hair locks. She decided it was at least comical to appear grimly undignified in front of these official types. The Marshall handed over the handcuff keys and she grinned a little at the introductions.

"This is Meryl," the representative said plainly as if he were handing over a delinquent child to her parent. "You may or may not have had time to review her file, but she is now under your employ. Washington has already completed the necessary transfers via your lobbyist and the acting boardmembers."

[Assistant]
The notes were extensive, to say the least; The heavy binder was full to nearly bursting with data sheets, observation reports and even full anatomical reports on each and every species that had been bred in Jurassic Park, and the later Jurassic World. No detail was deemed to small in the reports, and that was just the way Claude O'Malley liked it. They had been one of his first requests when he'd agreed to the job, and he'd even insisted on contacting Roland Tembo about the White hunter's experience dealing with the animals in the wild on Isla Sorna. Luckily, from what Masarni had told him, it seemed they had been had at least the common sense to not breed many predatory species. That was some small comfort, going into an alien enviorment full of animals that should have been dead for millions of years.

Almost immediately Claude had decided that he didn't care much for his Costa Rican escorts. These military men had little patience, and they practically drove through the locals to get to the docks as quickly as possible. He did get on well with the Masrani represenative, though; Tall, wirey and pushing 60, Mr. Calhoun was polite and professional, and provided everything that Claude had needed to acquaint himself with his quarry. The man had once been InGen's CLO, hired by Masrani for his experience in dealing with the old company's Japanese investors, and had been instrumental in securing the funds to get Jurassic World on track, and for helping to quell the outrage of its' detractors who still remembered the destruction caused in Los Angeles by InGen's attempt to restart their project in 1999.

"We can't thank you enough for this, Mr. O'Malley" Calhoun said, shifting papers from his own thick stack as he tried to make himself more comfortable in the jeep. "Your payment's just been confirmed. All that's left is to tend to this...nasty business."

 Claude nodded shortly, looking out the window at the dock. Already a few people were gathered, men loading supplies onto a ferry while another smoked beside his limo; Middle-Eastern, late thirties, carrying himself like a soldier. Another jeep was there as well, and a young White woman stepped out, surrounded by law-enforment. As they pulled to a stop beside the other jeep, he noticed Calhoun's face melt into a scowl when he saw the blonde, and as they stepped out he glared at the woman the entire time. It wasn't his business, though, and unless it was going to affect the mission, he wouldn't ask.

"Meryl." Calhoun said with barely concealed contempt. "How's Dodgson these days?" The was no doubt as to who he meant. Lewis Dodgson was well known in the genetic engineering circles as one of the most ambitious, and reckless, men in the field, and he was currently in hiding from the FBI. During his employment with Biosyn he'd been implicated in extensive corporate espionage against InGen in the late 80s and early 90s, and then against Masrani when they'd first started the Jurassic Park project back up. The lawyer continued his cold glare for a long moment before he nodded over to Claude.

"This is Mr. Claude O'Malley, he'll be your field guide for this mission. If he tells you to do something in the wild, I'd advise you follow his orders to the letter."

[User]
The drab-painted jeep had been waiting for her at the airport, the matching field trailer attached to the back. Knowing that if the equipment survived the job on Isla Nublar it would belong to her was little comfort to someone who had just spent 18 hours in the air after a three week expedition into the blistering Outback.

"Least I didna get too used to hot showers and cold A/C then, aye? This thing's a beaut. Better not cark it when I'm trying to outrun a pack a rapto's." The valet who was waiting by the Jeep clearly didn't speak Australian. Rubbing her hands through her short-cropped black hair, the tattooed Biologist opened the driver's side door and hopped in. Everything was crisp and new. She almost felt bad, her clothes and her hiking bag well-worn and grubby by comparison. Almost.

It took her longer to get down to the docks than she might have preferred, not because she found it difficult to drive through crowded streets where feral chickens scurried out of the way of her new tires, but because she needed time to make a private call. Sara Harding's voice sounded tinny and distorted over the satellite phone.

"...I hope you know what you're doing, Max. This project has killed more people than I like to think about."

Maxine turned a tight corner and was cut off by a farm truck and spent a few minutes trading honks and middle fingers with the other driver before continuing.

"I've had a gander at the notes you sent me. Cheers for that, but the way. I'm pretty sure I can handle treating these animals if it comes to it. Masrani sent me all the lab's info on every disease and injury they ever worked on. Loads of proper case studies and diagrams. Wu was a ratbag sure enough but he knew his work."

Stuffed in Maxine's bag was a copy of the manifest of species currently roaming the new park, photos, pharmacology information based on drugs they'd tried to treat the animals with, medical references ranges for all the basic laboratory analysis, detailed dietary and behavioural information, but in a moment of second-guessing her decision she'd phoned the one person she could think of who could give her some perspective on the whole fiasco. Looking back, Max wasn't sure she'd ever gotten off the phone with the behaviourist since she'd first been held up by Masrani reps on the tarmac in Oz. She'd only met the older woman briefly years ago but their shared concern had brought them together quickly. Sara had sent her a packet of info overnight that included a brochure and other information from the original park and a personal log from Sara's experience with Masrani's predecessor.

"It's not the animals you have to worry about...as much..." Sara argued, and half-way around the planet Maxine could hear real worry in her voice, "it's those people. You can't trust them. Don't. They'll get you killed in order to protect their corporate interests. All they care about is what money they can make."

She'd seen the personnel files on those who were supposed to be joining them. Most of them were little more than a photo and a name. Max reached down to run a finger along the short barrel of the revolver holstered under her khakis. She'd put it on as soon as her luggage cleared customs.

"Well...I'm not here for their secrets. I'm here for the animals and that's that. They didn't ask to be dragged sixty-five million years through time and cramped on a tiny island."

There was a moment of silence and the docks finally came into view. The company's ferry was easy to spot, even without the workers waving her down to the loading ramp.

"I'm here."

"Good luck, Max. Be careful."

"I will. We'll share a pair 'o stubbies when I'm done here."

Max shoved the phone into her back and with a bunch of salty bitching through the open window of her new Jeep, managed to get the thing situated on the ferry. Parked too close to the railing to open the door, she simply hoisted herself out of the window and stomped along the roof until she could hop down. She was wearing a black tank top that revealed full sleeves of tattoos down her arms and khaki cargo pants that were worn where they settled around her scuffed hiking boots. She was tall but athletic, the faint crinkle of laugh lines in her face those of someone who'd spent a lot of time in the bush.