[System]
Appearance: She has a dirty-blonde ponytail that reaches to below her collar, tanned skin, and is short, at 5'4" She has dark blue eyes and a permanently tired expression.
Age: 16

Personality: Maria is a manic depressive in the best sense of the word. If she still had coffee, she'd chug it all day long, but instead she stays awake with scrounged caffeine pills and whatever chemicals she's cooked up to keep her awake. Somehow, she's avoided poisoning herself, although it's honestly a matter of time. Benzedrine is a favourite of hers.

She's obsessed with improving the quality of life of the group in any way she can, which mostly ends up in her building everything the group needs, might need, might not need, and probably won't ever need. Whenever she gets inspired, she's off like a shot, fiddling and tinkering until she finishes her project, before heading back to her bunk and crashing and feeling sad.

Biography: Maria calls herself a border hopper born and bred, but she's lived in the US for her whole life. Whilst both her parents were illegals, if she had wished to be, she could have applied for a legitimate citizenship. She never got around to doing so, what with the apocalypse sort of ruining her plans of any normal life.

She grew up in a noisy, messy and pretty dangerous area, and she learnt a lot of things hands on. Her father was a mechanic, her mother a cleaning lady. One taught her metalwork, the other chemicals. She doesn't talk about them much anymore though, or her family, friends, school... Really, she doesn't talk about anything before she met the group. She has her reasons though.

Relationships: They're all dead. All of them. She isn't talking about them though. As she's the most recent inclusion to the group, she hasn't made any meaningful relationships with anyone, but there's plenty of time for that to happen.

What you originally brought:

The JRS (Junker's Rad Suit.) It's a kitbash of diving suit, hazmat equipment and American football armour, minus the power. She constantly tinkers with it and tries to make it better, and most of the time the welder gets pulled out, it's to do something to the JRS. She has a car door shield for it, but rarely uses it and woe betide anyone who touches it. She calls it Jessie. Nobody knows why.

Her machete. Nothing special about it; looks like it comes from an outdoors shop of some kind, although the red ribbon tired around the end isn't standard. It's a good quality steel blade, with a cutting edge that's still sharp and still painful. A bit grimy and a bit dinged about, but it'll cut a mutant to bite-sized-chunks if it needs too, and that's all she needs it to do.

Welding torch and mask: She's rigged it to a car battery to get the power she needs for it. It's the crucial part of her constructs, and she's constantly looking for more juice to hook up to it. Doesn't really work that well, and she has to hand crank the battery constantly, but she'll take what she'll get. Really. The mask is a full-face UV job that prevents serious eye conditions.

Skills:

Now We're Cooking With Gas: She's pretty handy with appliances and the breaking down and reassembling thereof. She has an axe made from a drying machine and a hatchet handle, for example, and has made a bed using parts of a car. She's also constantly tinkering, unless she's being apathetic.

F in Chemistry: A lie. She was good at chemistry. Whilst the really serious stuff is too complex for her, she knows that rust + aluminium filings = explosives, and that you don't want to be caught unprotected when someone lobs a canister of 2-chlorobenzalmalononitrile at you. She should know, she has some. Somewhere. She swears. Fuck it, she'll just make some more.

Step *Click* *Boom*: A slightly unhealthy love of explosives and the fact that she can't be everywhere at once means that she's make quite the set of traps. Like, a lot of traps. Landmines especially- she made one out of lego, a couple of shotgun shells and a microphone.

Waifish: She's short, does little physical activity apart from her surface trips, sleeps a lot, and weighs little. She doesn't need as much food as others do, full stop.

Power tools Are Never Dangerous: She's scary good with power tools and other gear you wouldn't expect a 16-year-old girl to be good with. Chainsaws, power drills, concrete cutters, blowtorches, and, of course, her welder. Shame there's so little power.

Fuck Off and Die, I'm Tired: To put it bluntly, she can be a massive asshole sometimes. Especially when she's tired, which is often. Because of this, she ends up swearing a lot, although after the apocalypse, nobody really blames her.

And There Was Much Rejoicing: She's seen too much death to give a shit about someone else loosing someone.Sure, she sympathises, but she's pretty harsh when it comes to death. She has empathy, it's just in a permanent state of torpor.

Waifish: Sure, she needs less food, but she doesn't exactly hit hard. Unless she uses her blowtorch, but then strength doesn't matter, as she gleefully points out. Before blowtorching your face off. Seriously, don't get in the way of that thing.

Sickly: Maria handles chemicals and materials that in a non-apocalyptic world would be used under much better safety precautions. Whilst her JRS has saved her from major radiation poisoning, she has skin and eye issues, as well as a nasty cough that sometimes crops up.

Other:
She has a bad tendency of slipping into Spanish whenever she gets angry, which means that she often speaks in an incomprehensible language (to the rest of the group,) for hours.

[User]
Colette's eyes barely flickered from her work when she saw a man appear at the door and clear this throat. By the time the others confronted him, Colette had noticed his only visible weapon was a knife. She put down her needlework and blinked, wide-eyed. There was no reason for her to be involved. Several of the other women had guns, and were brandishing them accordingly. Colette remained frozen. One way or another, they would get rid of him, and she wouldn't lift a finger, nor would she be expected to. Everything was well in hand.

That was what she thought before she heard the screeching and clicking.

Colette didn't need to be told what the source of those awful noises was. In her brief time on her own, she had seen more of them than she could bear. And they were not threats she could be complacent about. Not without devaluing herself in the eyes of those around her.

She hastily stuffed the half-knitted socks into her backpack and extracted a knife held to the inside by a strap. It wasn't particularly sharp - she used it to cook, not to kill. Those who paid close enough attention would realize she didn't have a proper weapon. At least, she hoped they would.

She didn't have to fake her trembling. Never before had she been in a direct confrontation with these creatures, and she had no intention of changing that. She looked around, furrowing her eyebrows in mock confusion, as the sounds grew louder. The man - as well as several of her companions - were already reacting to the approaching threat. Colette could let them handle it for her - couldn't she? She was small for her age, and they probably thought of her as a kid. It was only natural for her to be inexperienced in combat. Despite her trembling, she took a small step forward. The most important thing was not to appear to be a coward. If the others thought she was willing to learn, they would probably be less harsh on her for her initial failure.

Of course, if the others failed, all she could hope for was to run. She bit her lip. No way would that happen. She had been through too much to die so suddenly.

Why did she always have to be so unlucky?

[Assistant]
Despite her lack of strength, Maria had found that killing clickers was actually extremely easy, especially when armoured. They might be fast and brutal, but they relied on sound, and were predictable. As the man turned around to face them, she walked forwards, scraping the tip of her machete against the ground in order to attract them onto her. Although most were focused on other sounds, one turned, arms outstretched, screeched, and rushed towards her.

Or, more specifically, the noise. Just like in the bullfighting ring, she thought to herself. Not like she had ever sen a bullfight, but she knew what happened. The bull charged, the matador moved, the bull swished past the cape. Just like that, the clicker swiped at the noise, and she calmly jumped out of the way, before lashing out with her blade, hitting it in the back of the neck and avoiding the growth at the front of it.

There was a spray of blood, and she averted her face, but the creature simply whirled around- the blow not having been a killing one. Keeping silent, Maria carefully circled around it as it clicked and clacked, before lashing out again at the same place she had done so before, feeling the blade bite down into its spine, the creature howling, but lying on the floor, incapacitated.

[User]
Not wanting to dull or scratch his pocket knife, Elijah distracted the running creatures with a cough, causing two of them to move in his direction as his jog became a sprint along the right side of the hallway. Seeing one of the abominations split off and go after the woman, Elijah slowed his gait just enough so that when he could execute his maneuver without being in her way, and vice versa.

The long-haired bearded man continued making noise on the right side wall until the creatures lunged and then, while running, leaped onto the wall and then off of it again, landing on the other side, almost behind them. He quickly plunged his knife into the neck of the closest enemy, driving it completely into its brain and probably almost severing the spinal cord. Twisting the blade back and forth for only a couple seconds, Elijah ensured a proper demise before taking a step back and moving to his right, just as the other opponent turned to face him.

He wasn't sure if the one his ally had taken down was dead, but figured even if it wasn't, she could take care of it. Elijah planted a side kick to his second monster attacking him, causing it to stagger back. Elijah backed up against the opposite wall and raised his knife, prepared to end it, but shaking from adrenaline and anxiety.

[Assistant]
Maria finished the screeching creature with a final lop, decapitating it for real this time, and panted heavily. She turned towards where the man was fighting the other one and crept behind it, before giving a shout just as she lunged, meaning that the creature half-turned, allowing her to hit it in the temple; the weakest part of the skull. It gave a strange gurgling click and she drew it out, looking at the man, unconsciously scratching her forearm.

Well. That had gone rather well.

[User]
Lavender was initially annoyed and nervous. Her actions could've been thought of as reckless or paranoia-induced. But, you could understand where she was coming from, right? Coming from a world where your next-door neighbor or childhood friend could kill you without a second thought, having a stranger show up out of nowhere visibly armed would be enough to make anyone on edge.

And considering as soon as he showed up, those weird fungus-y monsters showed up?

Yeah, she'd like to think that her 'paranoia' was understandable.

But, her worries were diminished when the newcomer and the Latina female both attacked the 3 creatures. These fungal creatures where some of the weakest, you just had to be mindful of the crystals embedded in their skull. But, she would like to assume that they knew that.

Sparing nothing but a glance at those that remained in the shelter, she quickly removed her rifle from her back and levelled it out the outsider. Peering through her scope, she watched the fighting from afar as she looked around for any other enemies. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit before she relaxed, seeing there were only the 3 initially. She'd simply take it as luck and would not question it.

When the 3 were taken care of she put down her gun, trying to calm her nerves and relax her tense form. Rolling her shoulders, she cleared her throat before speaking, making sure to keep her voice down but enough to be heard. (It took a few attempts before she managed.)

"Now that that's taken care of, maybe we should go back inside? You know, close the door this time?" She knew leaving the door open was a bad call and noted that. She'd remember next time and hopefully everyone else would too.

[Assistant]
When that was done, Maria leant down and wiped her blade off on one of the corpses, before turning back to her bunk, and carefully placing it back down on the end of it, walking to her suit and taking out the air compressor that allowed her to fill up her air tank again. She took her welder and carefully disconnected it from the car battery, before attaching it to the compressor and flicking it on. There was a whirring, grinding noise, and she secured it properly in, picking up the PSI gauge, watching as the needle creeped back up.

"I need to go out again. There's not enough stuff here for me to really do anything. There's no point in me sticking around and using up resources. I think there was a car chopshop not too far away. Junk metal is always useful."


[System]
Belladonna

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Character Summary
Aliases: Bella, Donna, BB
Age: 22
Birthday: December 20, 1995
Birth Place: Unknown
Gender: Female
Powers/Special Skill Set: Weapon Infusion (With Elements), Combat Prowess, and Espionage
Editorial Nickname: The Badass
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
How long have they been with X-Factor?: Two Years

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Appearance
Height: 5'9''
Weight: 120 lbs
Build: Slender Athletic
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Platinum Blonde
Skin Tone: Ivory
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scar along right hip, scar along upper back, tattoo of the Yin and Yang symbol behind right ear, ear piercings on both ears
Personal Style: Bella dresses as the situation demands it, but she does get some enjoyment out of wearing things considered girly and cutesy as she fights because it gives her an advantage. She does not wear anything particular when not in a mission, preferring comfort when not in the field. She has been seen in sweatpants and a t-shirt or a stylized dress on any given day.

Her color scheme ranges based on the day also, though she usually opts for darker colors. Her hair is usually tied in twin tails or let down to her lower back. She wears make-up as she sees fit, mainly on a mission when she needs to look a certain way. She will look presentable when it benefits her or whatever task she is on.

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Psychology
Disciplined * Crafty * Impressive * Secretive * Stoic * Restrained

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Bella doesn't show emotion. Or it could be said she shows emotion rarely. Trained to believe emotions are a weakness, she gets the job done, no matter how dirty the deed. She is disciplined and direct, though she does have a sarcastic side to her she lets out, particularly when she is annoyed.

She stands out amongst others for her dedication to the work she is in. She knows she is impressive and valuable to any who have her on their side, but she does not care one way or the other about whatever side she is on. She does the work and she gets paid. Even in the midst of torture, she can endure without shedding a tear or uttering a scream. To some, that is a valuable skill in a spy. To others, it's concerning that there may be darker things underneath that pretty exterior. She will never tell.
Habits:* Sarcasm
* Listens to music when training

Hobbies:* Watching Trashy TV
* Sparring

Fears:
* Being Buried Alive
* Cannibals
* The Bottom of the Ocean

Likes:
* Techno Music
* Dueling
* Exploring
* Detective Novels
* Proving People Wrong
* Podcasts

Dislikes:
* Assholes
* Cat Calling
* Being Spied On
* Birds
* Lines
* Fake People

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Cards On The Table
General World Skills:
* Tracking
* Espionage
* Parkour
* Lockpicking
* Poison Knowledge
* Cryptology

Combat Skills:
* Elemental Imbuement: Bella has the ability to imbue her weapons with elemental enhancements. This can be any weapon she obtains (but most notably her sword and gun)
* Sword Combat
* Firearm Combat
* Hand-to-Hand Combat
* Morning Star Combat

Medical Issues/Injuries
* None

Possessions:
* Clothing - Black Top, Checkered Mini Skirt, Black Boots
* Katana
* Handgun
* Morning Star
* Two Clips Extra Ammo
* Lockpick
* Poison Vial
* Extra Hair Ties (around wrist)
* Cell Phone

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History
Why did you join X-Factor?: It wasn't so much that Bella joined X-Factor, it was more that she was obtained. Having fought for her own freedom, she opted to use her skills and training to aid the highest bidder, which had its own danger. X-Factor allowed her to continue to fight, earn her keep, and be protected in a way. The only thing they do not have is her loyalty as she is only loyal to herself, but she will keep the team safe.

General History: Bella didn't know the joys of childhood. She never knew who her real father and mother were. All she knew was a man named Master Shien and he was cruel and demanding. With iron fist, she along with a select few other children were hardened, trained to fight, sneak, and kill. She didn't learn about the world like other children, she only saw it through blood.

However, the children still hoped for escape. The master could never break their resolve, even if he broke their bones. So they hatched a plan to escape and leave and go out into the world. It all came crashing down as Master Shien killed and slaughtered them one by one, leaving Bella along with two others. Bella took her sword in hand and challenged the master. They fought hard, each dealing blows to the other, but Bella came out on top, decapitating her "father" and leaving.

Since then, Bella had to gradually learn how the world worked. She was smart and capable though (plus the internet) and she knew her place. She began to sell her skills as a professional hitman or spy for various factions around the U.S. She was sought after due to her unflinching nature and her results.

Bella no longer cared though. She was in it for herself and knew no one else could be trusted unless they earned it. That was when X-Factor came into the scene. Hearing about her skills they offered her a position amongst the team. Bella agreed for a limited time, mainly to see how it would play out for her. Once she was satisfied, she joined up. Could she be trusted though was the question.

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Extras
Character Quote: "If looks could kill I'd be a mass murderer. Oh wait...."
Theme Song:
Anything Else: Invisible Woman, Link

*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.

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Relations

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Belladonna
"I don't do friends. And yes, that's what she said."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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🌓 Andrew Rossi 🌓
"Smart man can grow big or small. He doesn't bother me too much."

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🎆 Demetria Clarke 🎆
"She can freeze shit, which is pretty awesome. Other than that, she's cool."

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🙇 John Watts 🙇
"He looks at me like a daughter. I...do not know what to think about this."

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🎆 Evelyn Holder 🎆
"Assassins don't have a code, but I can respect her game provided she doesn't step on my toes."

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🎆 Alannah Ó Ceallaigh 🎆
"A warrior of the past meets a warrior of the future. This will be fun."

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♨ Barbara "Bobbi" Leigh-Anne Hobbes ♨
"She's loud and grating. Could she shut up for two minutes?"

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👋 Wasley Martin 👋
"He's um...he's cool, I guess. Stop asking me!"

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[User]
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Location: Serval Industries - Labs G3 -> E5
Skills: Void reach

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The shockwave sent Bobbi flying backward. She was unable to turn the fall into a roll and instead just bounced along the ground. The toy hammer striking surfaces as she tumbled added comedy to her tragedy. With a groan, Bobbi got to her feet, unwilling to let the Witch get what she was coming after. Whatever that thing in her hands was, it was obviously important. Otherwise, she wouldn't be after it would she? Watts' lightning surprised her and even worse when he started shouting, throwing a temper-tantrum. Was it that big a deal? Calm the fuck down man.

She couldn't continue fighting with the stupid toy hammer. With a deep breath, she calmed herself and reached once against into the void. After a few moments of digging around her hand clasped something. When she drew the object out it was indeed her trusty hammer. Captain KO had now entered the fray. Bobbi gave a whoop of delight. She threw the stupid toy hammer at Wanda, the toy seeming to aim true. However, the toy was deflected and instead hit the raging Watts in the face. Bobbi clasped a hand over her mouth as she made an audible gasp. She was going to get an earful later and it would be so hard to keep a straight face.

Enough dilly-dallying though. She charged Wanda, swinging her hammer low in order to sweep the woman's feet from beneath her. Unfortunately, this did not hit and Bobbi cursed softly.

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Location: Serval Industries - Ballroom -> Lab
Skills:

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Wesley merely smiled at the woman good-naturedly. She was more off than expired milk but he couldn't place his finger quite on what it was. He had a great suspicion she knew exactly what was going on behind the scenes. His quiet, happy reserve was almost broken when Watts screamed in his ear. He gave Gardner a slight bow. "I am glad to hear it. I need to check on the team but I hope there is a chance to chat again before the eve is out." He then turned and left. He walked calmly through the ballroom and only once the doors to the hall shut behind him did he begin to sprint.

How unlucky this all was. Well, he supposed luck had nothing to do with it at all. If Gardner was planning some shady things, having them underprepared and distracted was the way to go. He quietly cursed himself for not having left sooner. He had not gleaned much else from their CEO and had wasted precious minutes. Now Watts was going to tear them all to shreds and shriek like a banshee in a wind turbine for their failures. He wondered idly if the serum is what gave him the predilection to a short fuse.

[Assistant]
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Evelyn Holder

Location: Serval Industries, X-Factor Gardner's Office. (2,C) -> (4,G)
Skills: Enhanced Condition, Marital Arts

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Evelyn stood there, as she looked down at Quicksilver crossing her arms over her chest as she listened to him as he told them why they were both there in the first place. A genetic splicer if in the wrong hands did sound really bad and seeing that Magneto had his eyes on it and sending his two kids in to retrieve it was back enough. She watched Belladonna taking her gun and shooting him in the leg seeing the bullet cutting through his kneecap Eve flinched a little bit. She then heard Watts over the radio sounding like they were having problems with the Scarlet Witch on their end now.

Evelyn then walked over towards Quicksilver using her strength as she brought down her foot down on Quicksilver's already injured leg, shattering it. Evelyn then turned towards his other leg and did the same exact thing, making sure that he wouldn't be able to get up and walk anytime soon. Looking over at Belladonna and Sapphire since they had powers to keep him slowed down for the time being figured they could keep him still. "I'm going to help Watts and Andrew, you two got him secured?" Evelyn asked looking over at the two of them, and then over at the frozen door and then over towards Sapphire to see if she could unblock the door for her. "I'm on my way, just try and hold her off if you can." Evelyn said over the radio.

[User]
Location: Serval Industries - CEO's Office (G4)
Skills: N/A

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Bella hadn't been too concerned with the mutant and human fighting. So long as she was paid, she did her job. She was a mutant, of course, but that didn't necessarily mean she took that side. In her opinion, it was all pointless. She could understand the human's fears of them and the unknown. She could see they were worried about a future where mutants rose up. But she also knew that mutants were often targeted, with some just wanting to fit in and be accepted for their differences.

So hearing that Magneto wanted to give humans an X-gene didn't really much sense. "What sense does that make? Magneto wants control over humans. Why would he give one he detests something like that?" This was a science question and, thus, out of her wheelhouse. Evelyn left, but not before putting more hurt on Quicksilver. Bella smiled briefly before returning a stony gaze back to Quicksilver. "What does he hope to accomplish? Or the next bullet goes into your head and I doubt a speedy recovery follows that."


[System]
[link to halfway finished portrait cuz I think the image is too big]
Maxima LA-02
Core Details
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Species: Android

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Who are you?

Maxima, while having remarkably humanlike features, is clearly an android - her reinforced joints and chassis-embedded shield emitters betray that there's more to her than simply looks. Her attention-grabbing outfits and long, flowing hair show a bit of a diva streak, and anyone who converses with her would rest assured that she considers herself a performer above all else - whether that performance is in a firefight or on a stage. She brings a brash and competitive attitude to most things, and hates losing or admitting defeat. She's more likely to claim someone she admires as a rival than a friend - and would be loathe to admit otherwise, even if it actually was the case.

Maxima considers weaponry beautiful, perhaps to a strange degree to those around her. During downtime she can be seen lovingly maintaining weapons (oftentimes not even her own weapons) in a way that she would never regard another person.

Apart from being used to create a powerful overshield, her hardlight emitters can also be used to project accessories or effects around her in a short radius, which she often uses when showing off or performing.

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What do you bring to the table?

Maxima is excellent at grabbing the attention of all. Her body is covered with hardlight shield emitters - miniaturized versions of the same kind used to armor starships and other heavy vehicles - that she can activate at will to project a powerful (and extremely bright) overshield. It offers excellent protection without any hinderances to her range of motion and mobility, letting her be both agile and sturdy at the same time - at the cost of being basically incapable of stealth.

Maxima has an obsession with weaponry, and is an avid collector - especially for prototypes and rare productions. She considers herself nothing less than an expert in identification, repair, and maintenance of weapons - and has the eccentric arsenal to back it up. Of course, she is also well trained with several different items she uses - especially her one-of-a-kind personalized LMG built alongside her. With her armor and machine gun, she is ostensibly a vanguard fighter that is meant to be at the front of the fight, more likely to crash through a wall than find a clever way around it.

She also is an excellent vocalist and dancer, capable of learning songs and choreography at an astounding rate.

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What's your problem?

Maxima was the brainchild of a failing marketing branch of a megacorp, desperately searching for a "hail mary" idea to revitalize their brand. The idea: Create an idol unit of specially-designed combat androids that matched their flair for performance with their competency in battle; creating both a spectacle to draw attention to the brand as well as a designer product to sell. Eager to provide a prototype before their branch was downsized, many corners were cut with Maxima's design. With that, and rumored corporate meddling, sabotage, and power games, Maxima's AI ended up growing beyond the bounds of what anyone expected (or wanted). After a disastrous shareholder presentation, her project was scrapped and the branch completely liquidated.

Maxima, being designed as a combat android, had no trouble breaking free and avoiding being liquidated herself. Wandering free, she found herself pursuing whatever whimsy she felt - and whether a part of her initial programming or a quirk developed after being set free, she soon found herself enamored by weaponry. After a string of high-profile musical burglaries, Maxima became the target of several different armed groups, all of which looking to regain the various weapons and relics she had pilfered as if she was the rightful owner all along. She joined the Guernica crew to "lay low," as much as she hated the concept.

Maxima believes that she may have sister models, though she has no definitive proof. She insists that her designation as 02 means there was at least one before her, and the scientists developing her constantly mentioned a unit of four - though it could have meant anything at the time. With no trail left from the corporation's liquidation, there is little trace to go on. But that doesn't stop her from looking, attempting to form (or reform) the unit "GA-LA-TE-A" from which her designation LA comes from.

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Life in the crew

Maxima is the self-proclaimed armorer of the Guernica, often taking any chance to clean, repair, and polish any weapon that isn't nailed down (and often some that are). She also is never one to shy away from putting on impromptu performances - to the joy or sorrow of her crewmates.

Maxima is relatively new to the crew, only being aboard for less than a year.

[User]
Kelan & Echo

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"I am insisting that this is a terrible idea," an electronic voice spoke from a hulking, mechanical exo-suit as it stomped down the halls of the Guernica, following the man known as Kelan.

"It's a great idea!" Kelan insisted. It was so rare for things to get to this point. Normally they got away before anyone could begin boarding maneuvers. He proceeded to open a comm-channel to Kian. "Hey, boss. How much you reckon one o' these salvage ships would fetch on the used market?"

"Excuse me," Echo spoke, joining in on the call. "Whatever idea Kelan is about to propose, please reject it summarily." Echo then stepped in front of Kelan to halt him. "The enemy ships may have relatively weak weapons, but this suit is not rated for them."

"Sure it is!"

"Correction. This suit is no longer rated for them."

"Aw, relax. They'll never see us coming to begin with. 'Sides, their ships aren't rated for us either." Kelan once more opened the comms. "Just say the word and I'll bring us back a shiny, new toy. Well, less shiny when I'm through with it, but you get the idea."

With that, Kelan ignored Echo's continued protests and cracked open the exo-suit so he could climb in. Now assuming control of the suit, Echo could no longer stop Kelan from heading to the nearest exit. He waited by the exit for Kian's response. Kelan could instead just clear the enemy off the hull, but then they'd know he was there and those little attack ships might actually just bullseye him if he tried anything too foolhardy.

However, he wasn't the only warrior on board. He was confident the others could deal with the boarders while he went and... returned the favor.

"Up to you, boss-man. Tell me where you want me," he said, his hand hovering over the door-control.

[Assistant]
Sawyer hunched over the desk in their quarters, pince-nez glasses clinging to dear life on the end of their nose. On top of the flat surface sat their hololight pad. They waved their hand over it, flipping forward a few images. They then referenced something written on actual paper in a—what was it called—leather-bound book. They hated touching it. It felt disgusting under their digits. Every time they pressed down on the pages to flatten them, they gagged a bit. They swallowed down the bile in the back of their throat as they went back to hololight pad. They compared it to a glass-tech board that they'd hung on the wall. It was pretty much the equivalent of a space-age markerboard except it took their scribbles and turned it into legible words. It also translated it, if that needed to happen as well. They pulled out their pulsing multi-light pen and tapped the end until they got to a fluorescent purple. They stood and drew a line between two articles.

"Well, Barty, touching that paper was worth it. I finally found a solid correlation between an old Imperial Law and the current ban on certain 'fair trade' music." The robot cat, despite being made entirely of metal, paused in the licking of her stomach to eye Sawyer. She let out a pixelated yowl before returning to bathing her non-existent fur. The lawyer didn't care, though. They instead turned back to the desk, took a seat again, and gingerly closed the book. It shut with a trembling grunt. "This thing is as old as Imperial rhetoric. One hard sneeze and it'll lose its shit." They chuckled at their joke, the scraping of Bartholomew's metal tongue on her metal body filled the room.

It was about that time the ship shifted hard, and Sawyer fell face-first into their desk. The hololight pad shot off in a different direction, pinging against the wall and sliding across the floor. The glass-tech board was fine, having weathered Sawyer banging it across every archway to get it in their quarters. Bartholomew engaged her magnetic feet to stay in place like real cats did—Sawyer assumed. Most everything could be salvaged and rearranged, even the book. It slid off the table before thudding heavily on the ground. It was entirely intact. Sawyer exhaled, leaning down to grab it. Another twist of the ship, and it collided with Sawyer's face, erupting into thousands of sheets of loose leaf paper—covering them in that horrid sensation.

Sawyer held back the vomit in their throat but knew it would be only a matter of time until their last dinner released itself from one of their stomachs. So, they bolted into the hallway, pages of the book coming after them like a trail of dust. They ran a hand over their shoulders and down their front, their long tail whipping to and fro, shaking the papers around with even more ferocity. They gritted their sharp teeth and oriented themselves toward the helm of the Guernica. Bartholomew trailed after them, having used her magnetic feet to scale the walls and follow them on the ceiling.

They burst into the helm of the ship, not knowing if their pilot was there or not but not caring. If they were yelling at no one, they could just repeat it later. For now, they had to let something out. "I swear to the space dust and the moons abound that you cannot pilot this damn rust bucket." They threw their hands up, their perfectly tailored gold and black suit catching the light and scattering it around in a prismatic fashion. Why they were wearing that to research a case would baffle anyone. They looked more like they were about to attend a business meeting or a very corporate ball. "Are you driving it with your ass?"

𝙏𝘼𝙂(𝙎) @TGM (If Ellisia is there)
𝙇𝙊𝘾𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 The Helm

[User]
Synthetic fingers carried a finely polished leaf spring, gently guiding it home amidst a beautifully oiled piece of machinery. It was the last part to replace for the restoration of an old but still reliable pistol - Old enough to be more of a collector piece than actually used for its original purpose, but it could still get the job done, obviously.

Until something rocked the ship, forcing Maxima's hand forward. The spring was bent from the force, and the finish marred by Maxima's armored nails. Her eyes narrowed in frustration. She gently set down the disassembled pistol, her expression the only thing betraying her anger. "Unforgivable."

Maxima only grabbed two things from her room: Her beloved machine gun and a recent acquisition as a sidearm. Truth be told, the sidearm had no place being used by any normal person: It was designed as an attempt to have the power of a shotgun in the small package of a pistol... With catastrophic results in regard to human wrists. Needless to say, Maxima had wanted an excuse to use it, and scattering little holes in spacesuits seemed like a good use case.

She wasted no time in directing herself to the nearest airlock. Maxima had a bit of a disdain for the vacuum of space - without sound, there was no music, and what was the point? She would simply have to captivate her audience through choreography, instead. Luckily for everyone else, she could still transmit her lovely voice through local communications channels.

"There's never a bad time for a guerilla live show, right? Luckily you've-" Maxima shouldered her automatic rifle. "Got." She depressurized the airlock. "Me~!" She vaulted into the fray as she delivered her last line, her entire body glowing as her shield emitters projected a bright yellow shield of hard light.

A textbook start to a performance: The arrival of the star. Perhaps literally, in this case, as Maxima was a glowing ball of yellow light peeking out from the hull of the ship - she could be mistaken for a sunrise, in her opinion. Maxima's eyes narrowed as she snapped her aim to the nearest pirate, her expression of cheer twisting somewhat with the sudden focus of aiming. Then, of course, the music started.

To Maxima, it was music - Her machine gun was intimately linked to her, as a purpose-designed peripheral. If anything, it was just as much a part of her as a limb. Each time it fired, she received information from her link - weapon temperature, remaining ammo, trajectory estimations... It all came to her as a sixth sense. It was the gun's music - there was no other way she could manage to describe it.

Perhaps the artistry was lost on the enemy she had in her sight: They of course could not hear the music, just feel the hail of bullets that rained upon them. After what they did to her most recent restoration project... That was the least they deserved. It was a simple fact that a star like Maxima would have pushy fans, but luckily she knew how to deal with them. She tracked to the next pirate, but kept aware of the others in case she needed to move. Her shields would likely hold against anything they had, but what was music without dance? She had an image to uphold.

"The performance for these pushy fans who ruined my pistol restoration project is on! Any aboard the Guernica who want to watch the lights are welcome~!" Maxima kept this comm chatter to the crew only.


[System]
Charcters-
Klank - Shipwright 320,000,000
Isaac - Bounty Hunter 530,000,000 ( Sasa 340,000,000)
Sierra - Fighter 380,000,000 (Peanut 380,000,000)
Phin - NPC Fishman 400,000,000

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Age: 31

Race: Human

Devil Fruit/Abilities: Dupe-Dupe Fruit. Klank has the ability to duplicate any object he can physically lift. The smaller the item, the easier it is for him to create multiple versions, and with greater speed.

Weapon: All Tool

 With the hammer doubling as a pair of pliers, the All Tool was created to remedy any problems aboard a ship. The two foot handle is also made with slot compartments that hold various tools for specific sitautions. When they are needed, Klank must simply unfold whatever he needs. A few compartments remain empty until Klank upgrades his masterpiece with tools he may not yet have.

Personality: Klank is a go with the flow kind of character. A trait he adapted after becoming a crew member of the Kraken Pirates,which have been dismantled since crossing the red line. Something else he picked up was temporary bouts of anger. He left his home to get away from the constant work, and being apart of The Krakens didn't REALLY taken him away from that. He doesn't care much for fighting, and when he does partake, his style is what some would call erratic.

Personals: Aside from his All Tool, Klank carries a number of essentials when leaving ship. Around his waist is a dark-brown fanny pack that is connected to a thick leather belt. Sewn into the belt strap are a few itmes; a nail, a nut, a bolt, a screw, and a cigarette. inside the fanny pack is a single beri, and just a few different types of gems that Captain Kraken required him to carry. Strapped to his back is a single wooden plank.

Bio: Klank spent most of his life in loguetown, taking up his fathers trade in ship repair. Needless to say, there was always work for them, and because of that, enjoying festivities was out of the question. One night, a rather obnoxious crew of pirates demanded repairs and left Klank alone to do his work. Hours had passed without the return of these pirates, but he continued to wait in hopes of receiving payment. Walking around the ship, Klank wondered what it must be like to travel the world and just be free to do whatever one wished. In the midst of wandering, he came across the kitchen. He hadn't eaten since work began and figured he'd help himself.

 There was food all around, but a strange fruit was centered on the table. Klank had never seen anything like it. Yellow in color with strange swirls, one half of the fruit perfectly matched the other. He took a single bite, and as nasty as it was, he toughed through it. Never had he eaten something so bad. He threw it away and reconsidered just how hungry he was. Klank returned to the deck and continued waiting for his payment. The pirates never showed.

 The next day was when Klank found out that he could take an item and duplicate it. There was freaking out and lots of confirming the fact that he actually now had this strange ability. He came to terms with it, but kept it hidden until one day a large pirate caught him using it. That pirate was Captain Kraken. He stuck around for a while and observed, not taking long to decide, that with his innate ability as a shipwright, and the power to duplicate objects, Klank was perfect for the crew. Despite concerns from the family, the young adult took the opportunity to chase after a dream he had thought on for long enough.

[User]
A storm raged for as far as Klank could see from his beloved wheel. All the levers were finally reset, more than a few needing to be used in their chaotic escape. The Jubil Pirates, however, were relentless in their pursuit, always showing up just when safety was all but had. It took the combined efforts from each member of The Bigheads to create an opportunity of escape only days ago. Sierra and peanut skated across the thrashing ocean, freezing waves when they reached their peak height. As important as it was to block a quarter of the ships from going further, she was childishly reckless in her actions. Her youthful mind was plagued with the absurd notion that she was invincible. Phin took to the deep sea, creating maelstroms wherever he could. Three ships capsized, but that made no dent in the monstrous fleet. Against Klank's protests, Isaac had slammed a lever by the wheel. The back of the ship opened up to release a mini version of itself, perfect for a two man team, and significantly more mobile. Isaac leaped onto the mini ship and immediately pulled a lever meant to give a wild burst of speed, but not before Captain Bighead himself joined. Klank was left alone, baffled. He grabbed two smokes as the situation demanded, and puffed. With the snap of a lever, the ship drifted to face his fleeting crew. Another lever, much like the one on the mini ship, allowed Klank to close the distance.

 "I suppose it's time to really test your capabilities, baby," Klank said as he glided his hands over the wooden wheel. "Operation..." he pulled another lever. The other rods surrounding him descended into the bowels of the ship, replaced by a set of two levers with three triggers on each. Klank stepped between them as a small contraption secured his feet to the floor. "Evasive Retrieval!"

 ---------

 The sun shown brightly now that The Bigheads were out from the blanket of storm clouds. Though they could still see that storm, they could no longer see the destruction the crew had wrought. After just a few days of suspicion, finally there was time to relax, and that was exactly what Klank was doing, a cigarette in his mouth and a hammer at the ready. The ship took considerable damage in Operation Evasive Retrieval, and Klank realized the kind of fortifications must be made. There were a few cannon holes on the side, but most of the damage came from the ship itself. It would take some time to fully recover the ship, but Klank welcomed it. As he worked on the holes first, hoisted over the edge, Bighead leaned over the rail to look down at the shipwright.

 "Never seen a ship do that," Bighead bellowed.

 "No one has," Klank smirked, still hammering away. "For good reason." He raised his hands as if to show the ship. Shattered wood was hanging all over, and on deck, a mast split down the middle. A sail was torn and sprawled across the deck, and a large gap was created at nose of the ship. Even the ships figure head was blown to pieces. "I anticipated some minor damage, but nothing like this mess." He kept patching the holes.

 "Lotta bang for any ship," Bighead chuckled. "I'm curious," he became serious, but still with a smile. "As a shipwright, knowing what might happen... Why?"

 Klank halted his hammering and took a long drag. The smoke wafted up his face and he replied, "Why would I install an arsenal my ship couldn't handle?" Bighead remained silent as Klank took another drag. "Can't build my dream ship without testing a few extremes." He continued repairs. "The things we've been up against so far are nothing compared to what's to come. It doesn't take someone who's sailed all the seas to realize that. And if I'm gonna sail the entire world, I want a ship that's worthy."

 "Haha!" It was an unusually loud laugh from the Captain. "We're on the same page, Shipwright. When your done with those, join the rest of us. There are discussions to be had."

 "Interesting," Klank wondered. Captain Bighead hadn't called for a meeting before. As soon as he was done, Klank brought himself top deck and approached the others.

 Bighead was serious now. In his hands, he held six sheets of paper, which he began to hand out. They were wanted posters, to which Klank wondered how Bighead acquired. Klank looked at his, an angry face, yelling at whoever looked upon the poster. 320,000,000. His eyes widened, and then he smirked. He never dreamed, that as a simple shipwright, he would gain such a reputation. Sierra and Peanut both held a higher bounty, each at 380,000,000. Phin was indifferent to his 400,000,000. And Isaac smiled the same smile as his poster, for a bounty of 530,000,000. Even Sasayaki had a poster of her own, the number still higher than Klanks at 340,000,000. Klank looked to Bighead, who was standing silent while the rest talked over themselves.

 "What about you?" Klank questioned.

 "Don't know," he smirked slyly. "It's always fluctuating. I'm showing you these, because these bounties paint a," he paused for a moment as he shot a glance at Isaac. "Flashy target on your heads." He gave instruction to Klank to set a course, to which the shipwright complied. "We've racked up quite powerful enemies so far, but what lies behind us is not the problem. The problem is ahead of us. Maybe not anytime soon, but eventually, we will come across Pirates and Marines alike that we are not ready to face. Make no mistake, you're all strong in some way, but not all ways. As Captain, I'm taking us out of the game temporarily."

 "What does that mean?" Sierra interrupted.

 "We're heading for an island nearby, safe for the most part, but well hidden."

 "For what Purpose," Phin was suspicious.

 Bighead smiled his giant smile. "Training."

[Assistant]
"You aren't worthy of using a weapon you cannot overpower."

 The words echoed through Issac's head, knowing they were true. He was reliant on Sasayaki for most things, and the pirate games proved that more than anything. He laid on the deck and looked up at the stars while Klank repaired the ship. "Hey Klank, do you think I could beat you without my weapon?" he asked, but the pirate only glanced over before continuing with the hammering. "I'll take that as a yes, " he yelled, before looking back up. He always a plan, and idea to change the course of battle, but he only really used one of is tools. He was one dimensional, which was necessary to survive, but it would surely hold him back in the future. Sasayaki could be take, lost, or worse, turn on him one day. He had to be better, to keep moving forward; he was a famous pirate/bounty hunter/game breaker/dream crusher now.

-------

 The island that Bighead chose was unusual in many ways, the most of all being the shifting weather throughout the island. The captain left him alone in the fogged forest, while trained Sasayaki's voice and projection through the most obnoxious karaoke even he had heard. The goal was to survive, but Issac wanted more; he wanted to thrive. He took his first steps into the island, letting his other sense guide him, and trusted his instincts.

[User]
The remainder of the trip en route to the island was uneventful. Everyone seemed to unintentionally stick to themselves, and any conversations to be had were brief. Klank wasn't stricken with the same self-judgement as everyone else seemed, mostly because he had this ship to focus on. He thought about the operation that almost destroyed it and was going over the blueprints of his dream ship. How could he change certain things to allow it to withstand such brutal maneuvers. In time, and with more situations to experiment, Klank was sure he would figure it out. The crew docked, and with barely any time to really admire the environment, Bighead lead everyone to their destinations. Klank walked beside Bighead until an open area presented itself. Bighead motioned for him to stop as he kept going. Suddenly, the Captains hand grew to the size of a large boulder. Raising his fist, Bighead let out a shallow grunt, and punched the ground. After the initial shockwave, Klank approached and looked down into the crater.

 "Whoa!" Klank gasped. "I hope you don't expect me to do that."

 "This part of your training doesn't require physical work," to which Bighead motioned for Klank to enter. "Sit." The demand was harsh.

 "So what the hell is this?" Klank sounded irritated and produced a cigarette. It disappeared immediately, and so did the one from in his headband. Bighead was holding both of them. "What the f..."

 "You lack patience," Bighead stated matter of factly. "And these aren't helping."

 "They help just fine you crazy bastard."

 "You're too restless, too angry. Hand over all your tools."

 Klank stared at Bighead for a long moment, thinking hard about what was said on the ship. He complied. "So what am I supposed to do?"

 "You're gonna sit here, in this hole, until I come and get you."

 "And that'll be?"

 "Dunno!" The Captain smiled. "But do your best to stay calm."

 "And what if I decide I'm gonna leave this little crater of yours?"

 With the most serious look Klank had seen yet, Bighead struck with a, "You won't."


[System]
Game Origin: Ace Attorney

Appearance: "Objection!"

Personality: Phoenix is calm, cool, and collected, an easy-going guy who likes to roll with the punches life deals him and go with the flow. Or, rather, he'd like to be that. In low-stress situations Phoenix is as relaxed as he seems, his guard a bit too down and a tad gullible, though when the stakes get raised or he comes to task, any semblance of 'chill' quickly leaves him. While this does mean that he's fairly reliable once things get serious, it also drives him to bouts of internal panic and impulsiveness. His natural cleverness and sharp intellect tends to make any quick judgement the right call eventually, however, and despite his seeming immaturity in most situations, Phoenix is capable of stunning feats of competence and intelligence! Even when he bluffs his way through everything...

Background: It might not seem like much just by looking at him, but Phoenix has gone through quite a lot. Everything started when he was a young kid, a day in elementary school when his entire class labeled him a thief after a fellow student's lunch money went missing. At the time, he felt utterly alone, at the mercy of a group who would never believe him... And then the very same student whose money was taken came to his side in defense, one Miles Edgeworth. The two were quick to become friends.

Miles soon left school, him and Phoenix growing apart. As he grew older, Phoenix took an interest in law and the arts, and during his time at college (studying for the latter), he once more ended up accused of a crime he didn't commit: murder. He was defended once more, this time by rookie attorney Mia Fey, and from then on the young Phoenix grew a passion for being an attorney just like her, and soon became her apprentice. The time came when Phoenix, a newly-minted lawyer, went to court, where he met his long-gone friend Miles Edgeworth, a prosecutor now, unlike his defense attorney father. After his first trial, Mia was killed, and her younger sister, Maya Fey, was the suspect. Phoenix defended her, of course, and the two grew a liking to each other, becoming partners in (un)crime.

As Phoenix waged legal war against Edgeworth, the two traded blows both in and out of court, with Phoenix wanting his friend to return to his normal, justice-seeking self. Things took a turn for the dramatic when Edgeworth himself was accused for murder - the murder of his late father! - and Phoenix defended him, exonerating him of his crimes and guilt.

His reputation made, and strengthening as he took bigger cases and went up against harsher prosecutors, Phoenix was on the rise to become an incredibly successful attorney. And just before the trial that would have dashed his career on the rocks, things got a lot brighter...

---

Specialty: Tactics, figuring things, people, opponents out. And, uhm... moral support?
Level: 1
Experience: 0/10
Powers:
* Psyche-Locks: Phoenix possesses the power to see Psyche-Locks, a psychic manifestation of a person's lies, taking the form of chains and locks. The more a person has, the closer the secret is being kept, or the harder the person is trying to keep it. They break as Phoenix delves closer to the root, though the act of breaking them doesn't force the person to spill - rather, it's just a representation of how tight-lipped they are. They only appear in response to a question Phoenix asks, too, and depending on how he words the question, could not appear at all.

Strengths:
* Sharp Wit: His time as an attorney has left Phoenix with a very sharp head, metaphorically speaking. He's quick to catch on and notice things others miss, and his sense of deductive reasoning is unmatched.
* Bluff: Flying by the seat of his pants more often than not, Phoenix has an impeccable poker face. Sudden shocks, surprises, and etc still make him react - he is human after all - but it can be pretty hard to tell what he's thinking, especially if he doesn't even know it himself.
* Born Lucky: It seems that along with his stunning spiky hair, Phoenix was gifted with immense luck at birth! It isn't the "find 50 bucks on the ground" kind of luck, but things tend to fall into place for him, or seemingly fatal accidents and injuries could leave him with little more than a scratch.

Weaknesses:
* Only Human: For all his quirks and lucky breaks, Phoenix is just human after all. He's not particularly strong or sturdy, incapable of anything truly impressive, and can go down in just a few solid hits. He's not much of a fighter!

Spirits:

Kindred Spirits:
* Maya Fey, a young spirit medium who is Phoenix's closest friend and trusted partner.
* Hershel Layton, a professor with a penchant for puzzles, and an avid pointer himself.
* Sissel, a mysterious ghost of a man - literally - who uses his powers to similarly change the fates of the innocent.

Inventory:
* Attorney's Badge: Proof of his status as an attorney, and symbolic of what it means to be one. Loves to show it off, though usually by accident.
* Magatama: A special stone ornament imbued with spiritual power. It allows Phoenix to see the Psyche-Locks, though anyone who holds it can see them as well. May or may not be needed anymore.

[User]
Geralt of Rivia
Ancestral Farmstead
Lvl 3 (12/30) -> Lvl 3 (28/30) -> Lvl 4 (0/40)
Word Count: 778 words
Stress Level: 10

Something changed just as the Courier's stimpak took effect on Geralt. It was...hard to describe. Something not unlike coming out of a magical trance, but without as much of the hangover half-blackout feeling. More like coming down from a light alcohol buzz. His mind felt sharper, and his body felt like it was his again. Hell of a drug. Almost like he mixed Swallow and Thunderbolt...speaking of which, I need that damned potion if I'm gonna be dealing with beasts like this! Geralt thought, completely unaware of the true reason he felt this way now. He'd probably learn soon enough, though.

Taking a deep breath as his body was mended and his mind unclouded, Geralt took a look around at the battlefield. So many spirits laying around, and so many fighters still standing. All of them, in fact. It was practically a miracle. Regular folk just didn't last around him in big fights like this, whether they were on his side or not. But then again, he hadn't left alongside many regular folk, had he? These people were fighters, killers, warriors, almost to the last one of 'em. Even the kids could fight like hell. It would have been unnerving had he not seen dozens of pimple-faced teens take to bandrity back on the Continent. Kids could fight. Usually not well, but they could fight.

Stepping away from their main quarry to gather a few of the farmhands' spirits, Geralt called out after the Courier spoke. "Hmm, wonder how that'd work with Igni...Cadet, was it? You need that thing for anything?" He asked the Ace Cadet, silently hoping he could walk out of this with something, at least. He wasn't totally sure how these spirits worked, not down to the letter, but he did notice that Linkle had left a trail of ice, and he was pretty damn sure she couldn't do that before. That kind of power....those things were like mutagens. And while he wasn't exactly eager to experiment with these things, he knew how much of a difference the right mutagen could make in a fight. The difference between life and death.

The big guy and his friends were gathering up, too, Geralt noticed, after Bowser broke off from the fight to protect his son. It was sweet, in a way. He'd dealt with enough monsters to know that plenty of them were just like humans, even if their bodies weren't. Hell, when he first met Emhyr at that damned betrothal, the man looked like some kind of hedgehog! If only he'd stayed that ugly....

Still, it was good to see everybody alive and well, if a bit shaken and wounded. They'd be able to head back to the town, lick their wounds, and maybe Mina would have something good for them in the morning. If only the Brachydios had left something to cook....though the Witcher wondered how good giant lizard-monster meat would taste. How would you even prepare it?
____________________________________________________________________________

As everybody gathered back into their transportation to return to Lumbridge, Geralt quietly meditated. It was a good way to keep his body somewhat rested, as well as his mind. His breathing was slow, as was his heartbeat. To the casual observer who didn't know better, he might very well have died sitting in this position and just...stuck that way.

Linkle's question to Euden caught his ear, and Geralt's eyes opened ever so slightly, the red replaced with an amber. Perhaps ironically, removing Galeem's influence had made his eyes look even less human, rather than more.

He was interested in how Euden controlled that kind of magic, however. It was impressive, to say the least. That level of raw power, even if he was only able to unleash it for short periods of time, spoke volumes about the boy. He could go far like that. Protect people. Or kill them in droves. It was all up to him, really.

Another thing that had interested him was the Courier's weapons. They made explosions like a bomb, but....they didn't explode? He saw the bright flashes from the end of the weapon as it ripped apart the Brachydios's neck, so it did something, but he wasn't sure what. Was it like a crossbow that launched something with an explosion? That sounded insane, like letting a grapeshot bomb going off in his hand! How it didn't blow the lunatic to pieces was another mystery.

Still, he couldn't argue with the results. He'd have to ask the man about how they worked at some point. But later. Right now he was tired, and he wanted to at least get some rest while they made their way back.

[Assistant]
Death
Level 1 - (4/10)
Location: Dead Zone - Redgraccon Police Department
Word Count: 220

---

Death, upon speaking to the group, immediately had more than a few weapons pointed his way. He wasn't fazed by this, however. Should have known they would all be on edge given the current situation. Just then, an older looking man stepped forward and claimed to be the one in charge. The Reaper was about to speak again when the stranger he came in with revealed himself, much to everyone's surprise. It seems this man was telling the truth before and he really can come back from the dead. Death was a little curious as he had never met someone who could come back to life before and took note.

Once the surprise had died down a bit, Death was again spoken to by the leader of the group. The Horseman was then informed about the killer's abilities and told that a few others were already dealing with the ghost that keeps them trapped in this building. Death figured the killer was the more immediate threat at the moment. Apparently there were also another two from the group that looked to stop this killer as well, which he would assist them in. Giving a small nod to Howard, Death them moved off in the direction that Ratchet and his medic had gone in an attempt to catch up to them.

[User]
Blazermate

Level 6 - (2/60) EXP +1
Location: Police Station
Word Count: 382

Blazermate was ready to go with Ratchet to find the serial killer, when she could hear the horde getting close to the police station. "You and Ratchet are good fighters right? I think I need to deal with that horde more than anything. Be safe~." Blazermate said, hopping off Ratchet and making her way towards the sound of the horde outside of the station.

She missed Joker as he left to assist the ritual, but she did run into Death. Something felt... familiar about him, but there wasn't much to think about with that as the approaching hordes were more of a concern. With a wave to V, Blazermate said. "I'll buy us some time with that horde. Hopefully we can get this spirit thing fixed and teleport out of here before my distraction ends." Saying that, she then remebered the teleporter wasn't anywhere nearby. Facepalming a bit, she summoned Dell, telling him to destroy the teleporter side here in the Dead Zone and remake it. The texan man shrugged and got to work. With that all straightened out, Blazermate moved through the station to find a good vantage point to command the hordes.

Eventually she made her way to the wing where the noise from the horde was the greatest, the room where Jak and Daxter were helping out the civvies alongside some of the other survivors. Most everyone here looked no worse for wear, minus the obvious panic behind Daxter and the foreboding air of everyone, as if this was the biggest horde yet to attack them. Making her way to a window, Blazermate looked outside to view the horde. Yep, it looked like it sounded, a huge bunch of various zombies, demons, and everything. She doubted they could all take this, even with her command over the undead, considering the various menagerie of evil around them.

"Well... I think I can hold them off a bit." Blazermate said. With a few directions from her suffering arm, mostly "attack anything next to you who doesn't follow this order and protect the station" those in the horde that would listen to her commands started to attack the ones who didn't, causing a vast amount of chaos within the amassing hordes ranks. "That should buy us more time. Hopefully the others can get that ghost banished or whatever so we can get out of here." Blazermate said, nodding at her work.

[Assistant]
He had the feeling someone was staring at him, sure. And Germ was obviously looking this way every time Phoenix looked around the diner. But that didn't mean that he was being watched. No, of course not.

(I think Pat is starting to rub off on me. I need to start hanging around better influences.)

Then, as if the universe loved proving Phoenix's inner monologues wrong, the bird-man who had been looking at him suddenly popped over the back of his chair. Phoenix nearly choked on his milkshake, and man would that have been embarrassing.

"I-I, ghak, what?!" Phoenix leaned away from Germ as if he was an actual germ. He even slid his shake further away, as if the bird would try and steal it. Is that what a day of being paranoia-adjacent does to people? Make them actual paranoid?

Steeling his nerves, Phoenix settled, shifting his seat a bit to the side so he wasn't stabbing Germ in the face... beak?... with his hair. "Erhm, right. A case." Phoenix paused. Why was he so willing to tell some stranger about one of his cases? Didn't that break some, like, client/attorney protocol? He might've just been wanting to have a normal conversation for the day, one that didn't involve government conspiracies. Or fish. Or fish conspiracies.

Clearing his throat, Phoenix filled the silence. "Well, uh, this one time I had a client whose case against them was about how he could fly, and how nobody could've committed the crime without...flying." (Oh, now I know why lawyers don't discuss their cases. It makes them sound crazy.)


[System]
Age:
43

Sex:
Male

Race:
Human

Appearance:

Being a foreigner from more northern lands, Otto is in fact paler than that which would be common in the region, contrasting with the dark colors of hair, kept clean, which makes for his extravagant beard and hair. He is not a tall man, standing at a mere 5'7", roughly 170 cm, as well as boasting a slender and often remarked as frail body. Granted, no he is not extremely skinny, but he could use a few more pounds. As for wardrobe, he tends to wear darker colors despite the current fashion of the region where "color is everything," sometimes he can be found with a linen shirt on and some trousers.

Personality:
An outwardly calm and collected man, it seems that this man is infinitely patient which is somewhat of a requirement for his job. Displaying emotion, to him, is unmanning and is something only a woman should do, among other things. Inwardly, however, he is a greedy man who will do many things if faced with a large amount of wealth.

Biography:
Otto hails from more northern lands where the climate is much more temperate than where Venara is situated. He grew up with high expectations from his father to become a proper learned man and become a nobleman. Sadly, Otto had become a doctor instead, wanting to help people out of the kindness of his heart, perhaps it was because doctors actually made a decent amount of money, who knows. The foreigner was a skilled man in his craft, helping many people from his lands.

However, Otto seemed to suddenly lose his touch at a period of time where he lost many noble patients who had requested his care. Patient after patient, death upon death. Even better is he found himself with more wealth upon the death of those patients. If one were to ask him how he felt about the deaths of those, he would say he did not feel much in the ways of their deaths. After the death of a nobleman, he had to flee his home country to go to Venara where he met Leon Delorano after helping to treat one of his sicknesses and soon found him employed under him.

Years later the death of Leon's wife came over the family, he would say it affected him deeply but he would hardly express his concerns. The same with the death of Eduardo Perfori. He remained the Head Healer of the house doing his best to offer advice to the grieving ones while he continued to operate as normal as ever. Soon, Leon had died, this death truly affected him, and he began grieving for many weeks for his fallen friend.

Position In House Delorano: Head Healer

Equipment:
* Cane
* Stiletto
* Black Coat
* A small pouch of money

Skills: Human, +1 to choice skill (Grace)
Gifted: +4 Grace, +4 Reputation
Above Average: +3 Brawling, +3 Acumen, +3 Skullduggery
Deficient: -2 Dueling, -2 Gunnery

[User]
Lips curling at the sight of little Juniper causing trouble. Pieter had to admit, he would have thought that all the lessons he had offered her in subterfuge and skulduggery would have taught her the value of keeping your cards to your chest. But lo, here she is, not even to Pieter's chin and daring to try and incite a civil war inside the House. Perhaps once she learnt to let go of grudges, she could become a successful player in Venaran politics. Then again, maybe she needed to get better at holding grudges.

Chuckling slightly to himself, Pieter took another sip of his rosé. This was excellent. Gods above, he would love to spend an evening with a few bottles of th
is and maybe that sweet young actress he had seen performing at the Hierophant Theatre. Goddesses, what was her name? She had the excellent bosom, and that lovely dimple. She had actually known all of her lines while performing The Ruin of Fortinbras, which is rare indeed, since most of those pretty girls who took to the stage had more tits than smarts, and come to think of it it's very likely that Livia, ha! Livia! That's her name, anyway it's very likely that Livia would only be a year or two older than Juniper, and wasn't that a thought? Goddess around, that chill must be what a father feels. Disgusting. Let it be gone, there's no need of that. but given how much is going to be changing around here it might be prudent to start cutting back on dalliances- who knows how many will be on someone else's payroll? It's not that wild a thought, it was done in one of the operas a while back, now that was a fucking excellent piece of work. So were the legs on that soprano. And that baritone had that alluringly snug doublet. Perhaps it would be smart to commission a play venerating Leon. Perhaps a retelling of one of those great Elven Journey Plays. Tie it in to the coming greatness of the House Delor-

A crack.

That was a fucking gunshot.

And there's a blur just outside of the balcony.

FUCK.

Scraping his chair roughly against the floor, Pieter jackknifed up standing, fumbling with his pistol as he pointed it towards the balcony. Otto shouting something unintelligible per the norm, Meldyr, the brave man ordering his men into defensive positions.

Pieter listened to the masked figure talk. Interesting, if what they said was true. Pieter lowered his gun. All aiming it did was make the fellow more likely to strike. But....

"Why are you here?"

[Assistant]
Lorenzo and Fiona Delorano

---

Fiona watched her son as he entered the room with the eyes of a proud parent basking in the success of a child as well as the eyes of a lioness watching her growing son. His mannerisms and accomplishments in his knowledge and abilities were evident those paying attention. As Lorenzo shook hands with his friends and comrades, Nalia made her announcement of Lorenzos new position and seat in the hall which took many for a surprise including Lorenzo whose face lit up slightly at his name being spoken in such honor. When he took his place next to his mother, Fiona caught his eye and smiled gently at him her eyes screaming with victory behind the fading tears and then returning her expression to normal as she faced to group once again. Watching the drama unfold under the Delorano roof as she sipped from the edge of her wine glass with all the grace of a noble lady.

She was no longer surprised or shocked by Luciens childish temper tantrums though now, she was almost gracious towards them due to their influence in the advancements of her sons position.

Fionas eyes found Junipers in cold content at her outburst during the summoning of her brother to honor him in a wake. The scorn was apparent to anyone watching and the disapproval was evident. Had Otto and Nalia not spoken first, she would no doubt have stood and spoken, instead she rose a glass of deep red wine to Nalia in honor of what she said and how she spoke then took a sip upon the conclusion of her speech. Fionas eyes no longer bore evidence to her distress and sadness towards her brothers death, they were instead filled with calm disdain, mixed with a solemn kindness that was known to others as her neutral expression.

As Juniper stood and came around the table, speaking words of apology, Lorenzos face immediately fell into a soft smile he nodded at her understandingly and sympathetically, "I understand cousin." his voice was compassionate and warm as it often was. "By my honor, my fathers honor and the honor of my beloved uncle and second father, I will never disgrace them or give them any reason to believe their decision was not a sound one. They are wise and noble." Lorenzo's voice showed no evidence of mockery or sarcasm, his words were genuine and honest. When Fionas eyes met Junipers she simply nodded approvingly before turning to face the room again.

The crack of the gunshot disturbed the subtle murmurings of the gathered group. Lorenzo stood instantly, hand on the hilt of his sword ready to draw it at any moment. Fiona did not stand but she did shift her eyes towards the balcony where the doors rattled then opened emerging The Crow from the shifting air. The others spoke singularly and all at once, Lorenzo's sword now being drawn from it's sheath before Fiona's hand lifted and touched Lorenzo's arm with her fingertips. Lorenzo looked at her with a small face of confusion as to why she had stopped him.

Fiona rose from her seat with elegance and walked towards the balcony door, walking past the other members of the house and standing in front of them towards the uninvited guest. "Crow, why have you come here? If I remember from our last encounter you were told to never appear unless called upon. Was I unclear at the conclusion of our last engagement on this matter?" Her eyes watched the crows firmly and unmoving. Disapproval and scorn marked her face as she spoke to the man she seemingly had known for quite some time. "Speak!" Her deep, noble voice was loud and demanding her fingers were laced together and draped low in front of her waste standing still, her beautiful eyes and face marking him for death should he fail to comply with her demands.

Lorenzo's eyes shifted from his mother to the crow unsure of how or why there had ever been an alliance between the two, unsure of how they met, or when, or for what purpose. He made his way as well and stood somewhat behind but next to his mother his hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword in case of a scuffle.

[User]
---

 Considering the ruckus and the reaction of everyone else, Nalia let out a sigh and slowly stood up from her chair to face the being who had walked in. She looked almost bored, but her eyes were narrowed as she listened to the words than rang from behind the mask. "If you have come to pay your respects you should have come through the front door," she told the man calmly, her arms crossed over her chest as she felt like she had nothing to worry about, not yet at least, "Though if you took care of a potential assassin I guess I have to thank you for dispatching him. Now, who are you exactly and what was your relation to my late Father?"

 Unfolding her arms, her left hand went to the hilt of the rapier she always had at her hip, though she did not close her fingers around it as she did not want the figure to think that she was going to take. Ready to attack? Yes, always... but she wasn't about to, not yet and much like her father told her with fire arms, don't put your finger on the trigger unless you are willing to kill. At the immediate moment she wanted to know what the being wanted, because those who wished to pay their respects rarely decided to crawl in through a window. "And to answer your question old man, you can take my sister to her quarters and secure the two of you there for now, take three of the guards," she directed the doctor, displeasure in her voice for the man having went to her brother rather than herself though she never took her eyes off the cloaked figure.

 "And you my dear Aunt... you have some explaining to do if you know this being that has entered the hall without proper leave," bright blue eyes shot to her Aunt, the displeasure in her voice turning to anger in her eyes, she was getting sick and tired of people keeping secrets from her that could very well pain members of the house in a bad light. If her Aunt had an assassin on her belt, this was something her father should have known about, and at the very least left a notation about for his successor.

---

[Assistant]
The Crow

The figure stood stalk still as swords, muskets, and threats were leveled at them. The mask hid any reaction the uninvited assassin might have had to the number of questions leveled at it. The Crow kept its hands well away from the weapons it was carrying and just folded them in front of itself, keeping them in plain view. Now was not the time to start a gunfight. The Mask turned when Nalia spoke to The Crow, the black pits of the silver mask centering on the new head of house.

"If I came in through the front door as I am I would be apprehended and then you would know who I am. If I came without the uniform, I would have been ignored unless I revealed myself. I had not planned on making such an entrance. Someone detected me as I was arriving and sent cat's paws after me. Not proper guards, mind you. I suspect it was your master of spies given the men who tried to stop me." The Crow tilted its head to the side as a gesture instead of moving its hands to point. "I am sorry to inform you that one of them fell to lady Fiona's balcony and is likely quite hurt. The other will be fine, maybe a little bruised. after I had been shot at I had no choice but to enter to avoid any further casualties. I didn't come through the balcony on a whim, Matriarch Nalia. As for who exactly I am, I am The Crow, that will have to suffice unless you intend to kill me and pull my mask off. My relationship to your father was, complicated. It would be hard to explain and I am not interested in telling you at this time. Perhaps when I am not surrounded by guards and unimportant parties."

The Crow turned its masked face and locked Lady Fiona in its eyeless stare now, "Lady Fiona, you did tell me not to return after our business was done. I regret to inform you, I did not intend to return to you unless someone wanted you dead. These circumstances go beyond simple contracts though. I came here of my own accord, no one is paying me to inform you about what the captured assassin said, nor are they paying me to suffer your delusions of having any measure of control over me." the last part was a hiss of disdain. While the assassin never gave any physical signs of anger, its voice clearly portrayed its dislike for being spoken to as an inferior by Fiona.

The dark pits of The Crow's mask passed over the rest of the room. No words for them. The Crow thought they were all very unimportant in the grand scheme of things.The assassin judged each of them in turn, its mind processing and dismissing them in turn; the doctor was a failure and a murderer; the younger brother a foolhardy boy who would get himself killed in the courts; the former noble guard captain was just another body to take a bullet; the cousin and son to Fiona was an easy target with less sense than the women he bedded; and the musician and spy pretended at being important enough and that would lead him down to ruin. The Crow's gaze stopped on Juniper, she was different. Always sneaking about. If she could get her emotions under control she would a force. The Crow inclined its head slightly at the young girl, a small nodd and show of respect for the young girl.

[User]
Otto gazed at Nalia for a moment, contemplating on whether or not he should comply with her order or not. Naturally, he refused to obey the orders of her, it would not be a man's place to retreat while such a threatening figure stood before them. "As much as you would love for me to disappear, I shan't," the old man grumbled, his eyes returning to the assassin as he spoke with his gruff voice. How would he look if he retreated from the situation, certainly it would damage his reputation as a member of the family. Thusly, he would have to stay even if he openly defied the new leader of the house.

When the assassin looked down at Juniper, Otto took a threatening step forward ready to attack if this being attempted to make a move on someone he had helped to deliver. He wielded his cane in both hands, seemingly ready to charge should he need to. The foreigner spoke in a bit aggravated tone, "While, sir or madam, I respect that you dealt with those assassins for us, barging in here as you did certainly did not alleviate the situation one bit." Hoping that the Crow did not call his bluff on attacking, Otto kept his face stern, attempting to hide fear. "I would kindly ask you to leave, as your presence is not particularly trusted here," Otto ordered, daring to take another small step towards the Crow.


[System]
Codename: Arsenal

Color Scheme: 4a3074 4b5d6a

Age: Mid twenties

Gender: Female

Personality:

• Kleptic
• Obsessive
• Indifferent
• Arrogant
• Unrelenting
• Vicious

Rui-Hai was an individual of reasonable talent that fell off the beaten track. Born a 'Natural,' she found a particular aptitude for her brand of magic early in her story. Using her talents as a gateway, lured by the glamor of academy life, she started her career as a student of the Thremont institutions.

The complacency of research and remaining stationary in a single place never found themselves compatible with her however, and as her talents and experience grew, she found herself drifting farther and farther away from the life of an academic. Instead, she found her stride as a hired gun, freelancing for any organization that she found to her liking or was fighting against an enemy that roused her interest, fueling her lust for adrenaline. All along the way, she would find reason to expand her inventory.

Working discreetly, she eventually found herself working heavily with a surprisingly unrelated sort of organization: elements of Courtlandt Holdings. In retrospect, it would seem obvious that certain companies would have more skeletons in the closet than others, but her jobs paid well but were infinitely boring. When she was offered the job as acting as a glorified security guard, she nearly broke off the relationship on the spot. With much persuasion, however, she was persuaded to take the job, finding herself with the mundane duty of protecting research facility.

It was there that she encountered her first nightmare. In the ensuing battle that followed, she met her match, nearly demolishing herself and the facility along with the monster in a last-ditch artillery barrage. Her relationship with Courtlandt ceased soon after, but by then, she'd already found a new job.

The cleaners.

Magic Style:

Fold

Rui-Hai focuses heavily on a specialized area of magic that at its core, is neither offensive nor defensive in nature. A more esoteric spell in nature, she folds space itself to create small portals to other locations, enabling her to store and quickly retrieve a large arsenal of weaponry for use on the fly. At long distances, she can only pass inanimate, non-biological objects, but at short ranges of roughly ten meters, she can essentially teleport at will.

Signals, such as radio, readily pass through an open portal, enabling her to use a wireless trigger to operate her larger and more stationary weapons.

Membership: Medium; about one year on the job.

Equipment:

Considering Ney's skillset, the equipment section is more of signature selection of the collection she owns and carries.

Heavyware Standard Pistol Mk. 3 – A lightweight handgun. Small, compact, reliable, and easy to reload. Only has ten rounds per reload, but Ney never has less than enough ammo to supply a platoon.

Heavyware Vulcan X-2 – Specialized laser gatling cannon. Quiet for its type. An older model, it requires more energy and can fire continuously for seven seconds before overheating.

Heavyware QF750 Mk. 2 Field Howitzer – Rui-Hai's crown jewel, a 155mm towed artillery piece. Considered a last resort or used in a display of superiority, she has two in her inventory. Normally requiring a crew of three to operate, like most of her more heavy weaponry, the gun is setup beforehand, and in this case, near impossible to reload in combat. Can interface with and be fed targeting data with any Courtlandt Electronics telemetry system, and be prepped beforehand with mission specific shells, including HE, AP, and illumination.

Grenades – More.

Relationships:
Character Impressions:
(Shit I'll do in the morning)

Theme Song:

[User]
Diva nodded at the various questions and answers. This was one hell of a spook, whatever it was. Invisible, fast, kills anyone when nobody's looking, and so-on. She beamed proudly at the mention by name. "I can force it to manifest, if there's even anything there to get." If it wasn't the Nightmare proper out and about, it wouldn't likely do anything. "Sounds like we also want to be sure we keep a buddy at all times for this one."

She looked around at the others. "Hopefully we won't have to fight this thing, but just in case, I'll do what I can. I might need someone to keep an eye on me, though." Not that she wouldn't be doing the same for them.

At the urging to get a move-on, she filed back to End's van with the others. As before, she was more than willing to try and strike up a conversation, once safely inside. "So, I don't think I'll be that good for talking our way past any mobster types," she said, simply. It wasn't the area of expertise one would expect for a teenager, anyway. She had enough trouble negotiating the ins and outs of her school; the shady underbelly of a city like Neo Babylon was far beyond her.

"Since this thing manifests as wind or something, should we codename it something like 'Kamaitachi'," she asked at some point, suggesting a nickname for their monster. It would probably be easier to discuss if they had something to use for reference. She didn't really have many other productive things to say on the rest of the trip down into the undercity. And when it came to actually talking their way past the security, she remained silent. Not her area of expertise.

[Assistant]
A hitman using that symbol for their own needs? Yeah, this was definitely a case that Josephine was going to have to get into now. No way she was allowing some new face with a fancy weapon cut into her own profits just like that. That being said, Cash's statements did make her wonder. If there was such a powerful 'spell' around, how on earth did it get lost the first place? Maybe a more powerful mage could automatically defend against this ethereal nightmare's attacks, but one could practically eviscerate any enemy as long as they had an idea of where they were. It'd be like just accidentally forgetting that you had a tactical nuke launcher.

She furrowed her brows, but speculation wasn't going to get anywhere. They were going to head over to the Wirefort's lair first, after all, knock on the doors of all the rival mobs that had it out for the Himuras. Getting into her armored van once more, taking the time to take the Railrifle out of her violin case and making sure she had a full mag, Josephine drove off the moment she heard the passengers in her van put on their seatbelts. If they had to ram through a car or two to get there, it'd be a pain if Diva cracked open her skull, after all.

"Kamaitachi?" she repeated as she navigated through the messy network of mid-level streets, "Four syllables is too much. Let's go with 'Reaper'."

Reaper sounded cooler than some gibberish language, after all.

Rolling to a stop as a group of armed thugs showed up, with their assortment of SMGs and handguns, her red-ringed eyes flickered over to their weapons for a couple of moments, before smiling. They were using Courtlandt Ophelia 3-17s? She used to love that, if only because those weapons became dirt cheap once Courtlandt gave up on trying to get into the weapon's market and just went full liquidation mode. She motioned for Honoka to stay in the car, before walking out. To no one's surprise, Blitz had gotten there first, and was already trying to peddle some heavier arms.

Josephine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Typical Blitz, having no idea at all about cost-efficiency. SMGs and handguns, even shitty ones made by Courtlandt Holdings, were already enough to kill men who only really had access to strength-boosting Underarmor. And if handguns and high-calibre assault rifles could both provide the same thing, why on earth would they switch it up? So some greedy death-merchant could make more money?

"Better off peddling power armor to their rivals first, if you want to convince them to up their offensive options," Josephine muttered under her breath, before approaching, standing a step or so behind and beside the flight-armored fellow.

If this was going to turn into a gun fight, she'd like to have a shield in place, even if only for a couple of seconds.

"If Don Miggerton asks, this is about the weapon used to mess up the Himuras."

Blitz was a weapons guy, after all. Hopefully they could put two and two correctly and make their own assumptions from there.

[User]
Well it was certainly good that only one person had access to this. The carnage the mark wielders could wreak if they simply wanted to cause chaos was immense. Massacring entire skyscrapers, civic buildings, the entirety of the Thremont lord's school she had attended, the possibilities were endless and terrifying. The question was, and she should probably thought of the question before she was half way between Cash's residence and Wirefort, was whether the sources in Cash's notebook could have been found by others researching the incident as well. Obviously Cash had knowledge of the existence of nightmares was an advantage in his research but someone could potentially find this out now that the symbol and incident existed to provide a starting point.

As with before Advent was falling behind, though now that they were in the darker bits of the city she had the luxury of using one of her seekers to keep track of the others and find her shortcuts. With how bad the traffic was her lower to speed was made up with the ability to take side streets and weave recklessly through through traffic. Apart from one instance where she had to use the seeker to scare off a bunch of muggers in a dark ally the tactic was successful in letting here keep up.

It was through that seeker, currently hugging a shadow on the side of one of the buildings, that she heard the conversation as she caught up with the two vehicle convoy. She had pulled the gas mask over her face before arriving on the scene as a vague attempt to protect her identity, a habit from back when she was doing the run for info at the Necronomicon. Hopping of the bike a little distance away and calmly wheeling the it towards them in an nonthreatening manner. Arriving just as End gave her muttered comment

As someone who had invented the art biological firearms basically from scratch advent felt that what Blitz was selling was better odds of actually hitting the target. Just chucking projectiles out as the overly complex Courtlandt Holdings SMGs did was not the right way to make a weapon for someone who could aim. Then again it was unlikely those goons could aim, but at this range it would hardly matter. She tired her best to ignore the varicose small arms pointed their way.

"Bigger is better if you want to actually hit something though."

She muttered to End through the mask. Then she leaned against the side of the armored vehicle while the arms dealer and the assassin did their vague negotiate strategy. Personally she would have just told them they were here to do some information brokering, but she did not exactly look like someone worth talking to in her field medic getup. Not that Painstalkers exactly had a look per say, but putting on a street magic performance to prove she was the real deal was more trouble than it was worth.

"You all doing alright in End's metal box?"

She asked End's passengers, trying to take her own and their minds of the danger. All they could do was wait to see how the thugs reacted. Her various minions where stationed around the nearby sewer exits in case taht reaction was to start shooting.

[Assistant]
The revelations about this particular Nightmare's nature disturbed Jiangli. He never particularly liked dealing with the more esoteric varieties of Nightmare such as this one. Something like this being weaponized by malicious parties definitely should have attracted Prohibitum attention if they ever caught wind of it, but it seemed that the Cleaners had heard first. Likely for the better, all things considered. Still, if they failed here, Sanctum would have to be notified. Perhaps the threat of this Nightmare being utilizied by Painstakers would get the Prohibitum off of their asses.

Either way, Runner geared up into his armor before they left Cash's residence, clipping his pistol and sword onto his side as he clambered into an available van.

As the group of Cleaners were stopped by a crew of thugs, Runner stayed silent in the back, letting Blitz and End handle the negotiations. As a former Agent, he was out of his depth dealing with the mundane criminal element. Instead, he let one hand fall down to the pistol clipped to his side, letting it rest there for now.

[User]
Arsenal simply shrugged. They were probably right to give caution to tests like that. She was totally fine with them as long as she wasn't anywhere near it, of course. But like a few other of her fellow Cleaners, she saw an immediate need for that phenomenon to be gone, Nightmare or not. With Cash having explained much of what he knew, there was little use in asking further questions, so she had no objections to moving on.

"What kind of shit edgy name is that, End?" Lazily on her mobile device, Rui-Hai disagreed with Josephine as she drove them back across town towards the Wirefort compound. Looking out the bulletproof windows of the armored personnel carrier for the rest of the trip, her interest was only aroused again at the sight of armed men approaching their vehicle as they approached the Wirefort's manor.

Like everybody who was worth their salt in the business, Rui-Hai was well acquainted with both the Himuras and the Wireforts. She had, however, never dealt directly with the latter organization, so with End and Blitz filing out of the vehicle to greet their welcoming committee, Arsenal felt quite comfortable sitting within the confines of the armored car. But even then, she still wanted to get a piece of the action and listen in on the negotiations, so she jumped off her seat and climbed onto the ledge on the center of the vehicle, wrestling open the port on the top of the roof normally reserved for a machine gun mount. Climbing onto the empty mount, she stuck her head out of the vehicle, crossing her arms.

If there was any conflict to be had, what better place would there be to fire overwhelming firepower from?