[System]
Nickname
Micah

Birthday
November 7th

Age
29

Formula and Sexuality
Uke II Heterosexual turned bisexual

Goal
Be able to support his son and give him the life he deserves. To be able to connect with his true "family" again.

Family
(Third person POV from his father's perspective)
The Winter Family is known for being one of the most prestigious families of Willow Valley. They only had one boy they named Mikaela after the boy's great grandfather. His father never really approved of him, and did everything to kick that unpredictable imagination out of him and groom him into the successor he was meant to be. During middle school, this behavior got worse, his son was mixing up fantasy and reality. Thinking that these would be his last free years, his father let him be on his own.

Once Mikaela arrived in high school, work was to be done. He had private tutors that would make him work all the hours of the night after school. He was always made to be in the top three places in school. Someone was influencing the successor, his grades were dropping drastically, he would shut himself into his room after school. He came home one day with cuts all over his face... His father immediately sent him to a boarding school. His heir would not be so weak! After two years of schooling, Mikaela pleaded with his father to let him come home, be with his mother who was having arthritis, gaining the proper social skills of an adult. Mikaela was allowed to go to a public college.

There he met Emily, his forbidden love. His father tried to reason with his successor, the vixen was praying on his weak son. Finally, his father threw him out, disowning him.

Once his wife was out of the picture. Mikaela's father did reach out a hand to his dreadful son, saying he would forget the past and adopt Luke, but Mikaela refused.

Marriage/Love
During college, Mikaela met a girl named Emily that was his only hope in the world. His angel was just a normal college girl that could never be accepted by his parents. Mikaela was disowned from the family, but he didn't care. Mikaela was married for a short period of three years from when he was 22 to 26, but his wife died 3 years ago. Emily had been suffering from a hereditary heart disease since she was young and passed away with no other family. He had one baby boy named Luke.

Mikaela never did have any other relationship besides his marriage. There was a time in middle school... But that never did go anywhere.

His son was born with lighter lavender eyes that came from his father and blonde hair. Luke has a habit of milking his cuteness, but always ends up taking care of his papa. Luke is exceptional at cleaning and housework, more of the time taking care of his dad than the other way around.

Occupation
During the daytime he works as the manager for a small bar/coffee shop. At night he works as a waiter at his friend's high-class restaurant "Tonnelli's Italian Cuisine Restaurant." His sweet old lady neighbor Jocelyn takes care of his son while he's out at night.

At his coffee shop job he wears contacts that make his eye color blue. He leaves them off for his waiter job in order to get extra tips.

Sometimes he would make up some inventions he would use around the shop. He was a decent gadget handy man as well.

Appearance

At the height of 5'4" he's a bit on the short side. He tries his best to keep the average weight of 125, but his weight is always lowering due to his high metabolism. The thing that stands out most about his appearance is his two different colored eyes. His right eye is a mint green, while his left is a deep lavender. he also has a burn scar on his left leg when he saved Luke from dropping a pot of boiling water on his head. He has strawberry blonde hair that is sickeningly straight and he usually leaves it to its own devices.

Style: Not really being the fashionable type, Mikaela usually wore whatever his father ordered him to wear. All of his fantasies were kept in his head. He always had the baby face of his. Some people wondered if he ever did go through puberty in the first place, it seemed like he only grew taller and that was it. His voice changed seemed to be gradual and no one could really notice when it came to his normal voice now.

Middleschool Clique
"The one everyone leaves alone."

Mikaela was the kind of person that was always staring off into space and caught in a day dream. In his earlier years of middle school, he was bullied a lot. He kept it a secret from the people around him and slowly all the bullies grew tired of him. The girls at school liked him for his mysterious look, but would leave him alone when they found out he would either talk for days about what he was thinking of, or just ignore them caught in some other delusion. He was always working on some kind of trinket that no one could understand.

Highschool Clique
"The Freak"

It wasn't until high school that he met Jonah. No one had really gotten that psychological and that cruel when they bullied him in middle school. The teenager seemed to always have this sweet happy smile on his face, appearing to others as a good friend of Mikaela's. There were quite a bunch of misunderstandings with it. He would label Micah as a freak, someone that only had the purpose to disgust people. He might grow up to have money, but he'd just become the puppet with his father pulling the strings. Jonah wrecked at his mental state more and more. Mikaela became so withdrawn from reality it messed with his health. Was that a dragon peeking from around the corner? Did the walls just start to close in? Day in and day out was a terror.

It was one day when Micah was so out of touch with reality he was unresponsive to Jonah. Getting angrier and angrier, the sadistic bully carved light lines into the other's face. It stung a little, but his words as he sliced him cut far deeper. When Mikaela came home, his father shipped him off to boarding school.

He gained more confidence during those years. Mikaela realized he didn't want to carry on his father's legacy. He would do everything to make his father happy... then slip out right from under him.

Past Crush
He had a deep crush on Genie that he could never explain. Yes, there was no way he could like another man! But... this was Genie... All the boys might have caught on to his affection, but he never did confess.

When they were in middle school, Alver confessed to him. Mikaela didn't know what to do. He had been caught at one point reading something with suggested homosexual tendencies. The boy... he had been locked in the closet all night after that. He wasn't gay! That wouldn't happen... Not as long as he lived under that household. Mikaela did his best to soften the blow of his rejection, but it didn't seem to work.

Current Crush

---

Are you in contact with a Rose?
No

Personality

The boy always seems to be thinking up some new kind of fantasy as a kid. Before he met his childhood friends, he would spend hours staring at the wall and dreaming up new fantasies. He is a lazy bum who can't seem to clean anything right. He was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but when he is able to focus enough, he's able to cook well.

Mikaela loves being around people who all care for each other, they help bring his fantasies to reality. He may not show it, but smiles are all he wants to give other people. He also sees the world a lot differently from other people. Each different sound has a shade of color, and there are all beautiful. He always believed that Zac's blue voice was the prettiest though.

Mikaela may seem distant to you now. When he talks to people, he puts on a facade of being super happy, keeping a save emotional distance between the two of you. If he doesn't try hard enough, he usually keeps a straight face all the time, and that creeps people out.

Because of his time in high school, he does his best to distance himself. Micah doesn't want people to find out about his fantasies, he doesn't want to call him strange or a freak.

He has a son to take care of. Luke and his friend Hank are the only ones around him that know about his daydreaming. Since he isn't good at housework, his son picks up the slack, he's usually taking a nap at home or playing with his son.

Short Bio

Mikaela never seemed to be fit for the heir to the Winter family. His eyes seemed to be two different colors and he was always off in his own world. His father thought of him as weak and would force him to study all the time. Micah didn't care too much about that, since studying wasn't that bad, whenever he wasn't studying, he was off in his fantasies. In his family, no one knew his true emotions, because he was so bad at showing them on his face.

But then he met his first friends, the ones he actually called his family. They all seemed to be younger than him, but they unconsciously taught him how to express himself. He would laugh and play like a normal boy, which his parents had never seen before. Mikaela's favorite place was the club house, that was the only place he would ever go to when he final felt the pressures of his family.

But... Everyone left. He couldn't handle the stress of rejecting Alver, the one he thought of as his "family's" mother. Mikaela realized what he was leaving, but he just couldn't handle it. His fantasies were his only company after that.

After the intense bullying from Jonah, Mikaela was shipped off to boarding school. There was no way he could leave everything he'd known just to be under his father's thumb. If he had learned anything from Jonah, it was that he was going to turn into the puppet if he didn't do anything.

Mikaela convinced his parents to let him go back to college in Willow Valley. There he was able to not be the most popular, but not be the loner either. He was able to meet Hank his freshman year and start his first proper friendship in forever. Jonah didn't go to his college so he didn't have any influence there.

His second year... he met Emily. His beautiful angel, the one he hoped to spend his life with. They did everything together. Micah decided to marry her the first chance he got. But his parents said no way. Mikaela was the heir, he was to have an arranged marriage and take over the family business... but he fought back full force. His father got so pissed that he disowned his own son, not caring that he wouldn't have an heir anymore.

Those next few years seemed to be his happiest after his childhood memories. They didn't have much money, but they made due and had a son right away. Luke was a reincarnation of his mother... but that must have been why she died from a heart attack. Mikaela was able to bounce back out of his depression because of Luke. He was able to stay firm and not let his parents take Luke away from him.

To support his son, Mikaela worked extra hours as a waiter at a rather high-class restaurant. He devoted his life completely to his son...

Jonah was back. He had gone and gotten a master's degree from his college and came back just to torture Micah. He came around now and again to wreck at Mikaela's mental state. He never did really fight back against Jonah, the only times he did was when Jonah said things about Luke.

Jonah... the man came by one night while Luke was at a sleepover. He was outrageously drunk and overpowered Mikaela, raping him and sprouting insults left and right. Even Jonah felt a little bit bad about that when he woke up, so he paid Mikaela a hefty amount of money to keep him quiet and half-seriously joked about them doing it again every so often.

[User]
Micah didn't dream of anything. It was such a relief for the Blonde since all his recent dreams had ripped him apart and stabbed his heart. All Micah could tell in his unconscious state was that he was comfortable and safe, which did wonders for his psyche. Micah took his time to wake up, not even gaining a sense of self until around nine. Mikaela opened his eyes and felt the empty spot next to him. It was rather cold and the Blonde frowned, but it wasn't that strange for Alver to not be next to him. The Blonde did sleep in a lot more than he probably should.

An hour or two earlier, Luke had woken up bright and early and had peeked into the master bedroom. After finding his Papa fast asleep, he had decided to go downstairs and look for Alver. Once downstairs, he swiftly moved to the kitchen as his stomach announced his arrival. Luke hurried to take a seat, seeing the food sitting on the table, "Good morning!"

[Assistant]
Alver was thinking to himself, trying to clear his mind from his unsettling nightmare, keeping his focus on cooking. Perhaps humming a little tune to settle his nerves. As he a pile of pumpkin pancakes on a plate, something to fit the season, he heard someone come down the stairs and smiled a little as he turned his head to see Luke. The albino chuckled a bit and poured some milk in a glass before walking over and setting the plate and glass on the table in front of Luke.

"Well good morning Luke! Did you sleep well? Ready for some breakfast I hear." Alver said with amusement at the sound of rumbling tummies. His lavender eyes glanced toward the stairs and gave a soft sigh, taking a seat across from Luke, wearing a white apron.

"Your dad must still be asleep. Glad he's getting some rest." Alver chuckled a little.

[User]
The boy happily went to work cutting his pancakes into tiny bite-sized pieces. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day after all! And no one wanted to choke on such fluffy goodness... "Pancakes are one of my favorite foods!" He smiled, slipping a piece into his mouth and giving a gasp of delight.

After taking a sip of milk, he commented back, "Papa never gets up on time, it might be because he's always working, but he goes out of his way to tuck me in whenever he can. ...I didn't hear anything last night, was Papa having bad dreams?"


[System]
Sex: Male
Age: 28
Faction: Slumlord-bartender
Appearance: Da.
Clothing: See "Da."
Personality: Crusty exterior, with a side of wise-sass. But underneath all that genuinely cares for the welfare of his patrons.
Weapons: Pump Shotgun, fists, bad langrage.

Equipment: He runs a bar, so he's got a pretty good selection of craft-beers and hard-liquors via some fermentation-vats and a still. He's also got a grill, a deep-fryer, and a seldom-used coffee-maker somewhere in the back.

Bio:
Working on it. Jeeze, why do you always have to be so negative?

[User]
Joy groaned, mumbled, and generally didn't want to get up. She was tired, but there would be time to rest later. One whiff of herself told her that yeah, okay, maybe it was finally time to get going. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and stepped into the gym with Joslyn. Joy made the walk at a leisurely pace, trying to still stay alert enough to get things going in her mind until they came to the showers. Just take her stuff off? Okay. She put her clothes on one of the benches and felt pretty alright until she turned around and caught Joslyn in her sight. Was she there the whole time?! Joy swiftly covered herself as her cheeks flushed. She didn't know why, but she was incredibly embarrassed.

On the other hand, Joslyn herself seemed to not mind standing in her birthday suit. Joy looked at her, and then at herself. She did this a few times, noticing a very distinct difference in their sizes. What'd she do to get them so big? Joy sighed and looked down at her own in contempt before Joslyn ushered her into the shower stall out of the locker room. She still covered herself, for reasons she didn't know, and felt chills run up and down her spine at the cold water and Joslyn's assisstance in washing her back. With her body shaking and her lip quivering and about turning blue, she tried to focus on other things as the girl whimpered from the icy water, making goosebumps on her skin. This wasn't like back at the facility, and she was started to miss that little difference a bit.

[Assistant]
As Adrian was given teh all-clear, he stepped into the changing-room, and began sorting-through Joy's clothes, from things in most need of cleaning to things that just needed a good soak in clean soapy water. He chose to start with the later in one sink plugged with a badly-browned and blackened pair of ehr socks, which resaulted in a pungeantly-smelling gray brine which was mostly used to moisten and slough-off some of the super-caked crud from her jacket and pants as the previously soaked clothes were rinsed in the next sink over.

He was making fairly good progress at cleaning off Joy's clothes, having them go through the wash at least twice by the time he heard a noise. He didn't think much of it until he heard it again... It was a door... And boots... Army boots...

Thinking quickly, he stuffed mostly all of both Joy and Joslyn's clothes into the sinks, stripped down, and hopped quickly into the shower between Joy and Jossie, just to get himself thuroughly wet, then popped out as he grabbed a towel to scamper-out and meet the bootfalls as they could now clearly be heard coming towards the noise of running water.

"Oh! I didn't see you there!" He gasped, in dull-surprise to the military-patrol as they gazed upon his unabashed manhood until he finally managed to wrap a towel around his waist with one hand as the other reached into the shower-stall blindly to turn off the water.

Joslyn was forced to surpress a startled noise when Adrian dropped his clothing and hopped into the shower, forcing himself between the girls for a moment. On top of that, she was pretty sure she saw a certain part of the male anatomy she was not really supposed to see, which caused her face to heat up and her ears to turn red. However, she never got the chance to whisper anything to the male as he got out of the shower to speak to whoever had entered the locker room and even had to dodge his hand as he reached in.

"What are you doing in here? one of the men demanded, a flashlight, as well as a rifle, trained on Adrian, "And whose clothing is that you are washing in the sink?"

"I was taking a shower." Adrian shrugged at the rapid volley of questions, "decided to do some laundry while I was at it, but didn't feel like messing up the men's locker-room. I'm sure you can check with the gym owner if you think they'd have a problem with it, but I assure you he doesn't mind." He finished answering as he pulled Joy's sopping-wet army-jacket out of the sink and wrung it out for the third time, letting the gray water drip back into the sink before taking a brush to a muddy and worn-out pair of army-boots.

When he saw that the explanation wasn't making them leave, in fact, one of them was starting to work along the side of the wall behind him, likely only curious if the rumors about the women's locker rooms having a couch hidden in them were true or not...

"If any of you plan on sticking around, you could help me hang these clothes out to dry..."

The errant soldier swiftly turned around, having reconsidered malingering in this part of teh gym any longer if it meant having to go through this stranger's clothes, however, turning down the offer to stay while still staying quickly tried Adrian's pretend-patience with these people, as he shoo'd them back out the door before they could even think to peek behind the shower-curtain.

However, as they were leaving, he make a motion to check himself for body odor and scoffed, "ugh... needs more soap..."

[User] Joy paled. Sure, Joslyn with her was one thing, but Adrian?! And she about gagged and was visibly flustered about that...that...thing he had. Of course, the emotional height didn't stop at that when she heard voices of what she deduced were soldiers in the other room. She covered her mouth, feeling completely naked without her guns or knife around. She looked to Joslyn, visibly worried as to be expected. She stood there, holding her breath, shaking like a leaf as cold water dripped down from her hair. Given the days events, she was about ready to cry. She was more than ready for a rest now.

[Assistant]
With the military men gone and them done with their shower, and thankfully with Joy smelling a lot better, Joslyn stared at the clothing in the sink and frowned. It was clear she was not pleased about the lack of dry clothing, even more so since she was stark naked without a means to cover herself when they had to leave the locker room. "My clothing was washed yesterday.... now we have to wear wet shit," she grumbled as she started to wring out the clothing the best she could, throwing Joy her things as she dried them out a bit. While they were far from dry, they were no longer dripping, which was much better in her eyes than walking around soaking wet.

 When they were all dressed, and Joslyn was no longer staring at Adrian more than she probably should have, they went back to the car to return Joy to the apartment so the female could rest.Once they got back to the apartment, Joslyn told Joy to go ahead and get some sleep in the bed that was there before she turned to Adrian. "Do all... um... whatever that thing attached to your hip is, look like that?" she questioned, "Are they all that soft?" As she had spent most of her life being tested, she never had any real interaction with men, let alone naked men. She was completely naive to the entirety of how they acted, or what it would mean to be involved with one in any compacity. When she had seen Adrian's, she had been both intregued and a little nervous, her entire body jumping slightly when it had brushed against her hip. Part of her wanted to see it again, maybe even touch it because of her curiousity, but she wasn't sure if that was something she could ask.

 It took a second for Adrian to realize what Joslyn was even enquiring about, but then he had a warm smile as he tried his best to explain things without getting too specific or possibly get himself caught lying due to his own ignorance of the capabilites of the human reproductive system "Not all of them. Some are black, some are bigger, some are smaller, I've heard some of them even glow in the dark." he answered, only to be a bit surprised by her next question... She, touched it? When? The shower? he thought to himself as he started to blush, "No, not always.... well, not-soft isn't how I'd describe it... more just, rigid." He tried to explain, knowing he was probably just making her more curious, which would lead to further questions, an more awkwardness as they approached the car...

 "So what would you like to eat? The kitchen here isn't the best, but it has plenty of warm food and a better selection than your fridge." He asked, trying so very desprately to change the topic before they entered the bar.

 "Is it bad to ask if I can see it again? I've never seen anything like it," she questioned before she thought about what he had just asked, "I am not sure what I would like to eat as I haven't eaten much other than what you have seen in the fridge when you came into my home... and do they really glow in the dark? Your's didn't... are they all that size?" She looked at him, curious as to why he was blushing as she did not think that what she was asking was something that was worth being embarrassed about. Then again, she wasn't sure what to expect when it came to sex or even the male reproductive organ, she had no reason too as she never really found anyone of interest (male or female) to ask about such things. Now that she had seen whatever that was, she was entirely too interested to stop asking about it unless he found a way to make her stop.

 "Well, not right now. Maybe later, after your shift?" Adrian rebuked with his own counter-offer as he quickly tried to think of some sort of dish to serve her, the gridle was still disgusting from last night, the deep-fryer was still serviceable. Since he'd just woken her up not too long ago, something breakfast-y would be considered, and since she looked hungry, high-calorie as well... and fried... because that gridle ain't be getting cleaned tonight.

 "I said some of them do. Not all. Mine is special." He stated, protesting her further questions as they drove for the bar, as Joslyn sat beside him as usual and dressed in dryer clothes.

 "I am going to hold you to that," she said simply, now staring out the window as she wondered why he hadn't answered her other question. As far as she knew, anything and everything he told her was true, but that was the downside of being naive to such things. Just as the silence was starting to get to her, Adrian pulled into a parking space just outside of a building she assumed to be his bar, "Oh... you aren't that far from my home, at least I will be able to walk to work."

[User]
Adrian had mixed feelings about being threatened with his own promise.... wait? did he make a promise? Yes... yes he did. And Josslyn didn't seem nearly as embarrassed about her questions as he thought a typical seventeen year old girl would be.

Thankfully, she finally commented on something that was not his penis as they parked, and walked the final way to the back-door of an unassumingly quiet nightclub. Inside was the foyer for workers to head off and wash their hands, further in was the kitchen, followed by the main-floor. Another side-way from the foyer led to changing-rooms and the main-stage originally for whoever was performing on a particular night; as the bar had switched to karaoke, the changing-rooms were open for use by Adrian for days he just didn't feel like risking a trip on the streets to his apartment.

As they passed through the already-lit kitchen they were greeted by the short-order cook who immediately recognized their boss, with a guest and stood attentive as he gave a special order for him: "Four eggs, deep fried; a side of cheese-curds and two pints for me and the miss. She'll be working here and I don't want her serving food on an empty stomach."

The chef bowed and went straight to work as he led Joslyn by the hand away through to the main-floor and to a secluded crescent-shaped booth while taking both pints from the bar, allowing her to sit first before entering from the opposite side.

"The food will be here shortly."

Joslyn couldn't help but blush when Adrian had taken her hand, though she couldn't exactly reason why that was. "Food sounds good," she said after a moment or two of trying to figure out if she should actually drink the beer he had gotten for her, "So, is it normal for you to just show up with a chick? The guy didn't really seem all that surprised that you had me in tow." Reaching forward, she grabbed one of the pints and sniffed at it before downing about a quarter of what was in the cup. She was still rather thirsty, and not at all pleased with her still damp clothing, but she wasn't sure if that would be something she could say to him.

Looking down at her person, she frowned when she noticed that her shirt and pants were hugging her body, not baggy like she usually liked them. "So... um... do you have anything I could borrow for tonight if I am to be working? I can't walk around in wet clothing that is practically suction-cupped to my skin," she pointed out.

Adrian nodded after considering what he could do on short notice, "I suppose I could offer you some of my spare clothes." He mused, as he took a drink from his own pint, waiting for the food to be carried out to them promptly as one of the patrons tried to drunkenly belt-out some reworded lines from MDC before being boo'ed offstage.

"I mean, I have some clothes stored here. Not that I'm offering you the clothes I'm wearing now." He started to explain, noting that his own clothes weren't exactly bone-dry either. "There's a back-room where we came-in, second door on the left is mine. You can excuse yourself and go find something that fits while I wait for our food."


[System]
Nobility:No
Sex:Male
Race:Armenian
Age:21
Physical Description: A tall, handsome man standing at 6', Paulus has a strong body. He has average dark skin and a light layer of facial hair. His round face is dominated by a strong nose, and his green eyes sit under a full head of shaggy hair.
Rank:Trooper
Magic-Rank:NA
Goals/Aspirations: Paulus has an obsession with order, and wishes to use his talents in the military to protect the land and lifestyle he loves.
Personality: Paulus can hold his own in a conversation, only occasionally being seen as stubborn and overzealous about his world view if the topic turns that way. Paulus feels indebted to the nobility, a unique stance for a commoner. Deep down, Paulus cares for the welfare of his peers, but is a little annoyed when they don't see the nobility the same way he does.
 Paulus is a very focused individual and doesn't care much for drink or revelry. He also isn't very interested in finding a bride, believing one would only be a distraction. This makes Paulus a very diligent worker, and he often devotes the energy he would put into socializing or expressing himself into his work; whatever it may be.

Backstory:
 Paulus's father fought in the twilight of the American revolution as one of Optimate's Dragoons. Unfortunately he lost his arm, but by the grace of the Almighty, he was able to return to his family alive and well. After returning home, a young, landed noble took pity on the brave soldier, and saw to it that he was well taken care of. His experiences in the new world left Paulus's father with a poor opinion of democracy, an opinion only cemented by the generosity of the nobleman.
 Paulus is the first and only child of his parents, and his father began to teach him from a young age that the structure and power of the Byzantine Empire was ordained by the Lord and to be protected with his life. Starting him at age seven, the families benefactor provided Paulus with a tutor who taught Paulus basic mathematics, science, literature, and combat. This lasted until Paulus was 15 and the Mamluk rebellion began. The conflict destabilized the noble that had kept a kind eye over their family for years, and he was unable to care for them any longer. Fortunately, Paulus was at an age to begin work, and his able body and work ethic found jobs to support his family, despite the hard times the community was experiencing. While he worked, his body maturing and growing strong, he mused that his troubles all stemmed from peasants in Cairo who were ungrateful to their noble masters and were foolish enough to revolt. (Ignorant that the rebellion was lead by nobility.)
 Paulus worked many jobs. A number of times he would attempt to become an apprentice, but no master was able to keep him long due to the lack of resources during the war. This ended up benefitting Paulus, as he was a hard worker and was able to learn bits and pieces from many trades. When he wasn't in contact with a craftsman, Paulus would take on work as a common laborer or a servant. Eventually, the rebellion came to a close and prospects began to look up for the family. Instead of being a happy time for the family, Paulus's father passed. Paulus took little time to grieve his father,though. He knew that was not what his father would have had his son be preoccupied with grief when he could be serving the nation. Instead, he entrusted his mother in the care of relatives and enlisted to become a member of the imperial army.

[User]
Herakles Leventis

Herakles tried to listen intently as he scanned the treeline, its depths looking ever more treacherous, but his thoughts were a mad jumble. Sweat gathered on his brow, threatening to sting at his eyes as it inched its way downward. The warm summer sun blazed, glistening off of the pooling blood already matting the steed's maple coat. He couldn't believe how much there was. Try as he might to look away, his eyes were fixed on the motionless form slumped before him. How foolish he was to have allowed himself to be lulled into this false sense of security. And his foolishness had now cost a man his life.

The sounds of the river's splashing just behind him drew his focus away for but a moment. His eyes flitted from forest to river and back again as realization struck him like a runaway cart. Should they remain where they were, they'd be pinned without cover against a body of moving water that likely wasn't even passable. Yet he was sure a fate left to the coursing river was a better prospect than being gunned down in the open. No. That would not and could not happen. He wouldn't have another man die here on his account. There wasn't a moment to spare. They would need to act and act fast. Yet even as he tried to move, his feet stood frozen in place. Anxious thoughts plagued his mind as he fought to regain control over himself. How close was the enemy? Were they on horseback? Could the horses make it all the way back to town without first tiring? Would the enemy have thought to cut off their return, hoping instead to catch them beleaguered and fatigued on the road? This far from command, he had no one to ask for leadership. His word would be the final call. Yet even as he went to speak, fear caught his words as they tried to find flight and pulled them back into his gut. The words sat like a pile of stones in the pit of his stomach, heavy and laden with guilt. He could hear the pounding of his own heart, now racing faster than his flurrying thoughts.

"Sir!" He finally heard the man, voice at a shout, yet it sounded distant. Hero had called him now for the third time as the other men looked on wide-eyed and mouths agape. All of them stood, shocked into silence, as pressure to do something —anything— grew all the more pressing. Morale was flagging drastically. His men were relying on him and he was failing them. Failing to think. Failing to speak. Failing to move.... Failing to do. The stakes in this moment were too high. Failure was not an option. It was either do or die for these daring dragoons. Slowly, but surely he felt his wits coming back to him. His breath began to steady, his legs to cooperate. Precious moments had already been wasted with inaction and the time to respond to the unfolding events was quickly ebbing away. He hazarded another glance at the thicket menacing before them, then turned to address his men, voice faltering slightly.

"You're right, Hero.. There's little time. On me!" He shouted, a lump in his throat. "We're moving down the road back towards the garrison, but the moment you see me veer towards the forest, be quick to do the same. We'll dismount, tie up our horses, and lay in wait for our pursuers." His face was set in a steel-hard grimace, jaw clenched, trembling, eyes cast ahead. To stand and fight with the odds so thoroughly stacked against them would be utter madness. Yet it would hardly be less crazy to attempt to ride all the way back praying to go unmolested. No, they would have to take the fight back to the enemy in a show of force they couldn't possibly expect. He swallowed hard, spurring his ride into a gallop.

Low to the ground, preying at the edge of the forest, and concealed behind shrubbery Herakles waited patiently. His eyes were peeled for the slightest movement, diligently glued to the roadway. He had two shots ready in his double-barreled carbine and his pistol drawn beside him. His men knelt in preparation, Costas and Barsenis just beside him, while Speros and Hero watched the forest behind them for a sign. The death of Danius weighed heavily on each man present, but some combination of a drive for revenge and —the stronger one still— to survive kept the men alert. There would be blood spilt for the blood lost, but more than that none among them wanted to find themself buried alongside him in the morrow.

[Assistant]
Θεόδωρος

---

Αἰωνία ἡ μνήμη.

ɪ ᴏ ɴ ɪ ᴀ ᴏ ʀ ᴍ ᴇ ᴍ ᴏ ʀ ʏ .

---

His eyes were set on Cornet Levitus' commands, and as always, the Cornet was causing Theodoros to question his own actions. The closest Theodoros ever got to death was with that of his father. His father's passing had not affected Theodoros very much. There had been a sadness, but father had lasted longer than expected, having been older in his years when all of his children were born. Both of his brothers had felt a familiar sadness alongside him. His sister had not taken the passing well. She was the fainter hearted of the four Speros children. Despite living as a farm girl, Anekah was born with a staunch feminine charm and touch, unlike their mother. It was not something deemed efficient many of times with her frailty, but she married well and has since proven to be a dutiful and well-pleasing wife.

Theodoros had experienced other prospects of death aside from that of his beloved father. However, he could not help but feel a similar callousness towards Danius' death. It had been a surprise, but the stoicism he was trying to uphold seemed to have not been swept away by the redemption towards a fallen comrade. If anything, he felt an uneasiness towards his lack of regard for his brother. His mind was pulling on thoughts and tying them into prayers. He counted each prayer like every four steps that Manga made. He was feeling something for the recently reposed, but the feeling was not quite accurate.

He could say that his happiness was based solely on that of the Lord, but even in such a case, there should have been some respect due. The tears that had poured from Hero as he expressed concern had caused Theodoros to reach from his reigns and towards his saber -- not his prayer rope, still tucked in its usual spot. Theodoros knew he was being ridiculous, contemplating where his heart lie in the midst of a battle about to ensue. Quickly, he pegged the animosity of soul on his own fear of death. It is best to turn it into bravery then foolish doubt, he inquired within himself.

The bellow of the Cornet tightened the reign of command over the men, and Theodoros was immediately pulled from his selfish delusion. Without Danius, they were a man short. All of the likelihood that had stood upon and within Danius had departed this world. The tragedy of his loss was written and would not be read in vain. In an instance of realization, the struggle broke the barriers of what he was supposed to feel; and the blessings of the gallop allowed the emotions weighing in Theodoros to run freely through the muscles of his horse; and in the moment, where Theodoros lay lowly next to Hero, the fumes of anticipation hung in the greenery. His mind was still running forwards. The maze of the battlefield was igniting smells and sounds that were new to Theodoros this time around, and he could not help but believe in his current position that he was making some sort of prostration to the death about to come.

[User]
It was as though Paulus had swallowed a firecracker. His stomach seemed fit to burst and the resolve had built over the weeks seemed to fizzle away in a miraculous show of sound and sparks. It was actually happening. He was going to war. The parade ground seemed to disappear. Hours seemed to past by as he absorbed the notion. In reality this was only a matter of second, and he regained awareness as orders began to be barked about preparations to be made.

A week long voyage was just what Paulus needed. There was something soothing about the ocean, the way it rocked. Almost like cradle. As the ocean air filled his lungs, he would spend time on the deck mentally going over every maneuver, technique, and drill. Slowly, he regained his confidence. He was the son of a soldier going to feel his destiny. This was a time to rejoice, he knew his father was watching him, praying to the saints for his son's safety.

Once on land Paulus was, not unpleasantly, surprised to find he would not be rushing into battle just yet. Of course, his relief did not stem from the fear of battle, but from the reassurance that he would have extra time to train and bond with his fellow Dragoons. At least, that's what he told himself. The scouting work was a nice distraction for Paulus. He was used to monotonous work, and was able to zone out and not worry about his fate. Occasionally he was practice maths in his head, or try to remember the words taught to him of great poets and philosophers. He was sure his accuracy in either subject was lacking. Nevertheless, it aided in calming him. Soon, he was forced to face his fears as he returned to Tomis. He found his bunks and sat there for a moment, his eyes glazed over. His mind was in sort of a zen state, and he did his best to push any thought out of his mind. Eventually fear did creep in, but he found himself more relaxed after that moment of meditation. There was no point in sitting there, though. He might as well combat his fear, and the best way to do that was to train. He left the barracks, and searched the citadel for someone who could show him the way.


[System]
Esper
[Student]
[Micro Type]

Appearance:
Shizuka has short green hair and green eyes behind thick glasses. Some say she looks a bit boyish. Shizuka is on the short side. Shizuka generally wears her uniform or more modest, old-fashioned clothing when she's outside. At home she typically wears sweatshirt and sweatpants (totally an otaku)
Nickname/Alias: None

Magic Name : None

Position: None

Faction: None

Seat Number: #20

Nationality: Japanese

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Blood Type: B+

Biography: Shizuka grew up as a low-level Esper in Academy City, having been sent there by her parents at a young age, along with her older brother. When her brother was in high school, and herself in elementary school, her brother started using the notorious Level Upper performance enhancing audio file. He shared it with Shizuka and both of them noticed a boost in their ability to use their Esper powers. When Kiyama Harumi, the creator of Level Upper used the Level Upper AIM network to hijack the powers of all the Espers using the network, both Shizuka and her brother went into a coma and after they were brought out of the coma by the Level Upper treatment program, they were apprehended as Level Upper users, in effect, they were branded as criminals. Due to her young age and due to having been influenced by her brother, Shizuka was acquitted, whereas her brother had to go through a long and arduous process to be released. He was also sent away from Academy City since he had lost his powers as a result of Level Upper.

Though Shizuka resents what Kiyama Harumi and Level Upper (and by extension, Academy City) did to her brother, the pressure, shame and powerlessness of being a low-level Esper combined with an insatiable curiosity for the level of power she had experienced when younger has pushed her to experiment on herself with synesthesia; as a manipulator of sound, she attempted over and over again to recreate and modify the original audio of Level Upper. It is perhaps this daring to break past her limits through unconventional (and potentially dangerous) means that has gained her acceptance to Hybrid Academy.

Personality: Despite her ambition, Shizuka is actually kind of a coward and just wants to get along with everyone. She puts too much value on what other people think of her, giving her a desire to please others which makes her susceptible to being bullied and exploited. She tries to find someone who she thinks will be nice to her and give her attention to whom she latches on, becoming something of a lackey. She can come off as serious but is easily flustered. She is afraid that her love of computers will make people think she's an otaku (she really is).

Likes:
- Robotics/electronics
- Computers
- Video games
- "Cool" things like tokusatsu
- Classical Music
- Pure sounds (electronic tones), or natural sounds (waterfalls and thunder)
Dislikes:
- Noise, sudden noise (gunfire, screaming), the sound of too many people talking (crowds)
- Conflict, quarreling
- Being ignored
- Being asked about music
- Feeling exposed

Skills:
- Wave Theory
- Perfect Pitch
- Harmonics
- Electrical engineering (hobby)
- Piezoelectric circuit design

Ability:
Lonely Orchestra (獨單樂隊 - Tandoku Gakutai) (Acoustokinesis): Level 2 (Level Up 4-5); Micro
Special Skill: Detection and emission of audible and inaudible frequencies and amplitudes of sound. This includes being able to figure out the resonant frequencies of various objects and materials by listening to the sound it makes when struck, and imitating voices.
Signature Move: * Level Upper Private Server - Shizuka's ultimate goal is to recreate Level Upper for herself. This may push her to Level 4 or Level 5. Depending on what the GM allows, this may be a buff to herself only, or an area-of-effect buff to all Espers within range of hearing her, which may or may not come with the advantages and disadvantages that having a small AIM field network brings. The details of how this particular skill manifests can be tweaked since Shizuka may not actually end up making an exact copy of the original audio.
	+ Disadvantages: May induce coma or other negative side effects of the original Level Upper.

Magic: None

Theme Song(s):
- Main
- Battle music, or if she ever gets the chance to power-trip
- More power-tripping

Extras: Shizuka is not actually an audiophile and is somewhat out-of-touch with popular music. Shizuka's Signature Moves will not be achieved until later (with GM's permission of course).

[User]
Seiji sighed as he sat in his seat, watching whatever shenanigans unfolded around him. Nobody had really noticed his presence, but that was fine- given the lack of sanity everyone seemed to have, it was probably better off that way. Mindlessly following along with the statements the people on stage were giving out, Seiji tapped his fingers on his lap impatiently. Though the introductions were all probably mandatory, the time it took to get through them seemed to be a lot longer than it should have been.

Oh well. That was probably due to his boredom, in all honesty. After transferring here as a complete nobody, it wasn't surprising to not be making any acquaintances- his relatively bland appearance didn't help matters much either. But the formalities continued on, no matter hoow useless they seemed to be. Oh, if only this thing could end sooner so he could get back to reading...

The thought of reading in the auditorium had obviously crossed his mind earlier, but that would be disrespectful and probably get him in some sort of trouble or, worse yet, get his novel confiscated. It wasn't worth the effort to retrieve the copy if that was the case, of course, so Seiji decided to just take this one head on. The coffee he had taken earlier that morning was just starting to kick in now, anyhow- what perfect timing that was.

[Assistant]
Akira, who had been in his desk asleep the whole time, had jolted himself awake when the lady had started speaking. He paid as close attention as he could, but over all it was all he could do to keep his head up. He did look over the paper he was given thoroughly as possible, and took out a note pad to write down a set of notes for if/when he switched over to him. The notes were simple and to the point, and he made sure to make it extra clear that abuse of powers came with heavy consequences. Hopefully, the recipient of these notes will actually listen, though that was a hope that had very little evidence to back it up.

Akira raised his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned, giving a passing glance at the blue woman with some interest. She looked a little scary, but Akira was sure she was a nice person underneath the cool exterior. All people had to do was give her a chance, though if the reaction of some of the other students was anything to go on, that probably wasn't done that often.

'I'll go over and say hi after the Ceremony, if possible. It's always good to have a healthy relationship with one's teachers.'

As a male teacher whose name he had missed in his delirium called up members of Judgement, as well as level 5's, Akira was hit with another pang of longing.
Akira had wanted to be a part of Judgement ever since he'd first come to academy city, but with his. . . problem, he didn't want to risk hurting someone. Besides, that problem would probably cause him to be rejected as soon as he tried to apply. He was just too much of a hazard. And that desire also led to the reason he was tired this morning. He was kinda, sorta, possibly a vigliante, and he may have only had about, say, 2 hours of sleep due to being held up by a band of Akurans. They had been in the process of kidnapping some middle school age girls, he didn't even want to think about what for, when he had happened upon them on his way home. They weren't that strong, but their was a lot of them and as a Micro, he was good at long fights. He had made it through all right, but it had taken a while, as they seemed to have gotten reinforcements half way through.

And of course, when he went to go ask the girls if they were al right, they started screaming there heads off. Calming them down had taken about an hour, and had done a thorough job of killing his spirits. People were always disgusted by his ability, and nobody seemed to like his mask. He was currently thinking of upgrading it so that it could have a function besides hiding his identity as the 'Red Devil'. He wasn't going to change the look though, it was cool and he din't care what anybody said, even if it did make calming down victims a tad bit harder.

[User]
Anderson chuckled, he had plans to break every single one of those rules and get away with it. Information was power, and Anderson had already amassed a good deal of it. But he would probably have to break those rules if he wanted to get more in this school, he didn't have time conforming to hypocritical rules, he had an empire to build.

He patted the Beretta Raffica in its holster under his jacket and felt the combat butterfly knife in his sleeve. Sins were created to be made, he just made more of them. He panned his head around and saw the boy next to him fiddling with his fingers and a novel sticking out of his pocket. "Nice book you've got there, I've read it before, interesting book isn't it?"
The boy looked at him as Kazeno poned to the v=cover that was peaking out of the pocket, "If you want to read it, then do it. I won't snitch, I promise.
Anderson put on a smile as he reassured the boy, Service with a smile, he thought to himself.

[Assistant]
When the teacher, Kurogane-sensei came to the podium to speak, Shizuka grabbed her face in embarrassment. "He's...so hot!" she thought to herself, I hope he's our homeroom teacher! Ah, but he's not going to pay any attention to a weird otaku girl like me. No! I'm not an otaku, I just have...different tastes..."

When Kurogane-sensei finished the first part of his speech and the fangirls started calling out his name, Shizuka kept quiet, as the sheer amount of rivals made her feel even more so that her chances were nigh impossible. When Hoshira-sensei was introduced, Shizuka was at first a bit repulsed by her strange skin color, but Kurogane-sensei reminded everyone to disregard outward appearances, which she took to heart, "That might mean that Sensei will look past my otaku tendencies!" Though back to the ceremony, Shizuka thought about how she felt about magic users, and came to the conclusion that unlike other people of Academy City, she had nothing against magic users, it was an unusual quirk of how her parents raised her, to tolerate people of faith, even if you might think they were irrational.

When members of Judgment were called up, Shizuka noticed that there were a lot of good looking boys, but when Ria was called up, Shizuka was reminded where she had heard Kurogane Kiyoshi before, as one of the Level 5's, few people hadn't heard his and Ria's names. Looking at Ria's cool elegance, Shizuka wondered if they could be friends. As a level 2, Shizuka had a strange mixture of jealousy and awe when she thought about level 5's, she assumed most of them were arrogant, but then again, they had a right to be. But she was sure they couldn't all be like that, and hoped Kurogane-sensei and Ria were not. Maybe if she 'Leveled Up', she could gain their respect, after all, that's what she was here for.


[System]
Alias: Obsidian

Appearance: Short, black shaggy hair that comes up to right below her ears and has a bang that half covers her left eye. She has big dark-brown, almost black, eyes, and there is a small scar on the right side of her nose(only about 6mm long). She isn't the curviest person in the world, but she does have a figure. She is 5'8 tall and weighs about 145lbs.

Piercings/tattoos: Only her ears are pierced, and her preferred earrings of choice are two small silver studs.

Clothes: Prefers to wear graphic t-shirts when she can get away with it, an old worn leather-jacket, dark jeans and combat boots, but when the situation(aka, having to appear as a responsible/functioning adult in front of others) calls for it, she'll wear tops/sweaters(mostly in darker colours) and semi-formal flats.

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Hometown: Detroit Michigan

Biography: Erika had a more or less normal childhood. Two loving parents, a total nerd for a baby brother as well as two dogs and two cats. Frankly, apart from having to share a bathroom, there wasn't much she would change about her life.

Growing up, she was always more than a little reckless, when someone insinuated that she cant do something, or when something just seems like a really cool idea, she'll do it regardless of the consequences. Trying to escape school by jumping out of the second story window onto a flimsy tree-branch and sliding down every dang stair-railing she sees are only a few examples…needless to say she also had her fair share of injuries as a child.

Luckily as she got older, she became a little less of a reckless idiot and her regular visits to the E.R became significantly less frequent, mostly due to the fact that her parents decided to help channel all of her reckless energy by signing her up for various after-school activities like kickboxing, paintball and gymnastics.

After graduating high school, Erica went to a nice college a few towns over to get a degree. She worked hard, continued with kickboxing and gymnastics, and was reasonably popular with other college students who liked to do dangerous stuff too and had no complaints when challenged to a paintball duel, so it was safe to say that college was a good time for her.

When she was 22, she came home for the holidays. Her brother, Frankie, who was 13 at the time was annoying the life out of their mother by interrupting her frenzied attempts of preparing the house for the relatives that would be coming over by begging her to take him to a new comic-book store that just opened. As a gesture of goodwill, to shut the boy up and as an early Christmas present to her mother, Erika volunteered to take him.

The walk there hadn't been a problem, bar her bro's constant chattering they got there in one piece, the walk back, however, was more than a little problematic considering the sweaty hand that yanked them inside an empty alley and the shaky gun demanding that they hand over the money.

Erica refused, his trigger-finger activated, she ducked in front of her brother in order to shield him from the bullets coming their way and apparently the sucker had really bad aim, because both of them was still alive by the time his bullets ran out and she decided to put her kickboxing lessons to good use.

She didn't notice until after the man had managed to run away(not before she got a couple of good kicks in though) and her brother started yelling and fussing over her all panicked, that all six of the bullets that used to be in the guy's gun left six small holes in her jacket, and after she pulled it off and started frantically patting her back to feel for the inevitable blood that'll be pouring out, she found six tiny flattened bullets that fell to the ground as well as not as much as a scratch on her.

After calming down, stumbling home and getting over the shock, the two of them spent an embarrassing amount of time nerding out over her new abilities before immediately jumping headfirst into several experiments to see just how far her newfound powers go.

Now three years, a lot of training, completing her degree and several long discussions with her bro about a cool super-hero name later and she was moving into her new home in Bell Reach, hoping to make a name for herself in the hero-community while working part-time as a kickboxing instructor.

Personality: She's a very funny, entertaining and outgoing individual, who loves the adrenaline rush she gets when doing something dangerous. That, coupled with her extreme stubbornness and determination proved to be a dangerous combination when growing up.

She absolutely adores physical activities and working with her body, if she does nothing for too long she gets fidgety and extremely bored, which can lead to trouble in the long run. She just has to be moving around or doing something to keep busy. Her worst fear is boredom.

She is very close with her brother, having babysat the guy ever since she was old enough to be left alone with him. She's very protective of him and also the reason he's so into anything super-hero related(she's been corrupting him since birth).

Many hours spent reading comics with her brother and rooting for the good guy during movie nights also succeeded in installing a strong sense of justice in her as well as a desire to be able to make a difference in the world.

Though she can be more than a little reckless at times when it comes down to her own personal safety, she usually succeeds in getting the job done.

Skillset:* Kickboxing
* Really agile
* Physically fit
* Stamina
* Great with guns
* Good aim
* Running headfirst into danger
* Parkour
* Sliding down long staircases on serving trays

Powers: * The outer layer of her skin is basically undamageable, almost all physical attacks basically don't leave a scratch on her. This also comes with the drawback that she is no longer able to get shots from a doctor(not really a drawback if you ask her, but flu season is going to be awful) or be able to have any surgical procedures(again, she aint complaining).
* She also got a small strength boost, not enough to pick up a truck but she can now open jars with no problems.(meaning that she's about twice as strong as she used to be)

Weaknesses:* Her internal systems are still that of a normal human's and will act as such
* Though her skin will remain unaffected, she can still feel extreme temperatures and will respond to them like any other person would, e.g. feeling woozy from too much heat, heatstroke, ect.
* Illnesses, poisons, toxic fumes, teeny villains that hides in heroes' food and take them out from the inside after being ingested, basically anything that can hurt her insides and can get pass her protective outer layer.

Tools and Equipment: * Brass knuckles
* Hunting knife
* A Glock 17 with a 33-round high capacity magazine
* Cell phone
* Small first aid kit
* Reinforced customized backpack
* A motorcycle with a built in police-radio(one of her college buds is a mechanic and didn't ask any questions)

Uniform:

Additional Information: * She's left-handed
* Doctors, hospitals(yes, kinda ironic when you think of all the times she accidentally landed herself in one) and clowns creep her out
* Sucks with computers(only knows the bare minimum)
* She has a weakness for fried chicken
* She really wants a grappling hook and is in the process of saving up for it.
* She is also a horrible cook, the things she makes in the kitchen…I wouldn't feed them to my worst enemy…
* She and her brother were playing Minecraft while bickering about what the perfect name would be, when they came across some obsidian and her brother started going on about how he's going to build an impenetrable fortress with it, and, well...she was inspired and refused to listen to her brother when he tried to tell her that obsidian was actually really fragile, stating that she's going to use the name ironically.

[User]
The chief relented control of the situation to the supers. After a look shared with the Bastion Representative of this little event, the fire chief thumbed his radio and spoke loud and clearly. "I want everyone out of that building as soon as possible. Everyone seems accounted for, they're going to handle the rest." He nodded to Professor Devil, who nodded back. His stance seemed wider, but he didn't strike and obvious pose. With his eyes fixed on the flames, he could feel the warmth not only on his skin, but also in his mind.

"Eileen, I'm glad your here." Professor devil didn't bat an eye when the young woman approached him. He still stared into the core of the fire, keeping it as still as he could without putting it out outright. "The fire is pretty much handled, but we're still looking out for the one behind all this. Is there any chance you could look for abnormal heat traces in the surrounding area?"

As the electronic swarm would learn from the ongoing scans, there were a number of small areas which seemed highly concentrated in lingering energy. Small pockets of extreme heat which were dying off quickly, as well as something else more peculiar. Bent light. The EM scans would have shown more pockets where energy levels were high, almost leaving a trail from one to another before those pockets seemed to stop in their tracks. Again, after that, the heat continued to be strangely high and concentrated.

[Assistant]
As Eileen scanned the area, she picked up a trail, honing her drones to zero-in on the unique energy signature, and began attempting to find other signals that displayed heavy correlation with said energy signature. However, the alert that the data protection software sent to her by one of her drones drew her attention. She looked up at the source of the alert, seeing another vigilante on a hoverboard above her, and hearing the message patched through the drone. The drone that Lightning Bug had tossed away flew back to land on Lightning Bug's shoulder and began to speak in Eileen's voice, though Eileen's mouth wasn't moving. "Impressive! Thank you for exploiting this weakness in the system. It means my idea to have the encryption of my devices mapped to the neural network of my own brain is an idea worth pursuing. As well as completely switching to quantum optronics, which was in the works anyways. I hope you didn't find out too much information you're not supposed to, teehee! Anyways, you're definitely in! Come see me after all this is over, and I'll get you initiated."

Eileen smirked to herself. This fire was a gold mine, and she couldn't wait until the others involved here revealed themselves. She turned to Professor Devil and explained the trail that she was following and that she'd keep him updated. She also expressed that if he'd rather not deal with the inevitable slew of vigilantes that would approach him to either give a status report on the situation, attempt to make a name for themselves by schmoozing with him, or both; that she, as government liaison, would gladly handle it for him. After all, he was busy and couldn't be bothered by every vigilante out to get their fifteen minutes of fame.

[User]
David watched as several other vigilantes showed up on the scene to help stop the collapse of the burning building or prevent any civilian casualties. Nodding to himself slightly, David removed the bandanna from his face and stuffed it into his pants pocket as he pulled the deep gray hood he wore further over his face. Willing time to grind to a halt he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, turned away from the chaotic scene, which was eerily peaceful now that it was suspended in time, and calmly walked away. Now that other powered individuals had arrived and all the people had been moved from the buildings flaming interior, there was very little reason left for him to stay and help. The newcomers had this covered. No need for him to hang around any longer than was necessary.

Striding off down the street, and heading back in the direction of his apartment, David paused momentarily as he felt a shiver run down his spine. He wasn't exactly certain, but it felt as though someone was watching him. Something that shouldn't have been possible given the fact that time was stopped. The only other people who could be aware of his presence in a state like this were time manipulators like himself. But as far as he knew there weren't any others in this part of the city, which made the ever growing feeling of paranoia he was suddenly beset with even more unnerving. Quickly glancing at the surrounding area, David looked for anything out of the ordinary and, after a few minutes of searching, saw the dark outline of a figure wearing some kind of long, dark, coat leaning against the wall of a nail salon off to the right of the burning department store. And while he couldn't tell for sure, it seemed as though it was staring directly at him, almost as though it was committing his every move to memory for future use.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, David turned round to face it fully and took a few steps in its direction when the figure suddenly vanished into thin air. Blinking a couple of times, his mouth agape slightly, David stared at the area in which the figure had been standing a few seconds earlier, completely dumbfounded. It shouldn't have been possible for that person, whoever they were, to have done that without the ability to manipulate time. Yet they did. Which meant that there was at least one time controller in the city whose presence he had been completely oblivious to. And that wasn't even the most troubling part. The most troubling part was that this person's motives, desires, and reasoning was completely unknown to him. They could be anything from a self proclaimed hero to a ruthless and bloodthirsty villain with any number of contacts and connections both inside and outside of the city.

In other words, they were a complete wildcard. And one with what seemed to be a very keen interest in him at that.

Letting out a low growl through clenched teeth and thinly pressed lips, David once again turned away from the scene of the devastation and continued on his way home, his mind reeling as it tried to figure out this newcomer to the vigilante game. Picking up his pace to a slight jog, David released his hold on time once he was a few blocks away from the store, allowing it to flow freely once again as he stalked off down the street.

[Assistant] After the initial crash of the building collapsing behind her, Erika was expecting more crashes to follow, but they were staved off by the arrival of another vigilante. Eyes widening at Grim's display, she couldn't help but whisper, "Cool!" under her breath before diverting her attention elsewhere. With all the civilians evacuated from the building there wasn't much more that her power would be helpful for regarding the fire, so she decided to make herself useful assisting the authorities in keeping the civilians at bay so that when the building does inevitably collapse they won't accidentally be harmed by the resulting debris. She did make sure to keep her fangirling in her own mind after spotting Professor Devil talking to another woman out of the corner of her eye as well as focussing on the job at hand though.


[System]
Gender: M
Age: 27
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Rank: Cause
Objective for the Grail: Hemlock is too prideful of his family's art to throw it all away and reach the root using some cup, so he intends to wish for a solution to the annoying roadblocks that stop them from reaching that level on their own terms.
Command Seal: A paintbrush with a splatter of paint. The splatter will disappear first, then the head, and finally the shaft.

Personality: Hemlock gives off the impression that he would probably still be totally committed to painting even if it had absolutely nothing to do with his magecraft. Since first-hand observation is the best for painting, he doesn't mind venturing out of his workshop at all. Indeed, he generally lacks pride and has no problem stooping down into the dirt or grovelling. The only exception is his painting. The mention of art completely washes away the detached and calm persona, giving way to the emotions he bottles up inside. A conversation with a lover of art can turn him into a charming guy with a bright smile, but someone who insults his work will suddenly be face-to-face with a violent and vindictive artist.

Bio: The Reguim family is based in the English countryside, within arm's reach of the Clock Tower. They've always been open to co-operation with the Association, but there was little reason to, especially as they began to stagnate a bit. The goal of their art is to "paint the root" and the use that painting as a means to reach it. Hemlock spent lots of his childhood outside and often travelled to different exotic places in order to paint them. His family was fairly mellow since they spent all their time painting, so he was allowed to make non-mage friends and hang out with them in his spare time. Even so, Hemlock could tell that his relatives had started to despair about ever advancing their craft, and as a skilled young heir, the pressure was on him. Leaving behind his social life was his own choice, rather than something forced on him, but in the end, he became just another anti-social mage looking for easy solutions to fulfill ancient pride.

---

Magic Circuit Switch: Imagining a black canvas.

Number of Magic Circuits: B

Quality of Magic Circuits: B

---

Elemental Affinity: Earth and Water

Magecraft: In addition to basic magecraft, Hemlock is highly proficient with his family's traditional style, which uses paintings. The focuses of this are essentially "bounded fields" and "curses" that make use of paintings to boost their effectiveness. A painting can be used as the centrepiece of a boundary, tuning its purpose to a function related to the painting. A painting of a sturdy house or castle would make for a protective field, and so on. In regards to curses, it's a matter of painting a representation of a target, and then making alterations to the painting to mirror the effects onto a target, similar to a "voodoo doll". In both cases, a painting made from immediate observation instead of imagination or memory will be more effective, and one that contains materials from the subject will be even moreso.

Crest: 6 Generations

Weapons:

 Vibrant Arsenal: An artist's palette, to which normal paints can be applied at will. The paint becomes filled with mana and fails to be removed by the standard jostling one experiences during battle. In order to apply it, the specialized brush must be flicked against a dollop of paint, causing the liquid to fly off in a blade-like arc. These are physical attacks that deal damage on contact, with the type of damage corresponding to the colour used as one would expect.

 Paintings: Stacks of Hemlock's past work, useable with his magecraft. Various pieces such as forests, dark alleys, castles, violent brawls, and stormy seas are present here.

 Portable Speed-Painting Kit: A small case that unfolds into a stool, canvas, and everything else Hemlock would need in order to sit down and do some painting in dangerous situations.

[User]
---

Latin District, Hotel Workshop

---

The form that emerged from the circle was not quite exactly what it appeared to be- namely, it was not the form of a man. The royal musketeers uniform hid what little chest she had and her hips were, as described by her mother, unfortunately narrow. Her face was one that was pretty in a way that was timeless but not distinctly male or female, but the fiery glint of determination in her eye spoke to the sensibilities that were far more often the former than the latter.

Of course given these facts no one could possibly be blamed for thinking the figure of Saber was male, least of all Saber herself- who would not correct anyone who made that mistake. If anything, this was always the intention of the fourth musketeer, as no sooner than the flash had faded than she had moved to cement this misconception.

She cut a deep bow and doffed her hat before speaking, in a voice no more conclusive than her body, "So, which one of you lovely ladies is my master?"... It was like she didn't even notice Theta.

She stepped forward before waiting for a reply, reaching out for the girls, "Is it you? Or you? You maybe? You?" Rapid fire, one after another, pressing her lips to the back of their hands, offered or not, with face becoming less noble and more transparently lecherous by the syllable. "Oh God you've been too good to me, I can't even choose, you're all so lovely!" ... D'Art, it isn't your choice to begin with.

As the excitement mounted she collapsed to her knees, head tilted back towards the sky as an even greater possibility dawned on her and she extolled her joys. "Don't tell me it's all of you!? Did I die and go to heaven!?" Her expression sobered suddenly, and her finger went to her chin. " ...Well I did die, but..."

She snapped back to mania not a second later, upon noticing Venus' predicament. " Oh dear, you're bleeding! My darling please, don't use your own kerchief, take mine instead- Oh but it would be rude to give one of you a gift and not the rest or you'll think I'm playing favorites... Oh this is a fine predicament you've gotten yourself into d'Artagnan!"

Just like that, without a second's hesitation, she blurted her true name out. Things were off to a wonderful start.

---

[Assistant]
---

Hector of Troy
Studio Appartement, Core District

---

Hmmm? What was that now? Its calling upon me of all people? Ah that's just my luck eh. He had thought perhaps war and conflict would have left him alone after all that he had done in life. Well he didn't really think that, that was more of this old man's hopeful wishes. Ah jeez. Well if someone was calling on him it couldn't be helped then. As long as he wasn't there everything should be fine anyway.
And so his body once more began to take form, back to the world of humans where he had fought so valiantly for his people, for his father, for his brother. Once more to battle, this time for his master. Hang on... Maybe I should fight for myself once in a while... That notion came to mind as he found himself looking at a strange room of fog. Well, a room of fog until it was all blasted away, probably from the completion of the summoning. Now the full body of the Servant Hector stood clearly in the middle of the summoning circle, well next to the block of wood at least. He noticed the man outside of the circle and gave him a slight nod of the head as he knelt down, picking it up before knocking on it with its other hand. "Knock on wood, eh?" he said to the as of now unknown man with a slightly stupid grin on his face. Well the man wasn't entirely unknown...

"I assume you are the one who summoned this old man then son?" he asked this rhetorical question as he eyed him up. The man who summoned him looked fairly well built, strange choice of clothing but hey maybe his master was thinking the same thing about him. Casually dropping the piece of wood that had acted as his catalyst back down onto the floor he rather oddly shuffled his way out of the summoning circle. "So... What's the plan son?

---

Lucienne
Discreet Workshop, Residential District

---

Letting out a long sigh Lucienne slipped on her jacked. It may have been a more peaceful day than she was used to but it was just as busy and stressful as any other. Well, perhaps even more since she was preparing to set foot in the Grail War. Why on earth didn't I come to Paris sooner for this. Idiot. She scolded herself as she made her way over to the wall. Bringing a notebook that had been resting on a nearby desk with her. She had written down the numbers to people who were connected to her family and could be trusted to help her out during the war. But even so it was a pain to use the telephone. It felt like hours until she was able to reach someone the first time she tried to use one and she still struggles with the stupid brick to this day. Grinding her teeth she rather aggressively punches in the numbers.

"Ohoho, is that Monsieur Bogdanoff?" The man on the other side of the phone would have surely been quite surprised to see the sudden change of mood in this caller. "Ah yes... Well... I was just wondering if you could keep tabs on this little 'hideout' that you so kindly arranged for me during my stay here." The man responds with his usual booming laugh and a "I will see what I can do madame." "Aha merci, merci beaucoup for everything Monsieur, have a wonderful day!" He must think I am paranoid or something. Oh well.. She thought as she left the room and began to climb a set of stairs up to the second floor. "Caster!!! How is everything going on up there! Are you ready to head out! Paris is a beautiful place we should use some of our time to experience it a bit! She yelled up at the servant that she had summoned. Honestly she was expecting a handsome knight in shining armor but she was not displeased with who it was that had answered her call. A beautiful young woman. N-now Lucienne was a beautiful young woman in her own right and had no reason to be jealous at all... Thoughts like these trailed through her slightly self conscious mind as she awaited for her servants response.

[User]
---

Discreet Workshop, Residential District
To walk once more amongst parisians, da Vinci takes to the stage!

---

Stretching as she finished getting changed. da Vinci patted down her clothing, She had thought it best in her preparations that she wore less 'flamboyant' clothing, the bright colours of her regular attire would certainly stick out like a sour thumb on the night streets. Still, even her drab clothing had that manner of class befitting the renowned inventor. She certainly looked like an aristocratic member of french society. That is after all what she intended.

Ah, and just in time too, her master calling for her certainly would expedite her progress as she donned the hat on-top of her flawless strands of brown hair. Ah yes. She was most certainly ready to begin scouting paris at her masters side. A flawless smile encroached on her face as she turned around opening the door to greet her master. "I believe I am now ready master." da Vinci said, standing with a hand on hip, beaming that smile of confidence and reassurance she had seemingly mastered. "Shall we begin?" Her words were simple, fair and eloquent in tone. Such was the benefits of redesigning ones own body to be perfect.

She was quite lucky to have earned such a reasonable master, She would of been beside herself if she had been forced to work with one of the more 'distasteful' fellows. She hoped that tonight would be profitable for the both of them. It would be a disservice to her character if she failed to protect the only person that mattered to her currently as a servant. da Vinci was not the type to accept failure. No no~

[Assistant]
Apartment Workshop, Core District

---

"Knock on..? Aren't you supposed to say that after someone jinxes something?"

Hemlock felt the hero's presence even before he laid eyes on him. The fog, a byproduct of bringing a warrior from hundreds of years in the past to his apartment, began to settle. Thus, the two could see each other. Amidst the scene, something came to the painter's mind. He spoke restlessly, "Hemlock Reguim, magus of the modern day. Now, just a moment..."

He quickly moved to a window and threw it open, noticing as he did the red markings on the back of his hand. "This fog is probably wreaking hell on my canvases." The vapour began to waft out into the night air, and Hemlock turned back to the spirit he had conjured, who became more and more visible as the last wisps of mist dispersed. "I hope you'll forgive me, but I simply couldn't let my works sit in this moisture for too long. I'm not entirely sure if that was actually water vapour, but I hate to take chances where paintings are involved."

After a few moments, Hemlock closed the window again. He was slightly thrown off by the spirit's attitude, but he supposed it was fine for someone to be that easygoing when they were capable of annihilating most opposition with their bare hands. "As you can probably tell, I'm the mage who summoned you, which makes me your Master. If you find the terms 'Servant' and 'Master' demeaning then you're free to come up with something better. He extended a hand, to seal their bond. Hemlock's new status as a Master gave him insight into the man's capabilities. Strong, bright, vibrant colours in all areas, especially swiftness. If his Servant was so quick, perhaps he had struck fortune beyond fortune and summoned the greatest hero of that war? No, he hadn't survived to an age where he might call himself an 'old man'. "Of course, I must arrange a plan for this war. First, please tell me your class and true name so that I understand what you can do. However, my basic goal won't change based on your abilities: to grasp Paris and the Grail within these eight days, we'll have to eliminate each of our opponents, starting tonight."


[System]
Personal Quote: Sometimes, I think I'm the only thing keeping this town form going to total shit.
Gender: Male

Race: Mixed Caucasian/Hispanic

Nationality: American

Age: 31

Occupation: Town Sherriff

Family: Richard Reilly (Father, Deceased), Luisa Espinoza Valdez (Mother, Deceased), James Reilly (Brother, lives in California)

Horse: Sultan

Possessions: Josh generally wears comfortable clothes in the summer and sports a long duster for the winter months. He wears a Schofield in a holster on his waist and carries a double barrel shotgun when he's patrolling the town. One of the local bar flies nicknamed Josh's shogun "Knock Knock" and the name sort of stuck.

If he ever feels the need for an extra bit of range, Josh has a Spencer rifle in his lock up at the sheriff's office. Never far behind Josh is his dog, Deputy He is well trained and a loyal friend to his master.

Skills: Josh is a good shot and a fair rider, but most of his time spent as a sheriff is talking to people. He believes that talking someone into giving up is better than wasting a bullet on them.

Personality: Josh is friendly and affable with the folks in town, but he finds the job of policing quite exhausting. Still, it's his job and he gets paid for it, so he does the best he can. He's been thinking about hiring a deputy (a human one) for quite some time, but the right person hasn't come along yet.

Likes/Dislikes: Josh likes peace and quiet, as it means his job is very easy. If it's not, the Josh likes to get the job done in a way that leaves the most people satisfied, as that generally keeps the peace better. When he's not working, he finds joy in enjoying food and drink at Roy's Saloon.

Josh doesn't speak much about his past, but he has mentioned that he's had a few odd jobs before becoming sheriff. He's been a gunhand, a bounty hunter and a driver for Wells Fargo before arriving in Longwater. Once he arrived, he decided that this was a good town to make a living in, and he's stayed ever since.

[User]
"Have a good day father." Achille stated as he bowed his head to Father Stone respectfully. So far so good... he earned the trust of the local clergy which would likely prove valuable down the line. With his read on the town somewhat complete, The bounty hunter took a gaze towards the sheriff's office, intending on making good of his word to see the man in charge only to notice that the drunk Irish soldier from earlier had already made his way over. How unfortunate... it would be difficult to approach the sheriff and get a proper read on things if the irish drunk was there also to potentially distract him. Yet as Achille took a moment to analyze the town and reflect on Colm's words, Achille figured that Colm was more than just his first impression. Likely a former soldier, Achille privately guessed, judging from the rival... perhaps he did have his uses.

It was here that Achille then noticed the pair of individuals who emerged from the saloon to listen in on the previous conversation. Judging from their appearances they were both relatively young looking but both distinct in presences. The man had a certain relaxed aura around him though his words gave off the impression that despite his age, he was at least knowledgeable on criminalistics activities. The female however had a different presence. There was something off about her, something... supernaturally familiar and the way she clung on to the man's side...

Achille's eyes narrowed, his face hardening behind his bandana. "There is another?" He privately thought. It seems there was yet another complication. The matter would have to be addressed another time however, especially since they were in daylight. The bounty hunter took a step towards Jack and Kira, his face all covered except for a pair of dark and intense eyes. "Do you speak from experience?" Achille questioned aloud, focusing on Jack.

"In these... peculiar times it seems we could all use a friend." Achille said, his head gesturing subtly in Kira's direction. "Now it seems like you have one but perhaps you can be generous and possibly tell this wandering gunslinger on what you know about this town they call Longwater."

[Assistant]
Location: Just Outside Saloon | Interaction: @Silentfeather@DragonofTheWest

 Jack responded to Kira's request for companionship with a subtle upward nod, beckoning her forward. As she caught up with him just outside, she inquired about the identity of the grave tamperer.

 "Couldn't tell ya," he admitted, his words sounding out in an exhale of smoke. "I haven't been here for too long. Only got a general feel for the place and the folks in it. Seems like the flavor of degenerate that would mess with a grave would be akin to either a batshit crazy loon, some down-on-his luck loser looking for a score, or... I dunno... Maybe something else." The sort of notion certainly forced Jack to look at the people around him with a little more scrutiny. At best, there was some low talent thieving bottom feeder among them. He'd have to keep a close eye on his billfold and always keep his back toward a corner. At worst, there was an unpredictable deviant in town, in which case Jack need only to keep his gun loaded and his hand near the holster. His curiosity was laced with excitement. Alas, he tried to maintain his poker face.

 "I could do well with some company," Jack stated, allowing his eyes to lock onto Kira's for but a moment. She was attractive, bold and direct. In Jack's circles, someone like that could prove very useful. Business aside, she was certainly an upgrade from the last woman he spent any time with. This could be fun.

 "Do you speak from experience?" The peculiar man's voice seized Jack's attention as he approached, no doubt overhearing his hypothesis on the crime.

 "Not directly," he said back casually. "But what else would any sane individual get outta foolin' with dead bodies?" The odd man's attention then moved onto his newly acquired companion before offering her a question as well. His eyes continued to scan this masked enigma. He simply couldn't decide how to read him. He was requesting friendship, but also information, all while armed and anonymous. Jack couldn't shake the eerie vibe he was getting, but decided to mute his concern for now.

[User]
(Addressing: @DragonofTheWest @RedXIII @Silentfeather)

Christina stayed in the graveyard sometime after others had left. Seeing that even the Sheriff has no idea what happened here and why was just too much for her to handle. If the authorities could not even fathom such a crime, how were they going to solve it?

Old bones. Christina was furious when she remembered his words. Her mother was no 'old bones'. She was a healer who has done a lot of good for the town and her body didn't deserve to be disgraced in this way. Young girl forbade herself from imagining what someone would possibly do with so many corpses, but thoughts of old stories still kept creeping into her mind. Graverobbers would take valuables but would have no use for bodies. There were other tales about beings not quite from this world - folks around the campfires whispered about ghouls, walking dead, or strange winged creatures, the natives passed stories about the mysterious Wendigo, but Christina had always dismissed them as fantasies without any real base.

She couldn't stay on the defiled graveyard any longer, so she jumped on Betsie and rode back to town, heading straight for the Lone Heart. As she was tying her horse outside, her gaze fell on some strange people talking on the front porch. Newcomers weren't any rare sight in Longwater, for most the town was just an overnight stop on their way from east to west (or vice versa), but in the current situation, people were looking at strangers more carefully. Could any of these strange figures be the wanted culprit?

The door swung smoothly as she entered the saloon. She was not a frequent visitor there, in fact, this was the first time she came in as a customer. Climbing on one of the barstools, she nodded at the bartender. "Pour me a glass."

He looked at her with doubt. "Hun' are you sure? You should go home."

Of course, he knew her, probably ever since she was a baby. "Give me a glass of something or I'll tell everyone why do you keep scratching your crotch," she hissed at him quietly and he obliged. Being a healer meant she had to keep a lot of secrets, but this was the first time she used them against anyone. She was definitely not her usual cheery and positive self. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as he handed her the drink. The barman just tapped her shoulder and moved to serve other patrons.

The liquid in the glass looked like water, but sure as hell didn't smell like it. Christina drank it all at once, trying not to cough as it burned its way through her throat and stomach, forcing tears into her eyes. Dead God, why the hell does anyone drink this? A few coins landed on the counter and she left the saloon, deciding that drinking is not an acceptable way to forget about her troubles. She leaned against the railing outside, waiting for her stomach to calm.

"What do you think there is to know about the town?" she asked a tall stranger. All covered in black, the only visible part of his body were his eyes - definitely a suspicious fellow. "It's a normal town like any other. People live their normal lives here, working hard to provide for their families. A lot of strangers pass through, but until now we haven't had any bigger troubles than a few drunken fights and one or two armed robberies. Sure, drunken folks tell strange stories, but who would listen to them?" she shrugged.

"If you are looking for friends though, you might have a hard time. People here don't trust strangers easily." She curiously looked at the other two fellows, a handsome guy and an enchantingly beautiful lady in a gorgeous dress.

[Assistant]
Colm had stepped into the Sheriff's office. Ah, good. He's in. He listened carefully to the mans' statement, and straightened himself up, as if he was standing in formation. Some things never leave ya, do they, boyo? "Private Colm MacPherson, formerly of the 88th New York Regiment of The Irish Brigade; also-" He hesitated. He felt himself about to choke on his words, and decided against mentioning having anything to do with General Sherman. "Also, a brief stint on the frontier, sir." There, not really a lie, than, is it? "Newly arrived, newly retired, and eager to offer my services in light of the current crisis, sir!"

 He paused, and looked confused as he realized he was saluting, as if he really was speaking to an officer of the army... He forced himself to put his arm down. "If'n y'll accept me help, sir- Sheriff, sir..." He squeezed his eyes shut tight with frustration- Jaysus, Mary 'n Joseph, at least oi've got a couple a good drinks in me, lest the man see me with the shakes...

[User]
Kira smiled wide once again as she was accepted by sexy, handsome Jack, joining him in the searching for any clues in the strange grave robber. She could sense many saddened humans nearby but she knew that it was because of the snatching of the bodies of their loved ones. She searched graves, trying her very hardest to not move anything to disturb the resting place of the such hollow vessels that were grabbed.

She looked at Christina, the woman who was leaning against the railing, emmotionally sensing her sadness. She may have been able to do that since she was born but she kept that secret to herself. "Jack and me here are friends, what brings you to the saloon? young one?" She asked, not wanting to be too into the mysterious woman's business but just making small talk. "Even here you can find friends, you just have to find where to look and be patient." She smiled once more, trying to cheer up the depressed woman who seemed down in the dumps.

She sighed as her search came up empty like the holes in the graveyard, arising to her heels, dusting her dress off. She walked over to Jack, asking him the same question she had in her own head. "Find anything yet .. hmm .. this is strange?" She adjusted the bright red rose in her hair, the sun making her skin glow like a thousand crystal diamonds. Her bright blue eyes becoming of a bright blue that shined beneath it's rays. Being a vampire had it's perks, perks like being enchantingly beautiful through the ages and never aging a single day.

She wanted nothing more than to solve the grave robberies and put this whole thing to a permanent rest once and for all.

[Assistant]
"Private?" Josh said, crossing his arms. Colm looked a little old to be a private, but if he managed to make it all the way to retirement, then he was likely a very good soldier. Still, he looked a little shaky.

"Look, friend. I'm sure you're very qualified, but this looks like simple grave-robbery. In spite of the odd circumstances, anyway. If it gets worse, I'll be sure to-" said Josh before he was cut off by a scream. Then another. Then a dozen more.

The Sheriff instinctually reached for his shotgun and made sure it was loaded before running outside past Colm. "We will discuss this later!" he yelled back to the old soldier.
------

Standing tall at the far end of town, past the saloons and underneath the shadow of a massive water tower, were a horde of the dead. Still dressed in their Sunday best, they unmoving throng were still familiar to those residents of Longwater who remembered them. At their head, pacing back and forth, was a tall man in a long black duster. On his hip sat an old Colt that still looked dangerous in spite of it's rust.

When Josh pushed his way pass the onlookers, he leveled his shotgun at the man and the mass of corpses behind him. The Sheriff tried to call out, demand an explanation, but found his throat to be completely dry. All he could do was stare in horror at the impossible sight laid out before him.